SICK
Well, I've been sick, so there hasn't been much horseplay lately. I was out last Friday (the 19th) and shoveled two stalls (that was all that was dirty). Ample horse time.

Procured Cheerios from the pasture. He develops horrendous dreadlocks in his mane, so I treated him to a thorough grooming (which he appreciated). Thanks to ShowSheen, scissors and patience, I was able to undo his Bob Marley look with a minimum of mane loss. I did my best to avoid whacking big chunks from his mane; instead, I employed the technique I've seen my hairstylist use—sort of razor with the scissors a few hairs at a time randomly to loosen the dread and use my fingers to pry it apart. I can't tell. It looks like he got a bit of a "style" (the layered look) but it looks natural.

Then we played in the round pen for a bit. He's finally getting sideways. Or rather, I'm finally figuring out how to explain it to him. ;-)



But I wasn't feeling very well at the end of the day. The manure pile is being burned; though I wear a bandanna over my face when I go near the pile, I must've inhaled some of the smoke because I have developed a wicked cough. It started that Friday as a ragged cough with a scratchy throat. Two days of throat, then that receded and it progressed into different symptoms one right after the other: throat to runny nose to cough to sneezing to very bad cough.

I took Monday "off" from barn duty. Tuesday I shoveled but my energy was really low and I had trouble catching my breath. Thursday was the worst—I felt like I had bronchitis. The day before, I'd traveled to southern Ohio and back to attend the closing on the first lot sale and to bid farewell to my Grandma's house (also a dust monster). So Thursday, I pretty much lazed around, doped up on Sudafed and cough meds. Friday I was better. Today, better. But still not feeling up to barn duty.

The cough sounds like nothing I've ever produced before—and I'm a lifelong bronchitis sufferer. This sounds REALLY bad. So, I'll take it easy for a couple more days and see if it clears up on its own. I don't feel "sick", so...

I did get to play with Shaveya Tuesday. I just didn't have the energy for Cheerios but I wanted to play, and with Shaveya she needs calm and low key. Catching game, ran through the games. It went well. She's a very smart horse. Just very scared.

Hungry now... more later.

CATATONIC
Awhile back, I snagged the Parelli Liberty & Horse Behavior Course-In-A-Box as solace for missing the Six-Week Intensive I was supposed to participate in during the Spring of 2006. (I'd had to cancel due to Dad's fall and being needed at home.)



The blurb from the website describes it better than I ever could:

This high powered course was based on an effective program taught at the Parelli Centers. It was produced for home study due to the overwhelming response. Liberty & Horse Behavior teaches you one of the greatest skills a horseman can have, "being able to read horses." This course delves deep into the equine mind and teaches people to understand how to interact more effectively thus gaining greater perceptions around how and why communication via the Seven Games works. This course teaches the skills of Liberty through excellent On Line preparation leading to very high levels of execution.

Since Life settled down a bit, I resumed my studies during the winter months. I watched L&HB almost all the way through. There are 10 DVDs: six of them are the L&HB coursework; the other four include problem solving and expanding the Seven Games. (There is a really detailed outline HERE.)

For those who've picked up the Success Series DVD on "Horseanality", the L&HB Course goes FAR MORE DEEPLY into the concept. In brief, there are four distinct Horseanalities. Horses can have a mixture of horseanality traits but most tend to lean towards one of the quadrants. They are:

• LBE (Left-Brain Extrovert)


• LBI (Left-Brain Introvert)


• RBE (Right-Brain Extrovert)


• RBI (Right-Brain Extrovert)

How one handles each of these horseanalities is the subject of the course. Horses can move very quickly from Left-Brained (confident, dominant, playful, exuberant) to Right-Brained (unconfident, submissive, shy, quiet) and from Extroverted to Introverted. Flexibility is the key, as is understanding how to read what shows up at any given moment. The process can be subtle shifts or it can swing wide across the extremes, depending on the horse.

Some horses can become unconfident when they are learning new things. Depending on the horse, he might be OK with a lot of variety (Extroverts) or he might prefer consistency (Introverts). If you use the wrong approach, you can unwittingly send your horse into an unconfident state pretty easily. Their response to this can range from becoming fractious ("misbehaving") to shutting down.

The extreme manifestation of unconfident and introverted is when a horse goes catatonic. He completely shuts down and, as Linda Parelli puts it, "goes to his Happy Place". It's often a response to stress. Linda has a horse (Allure) who will go cataonic when he eats a cookie. In one segment, she feeds him a cookie to demonstrate for the students what this state looks like (without having to create a negative situation to put a horse under stress).

It's bizarre.

Head drops. Eyes half-shut. Horse looks like he just smoked a fatty. Totally checks out. Lower lip goes all floppy. Stands perfectly still. Doesn't respond to anything. He's far, far away. I mean, he LOOKS like what you'd think catatonic would look like. Linda just has to wait it out until he decides to return to Planet Earth. It's like sleepwalking—the worst thing you can do is wake them up suddenly—you have to kind of let them be.

I've been out with my horse Cheerios before and I've seen him act "weird". I thought I was boring him because he'd just seem to lose interest and take a nap in the middle of my trying to teach him something. For years, I've thought I had a definite LBE—pushy, friendly, domineering, assertive, exuberant, smart, curious, playful. I thought he was full of confidence, sometimes misbehaved, and treated him as such.

I've been misreading him.

He's half LBE and half LBI. That's right. He switches. He'll be extroverted, then introverted. I've just recently figured out that his "misbehavior" is actually a lack of confidence!

Wednesday I played with him. Because I'm now so goal-oriented (I know, principles before goals) due to the upcoming clinic, I decided to get him "up to speed". Let's see how much we can get through today. Let's try transitions (changing gaits) while Circling, and changing direction, and get that Sideways working, and maybe we can do a bit of Seven Games With An Obstacle. Then I'll ride. Yup. Big day planned, big checklist.

Circling sucked. He snorted off at the slightest suggestion. Became fractious when I asked for transitions or change of direction. Pulled back, tried to pull the rope from my hands. General snottiness. I thought, "OH BOY". Then suddenly, he became very quiet and refused to move. He couldn't look at me at all, and he appeared to be going to sleep. I tried to wake him up. He ignored me. I looked at him a little closer.

That's when it hit me—

OMG. I'VE MADE MY HORSE GO CATATONIC.

I felt SO bad.

I thought, "what does he need right now?" and remembered he needed safety... or maybe comfort, I couldn't remember which. I had a 50-50 chance, so I opted for comfort. What gives a horse comfort?

Retreat.

So I played a little game. I watched him as I retreated. Slowly. First I leaned back slightly. His head moved ever so slightly towards me. I leaned forward. His head moved away from me. It was like his head was attached to my body with an invisible string. I stepped backwards, quietly and so subtly you could barely see it, one step—pause—one step—pause and watched as his head swung back towards facing me with two eyes in the tiniest of increments. With every step, he was looking at me a little more.

But he wasn't SEEING me. His eyes were still Stoner Bud glassy. He was looking at me with his spidey sense but not with his eyes. It was strange.

I backed all the way out to the end of the 22' line before he could give me two very glassy half-shut non-focused eyes.

I waited and watched for a bit. Then I thought, maybe I can unhinge him gently and bring him back. I took a step sideways, planning to make an arc to one side in much the same manner as I'd backed up. I stepped. His head raised slightly. OK, I'm on the right track, because his head is down too low so if it comes up he'll wake up, I think.

I was right. I took just a few sideways step in my arc when his eyes opened a bit as his head raised. He followed. As we walked, he woke up.

Needless to say, I apologized profusely. I changed tactics and became as clear as possible in my communication, and gave him more time to dwell and stopped expecting too much. He improved. We ended on a good note but I didn't ride (he wasn't rideable yet).

All this time, I've been treating him like a LBE horse, and forgetting about the LBI part I wasn't aware of.

No wonder so many people had trouble with him "misbehaving". We need help, that's for sure. I need more arrows in my quiver to deal with his bi-polar LB horseanality.

********

Yesterday, we had 70-degree temps but very strong winds. Tornado watches and thunderstorm warnings. When the horses don't want to go out, it's too windy. So I mucked and that was about it. The horses stayed inside.

But maybe that was a good thing. After Wednesday's venture into the World of Catatonia, maybe not playing was the best thing. Instead, after finishing the barn, I hung out with my horses in their stalls. They are right next to each other and Shaveya's stall is technically in the corner but her gate is adjacent to his. So I stood in the corner with my back to the stalls, Shaveya's head on my right shoulder and Cheerios' head on my left, both of them blissed out as I scratched their cheeks.

I was blissed out, too. Those quiet moments of horsey love are better than anything on this planet.

BORN AGAIN HORSEWOMAN
So much has happened in the past week! My parents' estate is about to close! FINALLY! Two out of the three lots from the subdividing of Grandma's property have sold, meaning there is enough money to satisfy the terms of the Will. Good news all around. I am about to be FREE.

