February 27th, 2010 Experimenting with Media

Casey likes the morning sun tooI thought I had better get updated on the technological tools that I have at my disposal.  Having had a good babysitter in my web programmer for so long, I haven’t educated myself but with the possibility of not having her services any longer, I had better get cracking on learning how to post stuff!  Here’s my fist attempt.


February 27th, 2010 300 Days of Sunshine!

Even if I hadn’t had coffee this morning (truthfully I can live if I don’t have coffee.  I am more of a juice person) I would have been chipper.  Up to….THIRTY INCHES OF SNOW!!!!  was the weather report for Maine.

Ahhhhhhhhhh……there I sat in my comfy pajamas with my two heelers curled up next to me basking in the morning sun pouring through the picture window.

Yesterday I took in a new boarder and we visited about our collective love-hate relationship with the East Coast.  She’s from Virginia originally but has lived many of the same places I have.

We both love the food in New England.  We both miss the green and yes, the wonderful white snow.  But we don’t miss the friggin bone chilling cold or long winter days….er…..nights or the fact that you can really only ride there 6 months out of the year.  She likes to ride.  I live to ride.

Yesterday it snowed one inch here but was 51 degrees the day before.  And sunny.

Today was in the 50’s and sunny, sunny, sunny.  I have to get used to wearing sunglasses again.

As I petted both of my loyal canine companions I couldn’t help but notice that their coats are as slick and shiney as a new nickel.  They’ve shed since we moved in October and they loooooovvvve the long afternoons of basking in the sun.

While my schedule only allowed me to bask all of thirty minutes this morning, I relate to what they must think.  That is sure is wonderful to have the warm sun warming your bones on a February day.

Speaking of warmed bones.  I noted this morning that all of the horses were basking in it too.  Having weathered through the mild storm, they had already munched contentedly on the piles of hay Kirk and his brother had placed around and bellies full, were doing what me and the dogs were doing.

Lounging in the wonderful, warm, embracing sun.

I sure do love Colorado.

February 21st, 2010 Paranormal Horses

This week has gone by in a blur!  Where does the time go?!  Somewhere between breakfast and dinner, we see anywhere between 1 – 20 + horses in the day.  Some we are training and some are horses that we are trimming.

I look forward to each new appointment.  Nothing tickles me more than getting to meet new horses and people. And ducks, geese, donkey’s, ponies….

I enjoy the conversations both human and….non-human.

Animal communication is…no was…a controversial subject.  But I’ve always felt that animals can communicate just as easily as we can.  Most of the time they communicate without even making a sound.

Many times we ride until well past dark.  I took ShoGun up to work in the indoor arena and after arriving home in the dark I turned him back out to pasture.  Without hesitation he looked left toward the lower pasture, then right toward the upper pasture.  They are seperated by a common area and face two different directions.  He looked left, then right quickly but didn’t hesitate.

In the pitch black, I couldn’t see a thing but like I’ve seen in the horses many times before, ShoGun simultaneously thrust himself into a full fledged canter to race toward the lower pasture.  Sometimes its the upper pasture but never the wrong direction.  The direction of the where the other horses are grazing out in the night.  Sure enough, there trotting down to meet him were the other horses.  I couldn’t hear them.  I am pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear them.  He was already in flight.  Yet without hesitation he knew EXACTLY what pasture his mates were in.  He didn’t even whinny.  Neither did they.  Yet they knew he was home and he knew right where they were.

He isn’t the only horse we have that can telepathically know where their horse buddies are.  EVERY horse we have has this ability.  They instinctively know where the others are.

Coming home from a long day of farrier work and riding, we pulled down the hill toward the house.  It was a moonlit night and I could see the horses in the upper pasture before we even slowed down to make the turn into the drive. 

Aemelie, grazing contentedly raised her head and began to run toward the drive.

Kirk saw it too.  And we both said at the same time, “How did she know it was us?”

She reacted to come and greet us before the engine slowed, before we slowed, before anything.  I’d wouldn’t be exaggerating if I told you that at least 50 diesel trucks pass our house every day.  Some with trailers, some without.  Yet she knew it was us.

I’d say that she is greeting her mates but she never calls to them.  She nickers to us.  She comes to see me.  She doesn’t even acknowledge the other horses when we turn them out.  She walks right past them and plasters herself in my space.  She knows where we are.  I wish I could do the same.

Lately I’ve been experimenting.  With 100 acres of pasture its a hike to go get the horses when they are out to pasture.  I love that they have so much room to be horses but I don’t like the fact that I often have to walk out 2-3 times per day to catch horses.  It takes a lot of time.

So telepathically, I’ve been visualizing communication with Aemelie.

The other night I telepathically told her that I needed her to bring the herd down early in the morning.  We had to load up to ride and needed to leave early.

The horses usually come down from pasture around 7:30 a.m.  I needed them in at 5:00 a.m.

The next morning Aemelie and the rest of the herd were standing at the gate.  Looking toward the house.

This isn’t a cooincidence.

