First though, I wanted to give an update on the starved foal who was rescued by BHFHR on Saturday eve. Here are a few photos. He has a bad coat, is very skinny, his hocks are swollen, he has horrible rain rot and his belly wormy. But, they are working around the clock to help him. I’ll keep you posted. To keep up to date or help, go to the website.
HEART IN THROAT
I had a few guys helping unload a large flatbed of hay. The truck was backed up almost to the hay barn. As usual, the guys have a system for unloading hay. First they create a hay bale bridge from the truck to the hay barn. Then, they stack the hay into the barn kinda like Leggos. You see a stair-step pattern off of the truck and a stair-step pattern into the barn.
Well, on that day last Summer, it was too hot to continue so the boys came in for a cool drink. I knew my Icy and my TWH filly were roaming loose. But, I didn’t worry because they were grazing far away on fresh, green grass. Famous last words…
As I walked outside to see the progress on the stacks, I noticed the Icy IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK on the bale Leggo structure. She was totally on the top of the pile, teetering. I froze. Where was the other one?! I told myself to breathe deeply and stay calm. OK, where is the other one????
I see her, on top of the Leggo mountain in the hay barn. She was 20 feet up inside the barn. They must have gotten onto the hay bridge, I’m sure egging each other onward, and then each picked a different direction. So here I had my Icy teetering in the back of the flatbed and my TWH filly standing on loose bales near the roof of the hay barn. If either of them got scared, broken legs were sure to follow.
So, I gently approached, cooing as best I could. “Awww, aren’t you smarty girls, getting into the hay… Are you having fun? Wanna come down? I have some treats… Be careful now, no rush…” My heart was in my throat.
You see, they didn’t know they were in a pickle. So, both of them just bounced down and out, as if they weren’t 20 feet in the air, surrounded by holes and loose hay. Unbelievable.
Above is a pic of my TWH filly. Can’t you just hear her, “What??!”
This is why I never use plastic buckets/bowls to feed anymore. One night, I heard a horrible banging down at the barn. Boooom bangity bang! Bang booomer bang!
I was trying to stay asleep but no, it was really violent and I figured someone was trying to get my attention.
I put on my robe and boots (a good look for me) and went to the barn. There, looking really sheepish, was one of my Morgan mares. “Uh, I don’t really know how this happened, but could you please remove this bucket from my ankle?” The plastic was ripped and sharp, right around her arteries. I told myself that she had probably been that way for hours and I needed to calm down. Luckily, she held her foot up and waited patiently for me to fix it. (Pictured is Gwen, my bucket girl.)
Once, when I had my horses boarded, Damien decided to maneuver the fence to get to the much better grass on the other side. Unfortunately, he got caught up in the wire and ended up on his back in a ditch, stuck, with one foot attached to the fence. Like the smart boy I didn’t know he was, he just laid there for hours. I found out from a neighbor that when the boarding facility found him, he just nickered, let them pour water in his upside-down mouth and waited for them to release him. Atta boy!