The stall cleaning is going well. My personal best is 8 stalls in one day. But I overdid it. The day after doing 8 stalls, I consolidated my storage units (from one big and one small down to one big) which included moving (by myself) a rolltop desk, a stove, and a small recliner. Something feels funny—as in, very sore and stiff—in my left shoulder. Yesterday I managed 7 stalls and today I am paying for it. *sigh* Please pass the Tylenol™.

The most exciting news of all: I'M GOING TO A PNH CLINIC IN MAY!!!

I'm SO excited.



The past two and a half years have been tough. Caring for my parents, putting all my horsemanship goals on the backburner, losing my parents, then the year of fog that followed... I've just begun to emerge into life again. But the months since my parents died have been like my "mountaintop". I always wanted to escape to a cabin in the woods on top of a mountain for months in isolation so I could just think, away from the maddening crowds, away from external influences, and really get in touch with ME and with what I want for ME. Living alone in this quiet suburban neighborhood has been that mountaintop. Seriously. I can go days without the phone ringing. It's quiet.

In that time, I've been able to re-examine my goals. I discovered the Law of Attraction and have been studying it seriously since May 2007. All of this has come together to allow my limiting beliefs to surface. I've had a multitude of breakthroughs on a personal level and I understand myself better than I ever did. I am learning to accept myself. I am learning to stand up for my life. I am discovering my principles, my strengths, my talents, my loves, and my own truths. This is the silver lining to the tragedies.

One thing I've realized is that I am not driven by money. My Mother was, but I am not. Our conflicts revolved around my life choices and related to money in many ways. I remember when I was a child, she asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I replied enthusiastically, "I'm going to live on a farm and train horses!"

Mother snorted. "Well, you'd better have a really good job somewhere then, because horses take a lot of money!"

Well, then.

Long story short is that I quickly put two and two together, however illogically, and determined that since we (meaning my parents) couldn't afford to buy me a pony (which was what they always told me), and since Dad had a REALLY good job (we lived in an upper-middle-class suburban neighborhood surrounded by fellow professors), I must need to be a millionaire to afford a horse, so I have to do something that will make me millions. I had a good voice, everyone said I was a talented musician, and since all the people who sang on TV (Hee Haw, Lawrence Welk, etc and yes, I realize I'm dating myself) had fur coats, jewelry, lots of houses and limos, they must be rich, so... I'll just become a famous singing star, make my millions but save it rather than "waste" it on fur coats and limos, then I can retire around the ancient age of 40 (remember, I was about 8 at the time) and live on my horse farm THEN.

So I set out on the path to stardom. In my teen years, I discovered rock bands, and the plan morphed into my becoming a rock star. From the age of 15 until my late 30s, I focused on becoming a rock star. NOT on writing great songs and loving the music, mind you—becoming a rock star. Needless to say, my focus was wrong, and because my counter intentions were that I really didn't want to be a rock star, I just wanted the "easy" millions I could get from exploiting my talent so I could go play with horses, the rock star thing never happened.

Yet, here I am, three months shy of 45, and I'm a retired musician who is "training" horses. Interesting.

(The truth about why we didn't get a horse when I was a kid was because we lived in the suburbs, my Dad was the horse person but he was also the main wage earner and housekeeper and Mother was highly allergic to horses, dust, pollen, and hay—therefore it would have been up to Dad to handle the horse activities such as 4H, shows, lessons, and so on... too much for him to do on top of caring for us. It was just easier for them to relate it to money, though they could not afford it on other levels. Couldn't afford to risk Mother's health, couldn't afford wearing out Dad, and so on. Understandable.)

During my stay on the mountaintop, I've come to realize that music is NOT my first love. Horses are, were and always will be. Horses were the reason for my forays into rock superstardom. All I've ever wanted was to live on a farm and be a cowgirl. Train horses. Have that Black Stallion communication and relationship. Jump onto my spotted horse bareback and bridleless like a wild Indian and gallop off into the sunset.

Well, I can DO that.

PNH makes it possible.

PNH has already allowed me to begin to manifest that relationship with my horses.

PNH teaches people to be Instructors and Horse Developers as a profession.

I'm more interested in doing what I love and allowing it to support me than to chase money and hate the hunt (which is what I was doing before). I've come to the realization that when one pursues their passion, they infuse every action and activity with enthusiasm, love and other positive emotions, which transmits positive energy to the Universe—and that activates positive energy into all aspects of their lives which is WHY people who LOVE what they do tend to have the most MONEY. People who hate their jobs do not tend to make a lot of money and they feel like they are underpaid (because no amount of money is enough to make this job worth it). It's rare that someone who hates their job can actually become wealthy through it.

Well, I LOVE TO PLAY WITH HORSES. I love to ride. I love just BEING with them. When the day ends and I'm at the barn, I hate to leave. I don't want to leave. I don't want the day to end. On days "off", I can't figure out what to do with myself. Oh, there are plenty of chores to do around my house—just no motivation. All I want to do is be at the barn with my horses. With ANY horses.

So, I'm going for it.

Parelli Instructorship, here I come. (Actually I'm more interested in developing horses, but both are fine.)

To get there, I need to:

• Pass L2


• Pass L3


• Get accepted into the program


• Do well in the program and follow the requirements

So we'll start with the first step: Pass L2. That means clinics. That means getting Cheerios up and running. There is an Advancing L1/L2 clinic being held in May, right around the corner from my old barn. There was one spot left.

I got it.

Cheerios is going to his first clinic ever.

I'm going to my first clinic since the L2 in Fall 2004. With a "new" horse. Ironically the instructor of the May clinic was a RIDER in the last L2 clinic I went to. In that short amount of time, he passed L2, L3, and made it as an Instructor.

Here's the fun part.

• May 12, 2001: The day Cheerios ejected me on the trail, which lead to my back injury and the fear issues that lead me to PNH.


• May 12, 2002: The day I ordered my L1 kit.


• May 24, 2002: The day the L1 kit arrived—it was waiting for me when I returned home from my last day on the job, having been laid off at 4:30 PM—precisely the time the L1 kit was being delivered to my doorstep.


• May 9-11, 2008: The dates of the first clinic with CHEERIOS, the horse responsible for launching this journey. Almost to the date.

If you'd have told me it would be SEVEN YEARS before we'd be ready to attend a clinic together, let alone to have gotten this far, I would have given up in disgust and sold my horse.

But here we are. And the dream, once thought lost, has been born again.

Manny, Day One
Today was my first play session with one of the BM's horses. First I cleaned six stalls. Six seems to be my limit so far. By the time I'm halfway done, my back starts aching and my arms refuse to lift one more shovelful. On the upside, it went more quickly this time. I figure by the end of the week I should be able to add a stall or two as my muscles accustom themselves to this job.

When I was done, S asked if I was too tired to play with a horse. I said "No, if I can sit down for a minute first." :-) Took a break. She'd already put a horse in the round pen for me. The briefing was this: he has a lot of energy. He's a thoroughbred. When he's being lunged, she doesn't have to do much but stand there because he shoots off onto the circle and just goes and goes and goes.

OK, he has impulsion.

I went in and just tried to see what I had. Cute horse. Little bay gelding with a white blaze, kind of reminds me of Wildflower. He was very lacking in confidence. It didn't take much to send him circling the pen. She's right. He's the energizer bunny. I watched him for a bit. He was going and going and going. Not even looking to slow down. Very fit, this one.

OK, enough of that. Change direction. Flies off in the other direction. Goes and goes and goes and...

OK. Well then. Let's change directions until you decide to stand still. I think he changed direction about 30 times before he stopped. I relaxed.

He wasn't sure what just happened.

Initiate Catching Game. Got a lot of questions. Made sure to turn off my bullhorn when he looked at me with a question. Still not coming near me, though. Couldn't get near Zone 5 to tag it either. Hmm.

OK. Change tactics. Noticed he flinches every time I raise the carrot stick. What if I dropped the stick?

Aha. Still responsive, still circles, but more inclined to look at me and come into me. Play Catching Game for a bit without the stick. Still not making a change.

OK... will he let me near him? Yes. OK. Good. A bit unconfident, but with approach and retreat, he figures out I'm safe enough and comes to me. Let's introduce the halter and lead rope to sniff. Hmm. Not too sure about that. Give him a few chances to sniff it, approach, retreat—OK it's safe. Halter him. Leads nicely. Interesting. He'll following willingly with a rope on him, but won't follow at liberty. Definite confidence issue.

First things first. Let's get this carrot stick intro out of the way. Very unsure about it. The usual: approach, retreat, when I can finally get it near him without him escaping, rub briefly, stop. Think. Slow, deliberate but not sneaky movements: lift the stick, retreat, come in, retreat, come in... OK now we can rub him all over with it. Still not completely convinced, but he's accepted it enough to where I can begin to teach him it won't hurt him.

Ran through the first five games mostly to see what he knows, how he responds, what bothers him/doesn't bother him. He's responsive—very sensitive—maybe too much. Wanted to escape from steady pressure. Worked on the basic M.O.: stand still until I ask you to move, move when I ask, stop when I ask you to stop, and please do it politely. It was rough around the edges, but I introduced him to the basic concepts of moving off steady pressure in all the major zones, introduced driving, yo-yo and circling.