I telepathically called to Aemelie and watched as she galloped over the hill just a few minutes later.  It was mid-day.  They had already eaten and where out enjoying the pasture.  They never come in mid-day.

I had Kirk try it.

He had the same result.  Not once, but twice.

It’s just plainly paranormal.

You can’t see the communication.  You can’t hear it.  But you can feel it.

I intend on studying this further.


If luck has anything to do with it, the third time should be a charm, right?

This week I learned that once again I’ve been nominated to participate in the Extreme Mustang Makeover.   I will be one of 50 trainers chosen to compete.

Trainers will be given a wild mustang have a 100 days to train it.  June 13-15 we will all meet in Fort Collins, CO to compete.  The trained mustangs will then be made available for adoption.

Unlike the last two times, the competition is very near my front door.  This time the Makeover will take place in Fort Collins, CO.  Wild mustangs will be made available through the Canon City, CO holding facility.

How could I say no?

I was tempted to, believe me!  My last two attempts were anything less than ideal. 

Lucy was vetted out the day of the competition after she popped a splint on her left foreleg the night before in her practice ride. 

ShoGun and I never even made it out of the driveway.  The night before we were to leave Hurrican Ike battered Texas and the stable where we were to stay was evacuated.

But with this makeover happening right in my back yard, a tornado would be about the only thing that could keep me from the competition.  If it wasn’t right on top of me, I’d probably ride there if need be.

I pick up my new mustang for this challenge March 5th.

Last time I asked for a tall, stout gelding.

ShoGun was all that but he was really a tough candidate.  He was so insecure and spooky volatile that I lost a lot of training time to consoling and reassuring him so that we would both stay safe.

This time I am going to be verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy specific.

I don’t get to choose my horse, but I can ask the Universe for what I want and invoke my desires.

I need a nicely conformed, black or buckskin, stout gelding, 15.0 hh or taller, with good hooves, no physical issues (ShoGun had a baseball sized knot in his neck when I got him that took me two months to work out with the help of 2 chiropractors and a massage therapist), with an Omega personality with Alpha overtones, strong work ethic and easy to laid back personality.  He needs to be at least 4 years of age.  5 would be better.  I want him to be mature.  I also want him to have lots of mane and tail hair.  I would prefer that he be built like Mickey, Kirk’s horse and if he had a personality exactly like Mickey’s I would be as happy as a woman could be with her new horse.  I don’t want a mare. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I like mares.  But the public doesn’t.

I can’t keep this horse.  This horse will be adopted to the highest bidder.

I would like my horse to be gentle and kind in nature.  A noble steed that will appreciate the fact he’ll be guaranteed full meals, vet, dental and holistic care.

That would be a winning combination.

Of course, I love the challenge.  And this time all of the stars have lined up.

The last two times I drove 1500 miles one way to pick up my horses.

This time I will only have to drive 100.

The last two times I battled Maine weather.

This time I have an indoor, courtesy of our very kind neighbors, Dave and Katie Barton. 

Dave is a chiropractor for humans and horses, so if this horse does have any physical issues, I have no doubt we’ll be able to straighten him out with no problems.

With Kirk as the master farrier, again, I know he’ll be in top shape to compete.

Dave and Katie are also lending us the use of their beautiful facility for gentling and training this gelding (note my confidence).  We’ll have a full wash rack and he’ll have 4 star accomodations.

Needless to say, though I thought long and hard about undergoing the rigors of this competition again, I couldn’t really find a reason not to.

The benefits to this organization, The Mustang Heritage Foundation and the wild mustang are immense.  I love being a part of it.

Kirk is supportive and his brother Glenn will be here to help us with the farm chores.  That will be a welcome change since the last time we nearly killed ourselves to keep up with everything.

I’m excited.  Did I mention that?  Now all I need is a name for this new horse!

Up next….Naming Contest!


February 2nd, 2010 Big Black Hairy Spider

Yesterday was the culmination of a very frustrating experience.  From now one I am going to make a gift of a big, black hairy spider to inattentive owners. 

I am seeing regularly the necessity to help people pull their head out of their donkey (ass).

Naturally, that leads me to self assess….no pun intended…and try to figure out how I can handle a similar situation later to a better conclusion.

The details of this situation are going to repeat.

As a trainer and farrier, now I get to handle all manner of problems.  I’ve found that people tend to blame trainers just as much as they blame farriers.

Now, let’s get a scope here.  You have a horse and you have problems.

You have a talented trainer (enter me) and farrier (enter me) that agrees to help you.

Talented trainer says, I can fix this problem but I need a committment.

You say, “I commit.”  (You’ll forget that part later).

Trainer and farrier go to work and warn you that the process won’t be an overnight success. 

You say, that’s OK.  I understand.  Do your thing.  (You won’t remember saying that later).

Talented farrier addresses the horrendous and atrocious condition of your horses hooves first, warning…”Your horse that your never ride is going to be sore.  This will last a couple of weeks.”