STORIES FROM OTHERS! I found these on the internet and thought I’d share…
Every Sunday, I ride for 3 and a half hours. In Central New Brunswick on the best horses you could ever wish for. No kidding its true, but there is one in particular that I love the most. His name is Ebony Frostbite. Frosty (as we call him) is a registered Quarter Pony with the attitude of a 15 hand Arabian stallion, but yet… he has one weakness. BUGS! He gets an allergic reaction to bug bites and they puff up and are super irritating. To him it is the most annoying thing in the world. He kicks, bites, itches and rolls. Anything to itch those bites. These horses have run-out pastures. They can go outside at will whenever they like. Frosty realized this and also realized the bugs could also go in and out at will so he decided… “Why don’t I CLOSE the door” so he slams the door in everybody’s face and then backs up and puts his rump against it so it stays permanently closed. The woman who owns Frosty went outside so she could drop his hay by his usual feeding spot. She had opened his door, and when she came to close the door Frosty gave her a look of deepest disgust and smashed the door in her face. She told me it really meant, “Haven;t I told you a MILLION times to close the door when you leave??? The bugs will get in!!!” So in courtesy for Frosty everytime we open his closed door we close it when we’re done. We don’t want to be told off by a stubborn pony again. – Victoria Blair
FABRIC SOFTENER HEADRUSH
I’ve seen horses do alot of things, but a friend’s mare is one of the strangest. My friend would let her mare graze in the yard, when Shelby (the mare) would hear the clothes dryer come on, she would scurry to the dryer vent and inhale the hot air … we never could figure out if she liked the smell … ie Bounce Dryer Sheets, mountain fresh scent… or the hot air… (the air was already hot.. it was 95 degrees) .. or if she just was a silly mare. As long as the dryer was running, you knew exactly where to find her. – Karen Sue Taylor
HORSEY SENSE OF HUMOR
We had 3 horses at home in 1999 and one of them was a 2 year old Thoroughbred we called Lil buddy. His registered name was The Charminator because he charmed everyone he met. One afternoon my husband and I went to groom and ride our horses. We were grooming in the run in shed, my husband and his horse on the outside of the gate and me on the inside with my horse….and Lil Buddy. Lil Buddy was nuzzling my tshirt while I was grooming my horse and rubbing my back. I bent over to clean my horses hooves and Lil Buddy kept rubbing my back, pushed through my waistband and pulled up my underwear GIVING ME A WEDGIE! We laughed so hard I almost fell down until I looked at all 3 horses faces and they were all grinning! I never saw a horse actually grin before that day. -Bonnie Gerdes
WON’T CROSS WATER BUT WILL SWIM FOR CHICKS
My horse is possibly the Harry Houidini of the horse world .One day as I was cleaning stalls I went outside to dump my wheelbarrow full of you know what and I saw him he was swimming across the lake that partly encloses his pasture. To understand why he did this you have to understand two things: one, across from his pasture was where we kept my two mares and two, he is a pride cut gelding who thinks he is a stud.Woopsy. As he proceeded to get out of the water and shake off I stood like an idiot with my mouth open I mean this is my gelding that barely crosses creeks much less swims lakes suprise suprise. Then as I was standing there he ran up to the mares and started chasing the mares from one end of the pasture to the pasture to the other. I quickly regained my senses and caught him but to this day I can’t put him in the pasture, nor will he cross a creek. -kamie harrell
WHAT DID HE DO, NOW??
We own Peck’s Bad Horse. Chaos is his middle name. “Rat ‘Chaos’ Friedman”. I’ve been in my truck driving to the barn and met him coming down the road in the opposite direction. He’s spent days removing all of the bolts from the gutter on the shedrow barn at one farm. I’ve gotten daily calls from one farm manager that always started with, “You have GOT to get over here and see what your horse is doing!” He’s taken apart a western saddle and buried the pieces in the sand footing of the arena before he was caught. He’s found a whip and gotten the rest of the horses running in circles until they were exhausted. He’s spent an hour or so working his way into the middle of a coil of rusty barbed wire and backing out again, over and over and over . . .
Most recently he developed a grudge against a horse in the neighboring paddock. During the night (his most creative time) he took down the fence between them, crossed it, beat the bejeezus out of his erstwhile enemy, then quietly crossed back into his own paddock, where he was found grazing peacefully the next morning. All in a night’s work for our boy.
I’ve got a rider on my insurance policy that names him specifically with a disclaimer for whatever he might do that we haven’t thought of a way to prevent.
I could go on, but I get nervous when I think for too long about what he might be doing while I’m typing. I’ve just started sleeping through the night again since my daughter moved him a state away. Most folks dread the midnight phone call because they fear for the health of elderly relatives and errant children. I jump out of bed and start pulling my boots on before I’ve got the phone off the cradle because I know I’m going to hear, “Wait’ll you see what he’s done this time!”
And he’s only one of seven. Is it any wonder I tend to hunker in the corner humming show tunes and making farm animals out of duct tape and baling twine?
Joanne M. Friedman
THOSE are a few horse stories to enjoy! Do you have any?