He has trouble backing up and trouble staying out. He wants to come crowd back in. His bring back is great. (Too great.) He understands the concepts to turn on the FQ and pivot the HQ but only through steady pressure. Driving game makes him want to "go lunging" or go forward. We'll work on that. Probably got some inconsisent signals. If all that's been done is lunge, he might think that everything means go run around the circle.

The interesting thing is that I corrected his explosive send pretty easily. He sent at a polite walk very well. Of course, he's been lunged so he grasps that concept. It's the other stuff he's confused on. But that's OK. I introduced him to the concept of staying out on the circle in gait until I ask—he had the habit of stopping behind me. He made it around one full circle and asked a question and stopped. I took it.

That was pretty much it. Oh, lots of friendly game with the string, and a bit of leading him while flopping the string ahead of me so he begins to understand to read ME, not the stick. I ended by rubbing him well and just standing there. After a bit I leaned over. I would have sat, but I was concerned that in my state of soreness I might not be able to get back up, LOL, so I just leaned over. It was still "down" to the horse. He dropped his head immediately.

Good sign.

He learned fast on the way in to stay behind me, don't overtake me, don't make decisions yet, follow my lead, wait until I invite you to enter your stall, and please disengage your HQ for unhaltering before eating. He did very well there.

After that, I got to go get my poor lonesome Cheerios who was the last one left in the pasture at turn-in. He also behaved admirably on the way in. None of that yanking my arm off to get to the food, which surprised me. Pleasantly. I felt a bit bad, though, because he was watching me the whole time as I played with Manny—like "hey, why aren't you playing with me?" I explained to him that I would—that I hadn't abandoned him, I'm just working off his board and one of my jobs is playing with other horses. Please forgive me—I'll play with you, too.

I love my horses. I LOVE PLAYING WITH HORSES.

S said to me on the way out that I'll have to teach her, too, so she'll know what to do with them. Can I tell you how happy that makes me to hear that? I opened my car door and pulled out two of the Success Series DVDS—Catching and the Games—and handed them to her. Though I still think of them as Parelli Lite, for someone just being introduced to the concepts, it's a good start. Later I'll hit her with the in-depth mind-blowing stuff. Hee hee hee.

Great day.

New Beginnings
The 50-degree play day I anticipated didn't quite pan out. The trim took place—all good news—but the weather wasn't as conducive to play as we'd hoped. It rained. It was warm, but it rained.

Shaveya's feet, wow. I wish I'd had a camera at the time to take photos of her feet before and after. The after is amazing. We started the NHCP journey in the late summer of 2005, and two-and-a-half years later, Shaveya has received a miracle healing. That's all I can call it: a miracle. I was watching over the shoulder of my trimmer and I was astounded. Shaveya's hooves are spreading to a normal, supportive size. They are deeply concaved, have a wonderful solar depth, a healthy frog, and are rock-solid. She no longer limps. When she pivots, she moves like a "normal" horse should move. She canters happily in the pasture.

This is the same horse whose condition a year ago was so bad that it got me chased down by a vicious boarder (at the old barn) who verbally attacked me for "neglecting" my horse then threatened to call the Humane Society and report me for abuse. The same horse that lead the barn manager at that barn to issue an ultimatum: shoe her, move her, or else. I spent a good 18 months defending my horse to that barn, and standing by my principles and philosophies (backed up by a supportive medical and hoof team) because I KNEW Natural Hoof Care and the dietary change would work. Eighteen torturous months being on the receiving end of accusations, threats, and nasty attitudes because I refused to conform and do what others thought was right.

This horse is healed.

In addition, her entire demeanor has improved. She came to me a shy, unconfident, nervous wreck. She used to tense up all the time and panic easily. She didn't trust anyone, human or equine. She couldn't stand still during trimming appointments. She kicked out defensively.

Well, that horse has left the building. The Shaveya I have with me now has developed confidence, bravery, and has overcome her nervousness. I suspect the Chinese herbs helped, as did relocating to a smaller barn (from 40 horses down to 12). She is in a mixed herd and gets to hang out with Cheerios, whom she likes a lot. Laugh if you must, but the animal psychic I had read her once (out of fun and curiosity) told me Cheerios was her boyfriend. OK... maybe so. They're together, either way. She stands beautifully on a loose line for the trimmer. She lifts her feet politely. She no longer kicks.

She's happy.

The only thing that concerns me is that she's a bit skinny coming out of winter. My guess is that because she feels better, she's moving around more than she ever did, so her food intake needs to increase to keep up with that. Otherwise, she seems fine. I'll watch her as the warmer days arrive. If she stays skinny, I'll call the vet.

Cheerios is great as always. He celebrated his 11th birthday Saturday (Shaveya turned 10 on the 4th). I have one Pisces horse and one Aries. It is interesting that my parents had those same birth signs. (Cheerios' birthday is the day before my Mother's.)

I have a new "job". It's to offset board fees. I'm shoveling. Yup. Cleaning stalls. But there's more.

The BM at this barn, S, is a very sweet gal in her mid-20s. She's married with a year-old daughter. She has a full-time day job. She also gives riding lessons, works with 4H, shows, competes, and trains horses.

And she asked ME if I'd be interested in helping her out with HER horses. As part of the board deal. Basically, do my thing with them, play with them, ride them if I want. Interact with them and get them "going" for the upcoming season.

I was floored.

Me?

Now, she is naturally-inclined but not Parelli. However, she's very interested in PNH. VERY interested. Positive interested. As in, could probably be a "convert" without much further encouragement. (It's a very supportive environment—a couple other boarders do Parelli, though as the one said, not exclusively, which I guess is all right for them; as for me, I'm monogamous.) As in, asks ME for advice—and she's the trainer. But it's on a peer-to-peer basis, not the usual "I'm the trainer—let's just see how much you really know *snort*" that so many of my PNH pals encounter. It's more like she considers me at (or maybe above?) her level of knowledge.

Which I find very interesting.

On one occasion last fall, she had the unusual experience of being unable to catch her main horse and was telling me about it. I asked if she'd mind if I tried something with him. She said "Sure, go ahead". I said "OK" and asked her to come with me and we went into the pasture to get him. The whole time I pointed out things to watch for, like his ears, body position, and so on, what it meant and the like. Did the approach/retreat. Basically played the catching game with him while explaining why I was doing what I was doing. It worked, of course. He caught us.

I took him into the round pen and played with him some more until he caught on and was following me all around the pen.

S told me the other day that since that session, she hasn't had one problem catching him.

That's why she wants me to play with her horses.

Five of them.

She's a bit stretched for time with the baby, the job and the barn, which I fully understand. I said yes. I'm absolutely flabbergasted, humbled, and astounded.

I know. I'm not L3 yet. I know they advise us to take one horse all the way through before developing any others, and I can understand why; they want us to deal with one set of horseanality issues before taking on a different set. But I have two horses myself—they are polar opposites and it has helped my horsemanship develop because I must adapt to each of them, often in the same day. I can see where it might work best for some people to focus on one horse at a time, but on the other hand, I can also see where that might lead one to become complacent. If your horse always behaves like X, you come to expect X as a response, and if you go too long like that, then when you get a new horse and he behaves like Y, well, it's like restructuring your entire ballgame.

The key to horsemanship is to be able to adapt quickly to the ever-changing responses from the horse. How better to learn flexibility and the ability to adapt than to adjust to several different horses throughout the week?

They aren't difficult or challenging horses, this bunch—they are everyday horses like mine. Cheerios is actually a tad challenging. S says he's one of the smartest horses she's ever seen. That intelligence and confidence is what makes him a higher-level horse than most others. I say this not with pride or ego, mind you—just that I know I have the savvy to know whether or not to move forward with this.

My plan is to play a bit with each of her horses and see what shows up. If anything appears to be more than I can handle, I'll step away. If I'm unsure about how to approach something, I'll either leave it, stop playing with that one, or ask for help from an instructor. I won't try to solve anything by myself that is outside of my current level of horsemanship. I've been soaking up Liberty & Horse Behavior as well as the new Success Series (I have ALL the DVDs, videos and Levels programs, except for the one about raising foals). And I certainly will begin online on the ground first! No riding! I'm confident, but I'm not stupid. LOL!

My guess is, she sees something in me that maybe I don't see in myself. She is very particular about her horses and her barn, which is why she won't hire an outsider to clean. She wants someone she trusts. That she trusts ME to help develop her horses says a lot to me.

There is another aspect to it. If I do want to be a PNH Instructor someday, the experience will begin much like this. From what I understand, the Instructor trainees start at the bottom once accepted. They help out at the centers and on tours. That means what you think it does: cleaning stalls, handling turn out, feeding, watering, grooming, being a go-fer, fixing fences, cleanup, building stuff, maintenance... in addition, studying horsemanship and instructorship, developing the horses that are assigned to you, and IF you can squeeze it in, playing with your own horses. After a good year of that, if you move up to the next level, the duties are more teaching-oriented and less about chores. It gets better from there. As you rise in the ranks, your duties become more teaching and horse oriented and less chore-oriented.