Talented trainer explains why the horse will be sore.  In detail.  And tells you that regular visits with Talented farrier will be part of your committment.

You know you told the Talented trainer that you see your farrier frequently, but Talented farrier can see by your horses hooves that you are not telling a straight truth.  Talented farrier pushes for your committment.

You say, “I understand.  I don’t want my horse to be sore.  I want my horse to be healthy.”

Talented farrier says, “That’s good, because your horse is going to be sore before it gets better.”

Talented farrier explains why and what to expect, then finishes the trim. 

Talented farrier video tapes the hoof for future reference, making note that this is one of the worst hooves Talented farrier has seen in awhile.

Talented trainer, content with the matter, leaves instructions for you to call if you have any questions or concerns.  Talented trainer also tells you not to exercise the horse and to call for a boot fitting if the horse becomes unusually sore.

You look straight into Talented farriers eyes and promise to do so.  You acknowledge the instruction you’ve been given.

The next day you say, “I am going to use this horse.”  You do and find that the horse is sore.

You call the vet.  The vet isn’t familiar with natural hoof care.  They also aren’t farriers or trainers.

You then call all of your friends after the vet tells you that the quarters of your horse’s hooves are too short.

You forget that you’ve been told by talented farrier that relieving the quarters is the first step toward relieving excess pressure on the hoof wall and coronet band.

You tell all of your friends that the Talented farrier “butchered” your horse.

You then call your old farrier.  The one that screwed up the horse up in the first place and ask their opinion.

They of course tell you that the Talented farrier doesn’t have a clue about good hoof care.

Talented farrier, unaware of any of this because You haven’t called her to discuss your concerns, then calls you two weeks later to follow-up with you.

Remember, psychic, Talented farrier told you that your horse would be sore and in detail told you why and what to do.

Talented farrier listens as you give them a load of crap about the fact that you are a butcher.

Talented farrier listens, without interrupting.  Then reiterates why seperated laminae, flares, bruising, nails left in hoof walls by before mentioned farrier are all reasons for alarm and concern.

Talented farrier listens as you berate, alleging attrocities and blaming you for the horse being sore.

Talented farrier’s heart sinks because it becomes very clear what EXACTLY the horse’s problem is (and it isn’t rotten hooves or behavioral issues) and offers to give you and your friends a free hoof care clinic.

You scream at the Talented farrier that you would never consider such a thing.  You have twenty five years experience riding horses.

Talented farrier then feels the pain of your horse and offers to give you and your friends three free trims under the condition that you be present for each trim and observe the changes and listen to and explore the advice, links and education you will receive.

You scream that you will never allow Talented farrier on to your property, even if you are paid.

Talented farrier then replies that yhou obviously don’t understand that Talented farrier was the one who pointed out that your horse had contracted heels, an underdeveloped frog, flared walls, seperation of the laminae, an unmistakable prolapse of the coffin bone and physical ailments all related to the problems you’ve been having and totally reversible with knowledgeable hoof care.  And that these problems were inherited, not caused by Talented farrier.

You then accuse the Talented farrier of criticizing your beloved farrier.

Talented trainer replies that pointing out facts is not criticism.

You yell that previous farrier has never made your horse sore.

Talented farrier points out that soundness is a broad picture.  Horses with flares and long hoof walls don’t contact the ground with their frog, which is why they aren’t sore but also the reason why horses develope laminitis, navicular, founder and other lameness issues.

You tell Talented farrier that you would never allow talented farrier to touch your horse again.  You ignore the fact that Talented farrier found your horse in this condition and out of care and concern, tried to help you with it without calling you an idiot.

Talented farrier points out that if you aren’t knowledgeable enough to understand that flares, bruises, contracted heels and underdeveloped frogs are problematic before you contacted Talented farrier that you aren’t qualified to make judgement on the changes made by Talented farrier.

That makes you mad and you call the Talented farrier worthless, pushy, bitchy, and a few other choice R-rated names.

Talented farrier sighs knowing that this conversation is going nowhere.

You fire off emails to all of your friends and save the last bit of your angry strength to tell Talented farrier (that’s still me) that you are going to call the police if Talented farrier every emails, calls or tries to communicate with you ever again.

Talented farrier retires, sick to her stomach knowing there is another horse isuffering and  that she is now powerless to help.

Talented farrier wishes to be granted the patience to deal with stupid people and prays they would be bitten by a big black hairy spider the day after they pissed her off.  May they be bitten twice.

“I should have liked to draw the attention of the whole learned fraternity of blacksmiths, who mutilate horses, the world over.  The hoofs were as solid and as sound as ivory, without a crack or wrong growth of any sort.  It is noticeable that the equine race, in its wild state, has none of the ills of the species of domesticated.  The sorrows of horse flesh are the fruits of civilization.  By the study of the imitation of nature’s methods, we could greatly increas the usefulness of these valuable servants, and remove temptation from the path of many men who lead blameless lives, except in the single matter of horse-trades.” – W.E. Webb (1872)