So the three aspects are: barn chores, horse development assignments, and your own horsemanship goals.

Kind of like what I'm starting now at the barn. I see it as good preparation for my future.

I cleaned six of 12 stalls Friday and it took me three days to recover. (Laugh. Go ahead. I'm out of shape. But not for long.) Tomorrow, the REAL fun begins.

Absent

Absent
Yep. Absent.

Well, the horses are fine, preparing to shed their winter coats. The BM shared a few tales with me about my horses—luckily she is of the tolerant "that's just horses" mentality or I might be on the way out! LOL!

It appears that Cheerios has earned a new nickname. Houdini. He is an escape artist. He has ducked under the electric tape fence on several occasions to go where he wanted to go. He has also been inviting his pasture buddies to join him on these excursions. Sometimes they do; sometimes he's on his own. Thankfully it is a very quiet country road—but still. Eesh.

BM says he's probably the smartest horse she's ever seen. She also said it's a good thing his personality is pleasant or he'd be a nightmare. That's my boy. Adorable (and knows it), too smart for his own good, and thankfully friendly and willing. Athletic, too. Come to think of it, that's the recipe for the perfect partner, isn't it?

Shaveya has improved all around, but the trade-off is that she is chewing. She's chewing wood. Trees. Chewing the bark right off the trees. We aren't sure if it's displaced behavior, anxiety, the fact that I've had to discontinue the most expensive herbs due to a temporary cash flow situation, or something else. Might be her teeth. We are all overdue for the dentist. My guess is, it's the herbs. Yikes. Well, soon. (Her new nickname is Chewbacca.)

The best news is, I've been given the go-ahead to start playing with and riding her this year! Start off 5-10 minutes at a time at a walk, see how she is the next day. Play it by ear. This is great. This means I can start her in L1 for real.

Of course, I haven't been keeping up with PNH much. I'm still a Savvy Club member, still getting the mailings, but... I'm behind. However, life has been rather frenetic since Mom and Dad got sick and passed on. The estate stuff is nearly wrapped up, so I'll be free (in more ways than one) very soon and able to call my own shots.

My ideal vision for my life is as follows: I'm earning my living quite successfully as a musician, composing, recording, playing out. On days "off", I work on my music; on days "on", I'm probably on a project or playing out. Plenty of time to get outside and play with/ride my horses, plenty of clinics, and plenty of time to meditate and study the LOA. That's it. That, and a few million bucks, and I'm happy.

The weather is warmer, it'll be in the 50s Tuesday, and they have a trim appt so I anticipate the first play session of 2008. Looking forward to it.

BFOs
BFO. Blinding Flash of the Obvious. That is what we call it when we have a sudden, blinding insight, an "oh, DUH" moment during horseplay. I've been having a lot of those lately.

Last week, I was playing in the round pen with Cheerios. This was just after playing with a visiting yearling at the BM's request. The yearling was in for "training"—respect and manners—and I suspect the BM wanted to confirm her suspicions that it wasn't the horse, it was the owner. Meaning, she knew she could get the horse to respond, because that's what she does (train and give riding lessons). She wanted to see if someone else could get a response, I think, especially a non-trainer.

Of course, I got great responses, bonded with the filly, fell in love, and wanted to buy her. Of course, she's for sale. Of course, I can't justify it because the BM might raise board in January (due to rising hay/bedding costs) nor can I justify a horse that will need far more attention than I'm already (not) giving my Levels Partner. Plus I'm only L1 officially.

But it did soften the way I asked, and that carried over to Cheerios, and was I surprised to get BETTER responses from a light suggestion. I know that's the tip of the iceberg, that there is subtlety I'm missing with regard to when he changes from LB Confident to RB Unconfident and so on, but it was a major BFO.

Then I mounted up bareback, just to do Passenger Lessons. I just wanted to sit on him. Move with him. Remember how to do that. Because last time I tried to ride, I realized, dear me, I've forgotten how to trot. Yes. I've been that lackadaisical this year. I've fallen away.

I shut my eyes and just "listened" to him with my body as he stood there. The oddest thing happened. I suddenly became acutely aware of his body under mine, and acutely aware of the most incremental shifts in his balance or stance. Just standing still, he had to focus carefully on maintaining his balance, or rather, balancing me. If I shifted ever so slightly, he had to shift to accommodate my shift. Likewise, I could feel him swaying beneath me—swaying I say, but if you looked at us you wouldn't see it—and I had to focus on maintaining my own balance point.

It wasn't like big human sitting on broad backed beast anymore. It was like gigantic upside-down pyramid poised on top of gigantic right-side up pyramid, where the only contact point, the balance point, is the tippy tops of the pyramids. Any great shift would cause it to topple.

It dawned on me just how difficult it must be for a horse to carry a human rider, and why some horses are just plain impossible to ride no matter how well balanced you are—it's because THEY have not learned how to carry themselves balanced, let alone with weight added. Then toss an unbalanced rider into the mix—disaster.

Now THAT is a BFO.

Cheerios received many apologies that day.

We have a round pen now, btw, thanks to me and my generosity. I bought the panels and gate and helped assemble it, and the BM is paying me back in board trade. They also fenced in the back pasture so there is a riding area now. Perfect timing, Winter is here. Of course. But that's all right. I'm thoroughly studying L&HB and will be well prepared come first thaw.

NOT IMPRESSED
I'm sorry to say this, but so far, I'm not impressed with Parelli's new release, the Success Series. It's 10 DVDs sold as a set but also available individually. Thank God I"m in the Savvy Club and got a huge discount because if I'd purchased these separately at regular price (or as the set) I'd be complaining.

But that's because I have the original VHS version of the Seven Games, and when compared to the Seven Games DVD included here, the new version is lame (so far). I've watched Horsenality all the way through—interesting, but there is far more information in the Liberty & Horse Behavior set released last year.

Part of me suspects Success is a well-crafted teaser advert designed to promote sales of the two Levels packages and L&HB. If so, that's sad.

This is the first product of theirs that I've been disappointed with. Perhaps I'll change my opinion after viewing the remaining eight DVDs. It doesn't make me want to quit PNH, mind you. I still believe PNH is THE BEST horsemanship program in the universe. This release just left me wanting a lot more.

Happy Horses
The move was the best thing for my horses and me. I think they've adjusted more quickly than I have, though. They settled right in. Cheerios has a new buddy. Shaveya has a huge new stall with plenty of room to turn around in, and for the first time ever, I witnessed a happy relaxed mare quietly munching hay in her stall. That is new. The expression on her face was worth all the hassle of moving. She is at peace with her new life. Relieved. (Right now mares are turned out part of the day and rotate the second pasture with the one stallion on the lot; they'll soon have a third pasture, but they don't want to turn out a stallion with mares next door and I'm totally in agreement with that. Beside, it's better for Shaveya to be off grass more than on.)

I'm not used to it yet. I still have an automatic reaction of dread when I think "go to the barn". It takes a moment before I remember, "Oh yeah. That place is history. We're at the new barn now! It's closer, and I am actually allowed to enjoy myself now!" It will be nice when it finally sinks in and I have an automatic reaction like I used to of "OH BOY! I get to go to the BARN!" Time will help.

It's also wonderful to have a barn manager who CARES. In addition, she fully grasps the healthcare program and is unbelievably helpful. Heaven has a special place for her when her time is through. She's good people. She calls to let me know about oat levels. She even asked if I wanted her to pick up some oats at the grain elevator when she went out, because it's less expensive than the local feed store. Wow. What a difference! What a 180 from the last place.

Now, before you say "too good to be true", let me remind you: there are no riding trails, there is no round pen (yet) in which to work, there is no arena in which to play. There are only two pastures and a barn with stalls and a nice owner/manager. But that's all right. Because the health, well-being, and safety of my horses is far more important than whether I have a place to ride right now. I hardly went on the trails, anyway. But I did make use of the round pen at the old place (when there wasn't a horse being "stalled" there) and the arena (when the mares weren't turned out in the "mud lot"). In other words, I had all the amenities, but I wasn't ever able to take advantage of them in recent years.

The BM said that Shaveya still isn't sound, but she does see a bit of improvement. She's a little better. That's good news.

Well, Shaveya has probably been yanked around feed-wise for so long that the diet stopped working. It only works if it's consistent. Research shows that horses with Insulin Resistance can have an episode (lameness) from JUST ONE MEAL containing sugar. If that's the case, what would a yo-yo diet of a couple days on oats followed by a few days on sweet feed and back and forth do to her? It took six weeks when we started the diet before noticeable improvement occurred. She's been out there three weeks. By the end of July, Shaveya should be much better. I don't know. We may have lost all the ground we made last year, thanks to the old barn. We might be back at square one, and it might take another year and a half to get her back to where she was before the management changed at the old barn. I hope not; I'm just preparing for the worst while expecting a complete and dramatic turnaround with no lost ground.

The holistic vet is coming out Thursday! I am so looking forward to hearing her diagnosis. My gut instinct says it will probably be an easily correctable issue in her organs—maybe her reproductive system or her liver—and that adding some Chinese herbs will right the imbalance and render her sound. We'll see.

Anyway, happier days are finally here. Now if I can just motivate myself to GO to the barn. It'll come back to me. I just have to get used to the idea of having FUN at the barn again.

Heaven Obliged

We're Home
Less than 24 hours after posting my intent, I found the barn through a bizarre long-distance connection I have, and I went right out Friday to have a look-see. We moved Monday. It was totally stealth, which is great for me, but begs the question of security at the old barn. I mean, anybody could have just drove up any old time, picked out a horse, and drove off. After all, I did. But they were legally my horses. The new barn fits most of my criteria.

• be 10 miles from my home or less

It's about 17 minutes to drive, which is closer than the old barn.

• be Parelli all the way

Not officially. But judging by how my horses were trailer loaded, I've chosen the right place. They did exactly what I would have done, with only a couple of minor things. Parelli Practitioners stand outside the trailer and Send the horse into the trailer. They got in the trailer and tugged on the lead rope (barely). That's fine. Everything else was perfect. The bonus is that the girl who runs the barn expressed a strong unsolicited desire to learn Parelli, and to go to Parelli Events with me. This may turn into a PNH barn after all. She's already a very Naturally-based person.

• be advocates for natural health and hoof care

And then some! She gave me the number of the holistic vet who lives just up the road. This vet can "see" inside the horse. I know it sounds crazy, but I've had strange enough experiences that I know it's possible.

• have no more than 12 horses including my two

Eight total, counting my two, with plans to build four more stalls and no more.

• be run by people who support what I choose to do for my horses and oblige my requests

Absolutely. They're very nice.

• cost half as much per horse as my current barn

Ehh, it's a little less. It's not more, that's the main thing. Unless it was a very fancy show barn, I would not expect to pay more than my old barn charged because the old barn had 30 acres, an outdoor arena, a round pen, and instant trail access to the metropark trails. This barn is on 13 acres. That's it. Barn, acreage, house, and pastures.

• have a round pen and arena that are actually open and available to be USED by the boarders as a round pen and arena to ride in

However. Not yet, but she plans to. They just bought the place last year on foreclosure and are working to make it the way they want it. The round pen is going up this summer, the indoor? Someday. More pastures will be fenced off and four more stalls added. So it WILL be that way if I can be patient.

• have two open stalls RIGHT NOW.

This is how nice they are. They didn't have the stalls all built yet. But the stall parts were "in", so she and her hubby spent all day Saturday moving stuff around and building more stalls so they'd have a place for my horses because she understood how concerned I was for their safety.

It feels like an enormous weight has been lifted. I feel lighter. I really do. Now I can go watch all of the Liberty & Horse Behavior course and actually start practicing it again! She has a truck and trailer. She's very interested in PNH. Who knows? I foresee play dates, a Parelli Playground, and possibly some clinics in our future. Even if I'm the only official PNH student, it feels better.

It feels like "home".

As the Saddle Burns

Barn Drama
The situation at the barn is pretty bad. I'm not sure I trust the current management after the discussion I was dragged into today concerning my lame horse. Apparently this guy actually supports the woman that verbally assaulted me last month, and said at least she had the balls to confront me. Anyone who supports someone who treats another human being the way this bitch did is NOT someone I wish to entrust with the care of my horses.

I need a new barn and I need one fast. It has to:

• be 10 miles from my home or less
• be Parelli all the way
• be advocates for natural health and hoof care
• have no more than 12 horses including my two
• be run by people who support what I choose to do for my horses and oblige my requests
• cost half as much per horse as my current barn
• have a round pen and arena that are actually open and available to be USED by the boarders as a round pen and arena to ride in
• have two open stalls RIGHT NOW.

Heaven help us.

Lame? Sound? Who Knows?

We'll See
Tomorrow, I'll be at the barn to ride with my new trail buddy and her horse. I find it interesting that her mare is nearly a dead ringer for my beloved Wildflower. But that horse's personality is different from my Wildie. My friend's mare has threshold issues outside of the arena, gets nervous in the woods (or at the mouth of the woods, which is as far as we got before the skeeters divebombed us despite copious layers of OFF and we had to turn back), and needs to learn to be patient when waiting.

Luckily, my new friend is very open-minded, possibly even a future convert to the Cult of Parelli. When we couldn't ride in the woods, we spent the time playing in the lane. She rode up and down the lane, getting her mare comfortable with being there. I worked on Cheerios' leadership issue. Thanks to his former leaser, he has the idea that he can make decisions under saddle. When it's time to go home, it's time to go home. Going southward down the lane means going to the barn, being untacked, and being turned loose or grazed. It does NOT mean turn around and go back up the lane several times.

Unfortunately for him, with me, it means we go where I decide, and the ride isn't done until I say it's done, and you need to learn that pointing south is not an automatic ending to the ride, and threatening to buck me off isn't going to change my plan. That girl ingrained a pattern into him, boy-oh. I have my work cut out for me. And the girl (and everyone else at the barn familiar with my financial situation at the moment) wonders why I refuse to consider leasing him out again.

Let's be honest. I like the girl who leased him. She was kind to him, really fell for him, and she took good care of him. But after three years, she began to act a bit too familiar with him. He was viewed almost as if she were his owner. That created problems. However, she was quite gracious when I asked to end the lease after Wildflower died. I thought it was clear: sure, if you're out riding the next horse you lease, you can certainly say hello to him. It's not like I want to keep them apart. But there is a boundary issue. It's OK to give him a hello pat when he comes up to you in the field. It's OK to give him one cookie if you have an extra. It is NOT OK to halter him, lead him to the front of the barn and graze him for an hour. It is NOT OK to cross-tie him and spend the afternoon grooming him without my knowledge. It is NOT OK to give him special treats, like fixing warm bran mash for your favorite horses, without my knowledge.

He is not YOURS.

He never was. You were borrowing him. You were granted the privilege of use for a period of time that has now ended.

It can be likened to having your ex's gf stop by for a back rub once in awhile, after he's already engaged to you. It's one thing to say a polite hello passing on the street; it's another to have it off for shits and giggles every now and then.

It also confuses Cheerios. He's not sure who his leader is. When she's around, he's treated one way and he can get away with things. When I'm around, I expect better behavior than that. It's like good cop/bad cop and guess who's the bad one?

I tried to converse with her about it. I've explained my goals with PNH and what she'd need to do if she wanted to continue leasing Cheerios. Basically, she would have to get with the program. I would have willingly loaned her my study materials and equipment, rather than making her buy them, and I wouldn't expect her to assess, but she'd have to behave the same way around him, and help me maintain that consistency.

She wasn't interested.

OK then. Back off.

But nobody gets this. They think the logical solution to my problems is to lease him again. It's all about money. Yeah, sure, that's the easy answer. Lease out my horse to someone whose inconsistency with my program causes me to have to undo everything every time I'm with him; oh, but it'll make me able to "help" my other lame horse.

Y'know, I CAN afford to do further diagnostics, to a point. Or, I will once my parents' estate settles and my house sells and Grandma's house sells. But right now, I'm in a holding pattern. However, my mare is being fed, watered, turned out, exercised, trimmed regularly, and is absolutely fine despite occasional bouts of stiffness or soreness. She CAN wait a little while longer. She has not changed. No matter what I do or don't do, I have no control over it. And the vet, well, I wasted all that money proving what I already knew to be true. I didn't need a second set of x-rays to tell me, gee, George, there's no visible sign of the problem here. Would they x-ray further up? NO. Because they can't. Or won't.

Can I afford to drag her to MSU for MRIs of her shoulders and spine? Yeah, probably. Is it worth it? I don't know. Can we fix her? I don't know. I haven't given up on her. I really believe that moving her will change everything. I really believe that the management is harming more than helping via non-compliance while pushing the shoeing agenda and thinking their way is better and doing it their way without my knowledge. She WAS BETTER before they came on board and started pushing their own agenda.

Coincidence?

Hmm.

We tried boots. They BARELY helped. Had the problem been in her feet, which everyone but my NHCP and I insist is the case, the boots would have caused dramatic, immediate improvement. It didn't.

If boots didn't help, guess what—NEITHER WILL SHOEING HER. Boots serve exactly the same purpose as shoeing, without the resulting damage to the hoof wall from nails and constriction of the hoof mechanism.

But they are so deaf and blind out there. They saw it. They cheered at the improvements. Uh, funny—my NHCP and I are the ones trained to look for the slightest change, and we saw nothing. But people see what they want to see. Yes, that could be turned around on me. But we both desperately wanted to see IMPROVEMENT to avoid having the shoeing agenda thrust upon us further. So, why would we not see it and the shoeing advocates claim they saw it?

Then, they insist on adhering to the "shoes will fix it" campaign despite evidence that IT IS NOT IN HER FEET therefore shoes, boots, pads, styrofoam, duct tape, etcetera won't help!!!

AAAAGGGGGHH!!!! *banging my head against the wall*

I don't want to pour anymore money or worry into this mare. I just want the problem to GO AWAY. Period. I just want that horse to miraculously, overnight, without human intervention, become perfectly, wonderfully, beautifully, consistently sound.

We'll see how she's doing tomorrow.

Crap. It's nearly 3:00 AM. Time to hit the hay.

Lameness Rides Again

Shaveya's Troubles
So I've been absent again. Not much going on with horses lately; I was in school again, taking five classes, going crazy. Now that school is out, though...

Shaveya is on the downside of the lameness rollercoaster again. I am not sure of the cause. Here is the chronology:

NOVEMBER 2006
Right before winter, my NHCP proclaimed her darn near sound. I was told she finally had a good hoof on her. After a year and a half of careful trims and the sugar-free feeding regimen, it seemed we'd turned the corner at last and that 2007 would be the year she was finally sound. I envisioned happy spring days playing with her and taking her on trail rides (along with bringing Cheerios through L2).

But it was not to be. Due to the weather, school, and estate issues, I got somewhat lax on the trim schedule.

FEBRUARY 2007
She was lame again. Now. I'm not here to make accusations. But I find it somewhat troubling that the onset of the lameness coincided with two things at the barn:

• running out of her oats, putting her back on sweet feed, and not telling me;
• the manager deciding that it was too much trouble to measure out her special feed once a day and unless I had SmartPak do it or prepackaged it myself, they weren't going to do it at all.

She'd been on sweet feed for three weeks and was horribly lame. I told them that she had to go back on oats etc immediately and delivered the oats. They claimed to be giving her the rest of the diet... until this spring when they told me they hadn't been. I mean, OH, MY, GOD, do they think I have her on special food because I enjoy the extra expense? There is a REASON for it, people! I know they don't believe me when I tell them she is insulin resistant, but that's NOT UP TO THEM TO DECIDE, is it? It is, after all, MY horse, and I'm paying them to take care of her according to my wishes. Correct?

I had her trimmed. She went back on her feed. I got a call two days later informing me that she was MUCH better after adjusting to her trim.

SIDENOTE/BACK STORY
Here's the thing. Barn management changed again. Right after Wildflower died in 2005, the girl managing the barn quit. A nice lesbian couple came onboard and were there about a year. Then they bought their own place and a new couple (hetero) took over sometime in 2006.

The lesbian couple were skeptical about the treatment plan, but went along with it anyway, and were pleasantly surprised when Shaveya made a huge turnaround.

The new managers aren't so accomodating. They are BOTH farriers of the shoeing variety. They believe that shoes are the solution to everything. They claim to be forward-thinking and they are to an extent, but it's a small extent compared to where MY thinking is. They have been pushing and pushing and pushing for me to shoe Shaveya. I have been politely refusing, and have even had my NHCP talk to them.

Shaveya was x-rayed in 2005. The x-rays showed nothing significant; a little sidebone (ossification of the lateral cartileges) but not enough to cause such severe lameness. This is what we ruled out:

• abcess
• laminitis
• navicular
• founder
• rotation of the P3
• osteitis
• arthritis
• fractures
• degeneration of any kind

In other words, her feet looked FINE. Still, the vet recommended shoes and pads on all four feet. That was when I went searching for a non-shoe alternative because of the barn policy against rear shoes. The NHCP program was working. Shaveya was sound enough to go on a couple of light trail rides last year with no trouble. Then management changed to the current team. Her lameness returned intermittently, and ALWAYS coincided, oddly enough, with her being fed sweet feed instead of her special diet. Fast forward to today.

MAY 2007
The barn manager trailered us to the vet for ANOTHER set of x-rays. I was quite resistant to this. They have been pushing for this for a couple of months. I've been explaining to them the importance of keeping her on her diet AT ALL COSTS—according to safergrass.org, in an IR horse, even ONE meal of sugary food can cause a relapse/episode. ONE. MEAL. It falls on deaf ears. They pretty much do what they want out there now.

But I finally agreed to go after being bitched at by the barn manager as well as HIS manager (the guy who sold me the horse, isn't that funny). The topper was an incident that occurred at the barn last weekend where another boarder verbally attacked me over Shaveya's care, insinuated that I was being cruel letting her suffer like that, ignored my facts and my pointing out that Shaveya was in fact greatly improved since last year, then told me either I put down that horse or she'll call the Humane Society on me.

Can you EVEN believe that?

First of all, yes, Shaveya limps. She is sore. BUT. She is NOT grinding her teeth. She does that when she is miserable. I know what she looks like miserable. She'll be extremely stiff-legged. Her face is all tense. She'll grind her teeth. She'll breath shortly and sharply with each step. She'll stay far far away from other horses and not want to interact with me. She'll look off into the distance and tune out. OK?

Lately, she's been bright-eyed, happy to see me, relaxed, a little gimpy, but she still trots around, comes to me, interacts with me, and does NOT grind. She is present, she is focused on me, and her breathing is good. Her hoof care specialist says her feet are perfect. There is no sign of anything causing her pain.

But when her diet is changed back to sweet feed, she becomes lame, and it takes several weeks to get her righted again. They are playing a ping-pong game with her out there. If she goes off the feeding regimen, she goes lame; the longer she's off, the lamer she gets. They complain; I insist they rectify the feeding issue; they put her back on it (or say they do); she begins to heal; they take her off it (without my knowing); she regresses again; they complain to me; I find out she's out of something; I insist they put her back on the diet; they agree... repeat. She never has the chance to recuperate before they pull her food for whatever excuse it is this time, and it takes weeks to heal her so she's just riding a rollercoaster.

I am so mad.

TODAY
I got the second set of x-rays done. The barn manager was expecting to see laminitis or founder or even, shock gasp, rotation. He was just sure of it.

Surprise.

NOTHING.

Feet look GREAT. In fact, the only change since 2005's set is that they have improved (gotten stronger). This is what we ruled out:

• abcess
• laminitis
• navicular
• founder
• rotation of the P3
• osteitis
• arthritis
• fractures

She still has the sidebone but IT HAS NOT CHANGED. She has what the vet thinks MIGHT be a slight bit of degeneration in the P3, but it was inconclusive.

I had him x-ray up her leg.

Nothing. Not a single damned thing.

She's clean.

OK, so it's NOT her feet. So tell me, then—why on EARTH did the vet then tell me to go ahead and put shoes and pads on her front feet and call him at the end of the week to let him know how she's doing? If it ISN'T her feet, shoes and pads will do NOTHING to stop the pain. But they will cause long-term damage to the hoof, this I know; a beautiful, perfect hoof that we have been so carefully tending and healing for almost two years WITHOUT shoes.

My guess? He's clueless. Not as a vet, but with respect to Shaveya's case. I think he just is at a loss because the x-rays didn't back up their expectations, and he has no idea what other sources there might be. So he fell back onto the standard issue response: well, if the horse is lame, stick a shoe on it and see if that helps. (If it does help, it's because it's a bandaid masking the real symptoms.)

See, I know more than I did two years ago. I began studying natural hoof care and was on the road to becoming an NHCP myself until my parents got sick. I was a three-day clinic away (hoof dissection and anatomy) from being out in the field working as a practitioner in training. I've been at seminars where we studied lameness, hoof anatomy, and looked at cadaver hooves to learn about the structure and function of the hoof and what different treatments do.

I'm not just a stupid horse owner who believes everything the vet or some horse-shoer tells me (no offense to the qualified ones).

I know, for example, that the reason shoes damage hooves is because they restrict blood flow to the hoof. Inside the hoof, the coffin bone or P3 bone which is shaped like a miniature hoof sits nestled in a basket of blood vessels (yum). When the horse puts weight on the hoof (loads it), the hoof expands, and the blood vessels open to allow blood to flow into the hoof area. When the horse unloads (picks up his foot), the hoof contracts, pushing the blood out of the hoof up into the leg. Good blood flow is essential for healing damaged tissue; it's also necessary to keep the tissue in the hoof alive.

When they shoe a horse, the foot is off the ground, unloaded, and contracted. The metal shoe then holds the hoof in that contracted position even when he's loading it—meaning the blood flow is restricted. That's bad. Long-term restriction of blood flow to the hoof causes things to die in there (such as the laminae, which are little tubes inside the hoof that connect the hoof to the bone... when they die, the hoof wall begins to separate from the hoof and that isn't good—and they do NOT grow back). Add in the nails that compromise the integrity of the hoof wall (think drywall and lots of nails), and you have a prescription for long term damage that CAUSES things like laminitis, navicular, and all the other nasties that make a horse so lame they need to be euthanized. Yet, because it's the way it's been done for centuries, they keep on shoeing horses. Even if the shoe is glued on, it's a short-term solution because the hoof can expand in that instance and grows beyond the shoe. The shoe is a solid inflexible object; the hoof is a living, flexing organism. The two don't mix well.

That's why natural hoof care practitioners take an oath never to put another shoe on a horse, and advocate for the use of boots, which protect the feet yet allow for natural expansion and contraction of the hoof wall.

OK? So please respect my intelligence and my knowledge base/philosophy and do not insult me by telling me that "sometimes shoes are the only way". Excuse me. Tell an Irish Catholic that the Protestant religion is the only way to get to Heaven or vice versa. Tell a black person that only white people are smart. Go on, do it. I dare you.

Shoes are NOT the only way. If they were, then there would be no controversy surrounding hoof care because there wouldn't be anything going up against it.

Basically, I am right back where I was two years ago, and I have a set of resistant barn managers to contend with. I know the obvious solution is just find another barn. Well, I'm looking. It is a challenge to find a barn that:

• has dry lots
• has a round pen/outdoor arena in which to work
• is Parelli-friendly
• is open and accepting of natural and holistic care
• is willing to feed according to my plan
• believes horses belong on 24-7 turnout (not cooped up in a stall all day)
• believes in letting horses run naked (ie not requiring turnout in halters)
• costs less than where I'm currently boarding
• is safe, clean, and close by
• caters to a non-competing non-showing crowd
• has sane owners that I can trust implicitly with the lives of my beloved horses
• has open stalls at the peak of riding season
• understands my treatment methods and is agreeable with them (ie won't try to change it behind my back according to their own rules)

I'm looking, believe me. I'll find it. That, or maybe somebody else will take over the management (yet again) who fits the bill. The current managers just had a baby. I think they're busy enough without running a 40-stall boarding barn.

TEST (Again)
Just moved into the new Beta Blogger. Things are going to be wierd for a while. If I don't like the results, I might move to my own DIY blog on my own server. Stay tuned.

Huge

No Fear

Today, it was absolutely gorgeous outside, so I headed to the barn. It took some effort, though, as does everything these days (mentally). I told myself I didn't need to do anything, that it was OK if all I could muster up the energy for was to visit with them (I have two: my Paint mare is Shaveya, horse #3 if you're keeping track). Lately, just thinking about going for a trail ride or having a serious play/study session wears me out. It's the depression from this past year; it'll pass (I hope). I spent a little time in the mares' pasture with Shaveya, then went over to the boys' pasture to do the same with Cheerios. When I say spend some time, I mean hang out. Literally. Scratch them, pet them, love on them, walk beside them, demand nothing of them. No halter required. (This Parelli stuff is A-MAZ-ING.)

After a long session of catering to my horse's scratching whims, I felt this overwhelming urge to just sit on him. I haltered him (rope halter), checked his brakes and made sure he looked "ready" to ride (he was, they were all pretty laid back today), tied the 12-foot lead line into "reins", found a ditch to put him in (so I could be up higher), and hopped on. Bareback. With him wearing a halter and lead rope. No bit. No saddle. Naturally. Like a wild Injun (I'm part Cherokee so it's OK for me to say that).

And, there we sat.

As I was drinking in the sunshine and the quiet peace of being on my horse's back as he casually grazed in the pasture with other horses about 100 yards away, it occurred to me that:

• I was sitting on Cheerios


• bareback


• no bit, not even the hackamore, just a rope halter and lead line


• in the 10-acre pasture


• surrounded by other horses

...and not the least bit afraid.

That, my friends, is HUGE.

TESTING...
OK. I think I've finally fixed the issues with my template. This is the test to find out...

A Bit of Horse News

FINALLY. A day with horses.

Thursday was sunny and gorgeous with 60-degree temperatures. Not that I'm a fair-weather horsewoman; but it was a good motivator to get me out of the house and away from the sorting nightmare for a bit. Besides, the farrier was coming.

Shaveya received a great report. After a year and a half of careful barefoot trimming by an AANHCP-certified practitioner and a complete dietary overhaul, my beautiful little Paint mare has finally developed the deep concavity of sole that she needed. No wonder she's been cantering around the pasture rather than barely able to walk two feet. She finally has good feet!

I'm so glad that I followed my gut rather than listening to the naysayers. So many told me to put shoes on her to "protect" her tender feet. My gut said, this is wrong... pounding nails into her foot can not be good for her hoof wall..." I know what repeated nailing does to the integrity of drywall—logic told me it would be the same with the hoof: it would eventually weaken the hoof wall and cause more harm than good. Thankfully, the barn doesn't allow hind shoes. I say "thankfully" because it gave me the excuse I needed to search for non-shoe alternatives. I just said I wanted to treat the whole problem not half of it, and shoeing only the fronts IMHO would only solve half the problem.

Others thought she was "done". Wouldn't ever be rideable. Probably had navicular. Likely that she'd have to be put down.

All untrue. Since discovering Jaime Jackson's methods based on the wild hoof model, I've found information backing up my instincts, and have learned that pretty much every problem can be solved with the right trim, NO shoes, and the proper environment, diet and exercise program. My mare is living proof of this.

Shaveya has insulin-resistance. It's like being a diabetic. Too much sugar makes her feet hurt, plus someone chopped her too short and at the wrong angles so she had heel pain and a thin solar base. Basically, her P3 (coffin bone) was too close to the ground. It's like quicking yourself when you trim your nails too short. It was especially apparent on soft ground such as grass or sand. She could walk fine on gravel. Isn't that the opposite of what you'd think with a horse with sore feet? The reason, as I discovered while taking a two-day Pete Ramey hoof care clinic this summer, is that the soft ground allows the hoof to sink in and the ground surface comes into contact with the sole whereas the harder gravel surface provides support so there is less solar contact.

In addition to the trim changes, her diet was changed. All sugar was removed. That means no more SWEET FEED!!! No molasses. Do you know how many horse products, treats and whatnot, contain molasses? ALL of them! She's been on a strict diet of whole oats mixed with Purina 12/12 and Braggs Organic Apple Cider Vinegar. She also no longer gets chemical wormers. I use a product called N.O.M.S. Powder that is a natural method of killing worms. It works. She also stays off the grass early in the spring when the sugar content is highest. After mid-summer it's okay for her to graze again. She grumbles a bit about being banned from grass (grinds her teeth) but it's for the best. If she eats early grass she goes lame.

Cheerios is also on the diet. His hooves were already good except for the quarter crack on the right front. That's all changed, too. He blew a huge abcess last fall in that same hoof at the coronet band. Eventually the abcess site grew down and met up with the crack to form a T. It looked AWFUL. About that time, I stopped leasing him and got him back under my control. I put him on the same farrier schedule as Shaveya and changed his diet, and the crack is gone. His hooves look even better.

OK, this is boring talking about medical stuff. The fun part: playing and riding! I played with both of them a little bit, then turned out Shaveya and saddled up Cheerios. A couple friends met up with me around 4:00. Yes, it gets dark early. But we went out anyway on a sunset trail ride, which was fun and a little creepy being in the woods at dusk. It was pitch black when we were coming back down the lane but the ride was good. We didn't see any deer. Well, we didn't actually SEE anything because it was too dark. LOL!

What tickled me the most was something that happened when I first was bringing him in for his trim, down the lane from the pasture. There are two mini-ditches in the grassy area that borders the lane between the pastures. They are so small it is easy to step over them. However, I got it into my head to see if I could ask Cheerios to jump them even though he could span them with back hooves on one side and front hooves on the other and not have to stretch. The first time, I stepped across one then sent him over (directed him to cross). I sent with a bit of energy. He tilted his head at me, then jumped it lightly. Yay! At the second one, I paused. I looked at him, then I made a big show of hopping over it. He hopped right over it, mimicking me. Such joy. After trying SO HARD to communicate with him in so many sessions and getting nowhere, to have him just mimic me like that without any forethought or serious work was hilarious to me. Can it really be that easy?

Sometimes, the Good Lord blesses you with a moment like that, to remind you that sometimes what you think is so difficult to accomplish is really very simple.

And Happens, And Happens...
It happened. I'm alone. I'm an orphan.

It's been a little over a month now.

Mother succumbed to her illness at 11:42 AM, Saturday, September 30, 2006. She'd been in the hospital with weakness for a couple weeks. They'd done surgery to implant chest and feeding tubes to help her feel more comfortable and had every reason to believe she would go home the following week and be blessed with several more weeks or months ahead. Mid-week following the surgery, her urine output diminished. She ended up suffering the same fate as Dad: renal failure. Complicated with a compromised liver, her body was unable to handle the toxins coursing through her. There is a condition that I think is called hydroencephaly (something like that) where the toxins swell the brain, causing confusion and eventually coma. I was with her from Friday morning when she was still coherent until she died. Over the course of 24 hours, she gradually stopped responding to stimuli and slipped into a coma. She left us peacefully, almost unnoticed, it was so subtle. I held her hand until the very end.

She was laid to rest next to Dad on October 3rd.

The unanswered questions will remain that way. Funny how you can't think of what to ask when they're right there, but later, when it's too late, odd questions pop into your head. The more I analyze our relationship, the more questions arise. Realizations such as perhaps her own mother reacted to her dreams and ideas much the same way she did to mine. Mother only just started telling me the "dark side" of Grandma. Apparently, Grandma was controlling and manipulative. Hmm.

It's occurred to me that Dad was the one I should have gone to for advice, but that I often wound up talking to Mother instead. Dad was so reticent. Dad was like NPR; Mother was Monday Night Football on a widescreen at a sports bar. Conversations would begin with me "listening" to NPR, soft, quiet, soothing tones. Then someone would turn on Monday Night Football, and drown out Dad with the noise. Dad would discuss things with me but Mother would always interject and eventually override him with sheer volume and exuberance. And Mother was always quick to jump in with HER opinion, which soon became YOUR opinion, because there was no getting around it once she'd made up her mind.

I've realized that all of my decisions were made for me by my Mother.

I would go to them needing help researching an idea. Say, college majors or career planning. I'd go to them and present my initial idea: "I've been thinking of majoring in fibers in college, getting a BFA." Before I could even spell out reasons why or present any data to back up my reasons, Mother would jump all over it. I'd state my sentence. Dad would open his mouth to say something, and Mother would blast out "Why? Why would you want to major in that? I thought the whole idea of going to college was so you'd be able to get a job at the end. What can you really do with a major in fibers?" Dad's mouth would clamp shut and my defensiveness would begin to rise. The further the conversation went, the more defensive I would become, because every attempt to support my claim sounded feeble, and she'd jump all over that, too. Pretty soon I felt like an idiot for even suggesting it.

She could have reacted differently. She could have shown polite interest, listened to my reasoning, and then allow ME to make the decision. Even if she didn't agree. She could have phrased her objections more positively. Example:

REALLY BAD:
"Don't be ridiculous. Nobody ever makes any money doing THAT. What are you going to live on?!? We can't support you forever!!!"

BAD, BUT MORE PALATABLE:
"It's very difficult to survive on an artist's salary. You'll probably have to get another job outside of that to support yourself"

BETTER:
"Well, you've certainly chosen a challenging career, but if you work hard enough, you'll probably do all right"

MUCH BETTER:
"Well, you'll have a bit of a challenge, but you're smart, capable, and talented and I have faith that you'll do well"

At least she could have said it's gonna be a challenge, but give it a shot and see where it goes.

But she didn't. She usually blasted me before Dad even had a chance to speak. For some reason, I had many conversations alone with Mother with Dad elsewhere, but not as many with just Dad. Mother was always there, to the point that the prospect of a few hours alone in the car with Dad on a road trip was agonizing to me, because he was SO difficult to talk to. It's hard to talk to someone who remains silent and doesn't say what's on his mind. Like driving with a rock. His mother never let him talk. Funny, neither did Mother, come to think of it. Wonder if that's why he married her? Because she was "familiar"?

That's what my mind has been occupied with today. Where will I go from here? I have a few ideas I'm tossing around. For now, I'll stay put. The house where I'm currently living (theirs) is paid off, free and clear; my house will soon be gone; once the Will goes through Probate, there will be a tidy nest egg for me. There is time to decide. Time to grieve and time to heal.

To everything, there is a season. My parents' season is finished.

My season has just begun.

Life Happens


"Life Happens."

Pat Parelli often says this to people who find themselves sidelined from their once-obsessive PNH studies for a time, whether it be due to illness (human/equine), loss (same), school, work, family, or other events. Many people set up a goal planner—such as, "I'll finish Level Two by the end of this year, Level Three by 2008, get accepted into the Professional's Program in early 2009 and start my third horse at the same time, and by 2012 I'll be working as a 3-star Instructor". Ta dum.

Then life throws a curve—or five—and those goals get scrapped... because "life happened".

Well, life certainly has happened to me. Can it really be three years since Wildflower and I passed Level One and received our coveted red string? It seems a lifetime ago now. And Wildflower's been gone since March 2005. I had to start over, so I bought a new mare (Shaveya) rather than give Cheerios a whirl (wasn't quite ready for him, I thought), then Shaveya immediately went horribly lame—forcing me to face my fears and make Cheerios my new Levels horse. I thought, "ok, I'll be delayed for a few weeks while I bring him through L1", and adjusted my goals accordingly.

Then life happened yet again, and HARD this time.

Forget Level Two. For now.

Dad fell in December, broke his hip and shoulder, spent two months in a nursing home, recovered fine, came home, had about five good weeks, then began the spiraling descent that ended with his death on June 7th from bacterial pneumonia, atrial fibrillation, and good old "old age". He was 88. I don't think that's old, really. I thought he'd be around another 10 years because he was hardly sick a day in his life, unlike Mother, who has always been ill with something or another and survived breast cancer in the 1950's far beyond the doctor's predictions (she's still alive and 86 years old).

So Dad died after a harrowing six months during which every one of my goals was pushed not to the backburner but completely off the stove and into the fridge because somebody had to take care of Mother and step in to handle the finances and household management, and because I'm the only close one, that somebody turned out to be me.

Dad was buried June 13th with full military honors. He was an Air Force Captain that had served two tours of duty, and a well-respected college professor. After the funeral, Mother and I discussed the possibility of my moving in while we adjusted to our New Reality without Dad.

A month later, Mother was diagnosed with advanced cancer of the esophagus, spread to the liver, and given a very grim prognosis. I moved in immediately. My goals moved from fridge to deep freeze. My horses have been languishing among the lush grass with rare visits from me. My saddle has a thick layer of mold on it, and my carrot stick is rotting (not really... just feels like it... carrots... rotting...). About the only success I have to show is that I've ridden Cheerios a handful of times now in the woods, on the trail, saddled but wearing only the Parelli Hackamore. No bit, no bridle—in between it all, we forged a relationship strong enough that I feel safer communicating with him in a "skinny rope bridle and lead rope" than a leather and brass bridle with a piece of iron between his teeth. I've also taken Shaveya on two trail rides, when her lameness abated temporarily, and she was fantastic.

What the future holds, no one knows. Mother's prognosis is "three months to three years, it all depends". We're focusing on years rather than months, but living with the awareness that it could be less. It shifts priorities. People have said, "be sure to ask all the questions you ever wanted answers to, while you have the chance". The interesting thing is, Mother and I have had so many heart to hearts in my lifetime with her that I find I have no unanswered questions left. Or, the questions that she has not answered yet are questions she never will answer, because her personality and way of thinking is such that she'll never be that forthcoming. Confused? I can't ask her why she behaves the way she does because she firmly believes "no such thing". In her mind, she's right, or fine, the way she is. Her character flaws are not visible to her and unless she has a brilliant wave of insightfulness (not likely, knowing her), they never will. My job is to accept her, flaws and all, and love her until she leaves me.

I had more questions for Dad than for Mother, but he was another story. I asked. I really, really tried to dig it out of him, but Dad was very reticent. Opening him up was... harder than getting the clam to spit out the oyster. It was sometimes painful to try to have a conversation with him. Mother told me that Dad's mother never let him talk, so he learned not to talk. She claims he opened up to her... leaving me to think that he only opened up to those he trusted implicitly, and that Mother was one of the rare few he trusted enough to open up to. He was a great father, though. A kinder, gentler, more sympathetic and conscientious man one will never meet. He provided well for us, took great pride in all of us, and his wisdom and intelligence will carry us through till the end. Still... I mourned more for the loss of the relationship I thought we should have had than for the one we did. Then I accepted it, finally.

I was with him moments before he died. He was in the ICU, in renal failure, and they were having trouble keeping his blood pressure up. His dying wish—though I didn't realize this at the time—was for me to "take care of Mother and make sure she's all right". Of course, Dad always said that to me in those last months—it had become our routine. I thought nothing of it, yet as I always did, I reassured him again that I would. His breathing was labored and his eyes were looking at something past my shoulder (what, I don't know). I said I'd go see how she was and that I'd be back in a little while. He said "OK". I turned to leave his room, intending to take a break and go check on Mother in the waiting room. I was at the doorway when something made me pause. I half-turned back and called over my shoulder, almost like an afterthought, "I love you, Dad".

Dad called out feebly "I love you, too".

While I was downstairs calling my sister to tell her she really ought to consider coming in tonight rather than tomorrow, Dad coded. When I returned, I was being paged to ICU. They got him back. They prepared to put him on a ventilator. He coded again. They couldn't get him back. At 3:31 pm, he left us forever.

I'm still not used to it. But I feel blessed that I was able to see him, conscious and coherent, one last time before he left. What better way to say goodbye than to say "I love you"? I'm trying to remember every day to tell Mother I love her, too. Just in case she forgets. This has been by far the worst year of my life, losing Wildflower, then Dad, then being given Mother's prognosis. I've moved out of my house, I'm selling it, and my life has dwindled down to playing caregiver 24/7.

One day, it will change again, and I will be alone. Where I'll go from there, I don't yet know. How this will ultimately change me, I also don't yet know. I only know that I'm still here, and that I will somehow find the courage and strength to go on, after life has finished this round of happening.