Batter Up!

It’s time for a little pinch hitting.  With any luck, maybe some smelly old socks, Admiral will be stepping up to the plate.

Don’t worry, my baseball analogies stop right there.  That’s about all the baseball terminology I know anyway.  Well, except for short stop, but since stopping is a big no-no in eventing, I’ll be leaving that one out!  

Problem Numero Uno: Not a great pic, but her coffin bone
is a little more parallel to the ground then desired.  Yes, this
is what has been causing her back problems.  We think...

We had a very exhausting week last week.  I didn’t realize what a toll it had taken on me until I rudely turned my back to conversation Saturday and wrapped myself up in the comfort of learning.  Very long story short, Nutmeg spent two full days (instead of the scheduled two hours) at MU Vet clinic for a lameness exam.  It was a hide-and-seek adventure helped along by technology and an excellent staff.  Dr. Keegan used his Lameness Locator, ultrasound, radio graphs and a lot of expertise to diagnose and help us come up with a plan of attack.  Dr. Kemper, the intern on our case, was terrific and is going to make a superb vet.  Our vet student, Zack, isn’t headed into equine medicine, but he has a thirst for answers that fit perfectly with the puzzle we brought.


Problem Number 2: Fracture of the lateral wing on her right
front coffin bone.

Getting our Sensors Set-up.

 

The end result: Nutmeg will (fingers crossed) be back in work soon.  She’ll be getting some snazzy new pumps for her back feet and a little extra attention to her front feet as a fracture deep in her hoof heals.  But it will heal!  I’m ecstatic.  She’s grumpy because she had to stay home and Admiral got to go play.

 

 

Our new snazzy haircut.

Twice now, I’ve kidnapped Admiral from his self-induced semi-retirement and tossed him back into the real world and both times his has stepped up in a big way.  This weekend he got to accompany me in a dressage lesson.  He helped point out flaws in my approach to riding, patiently rewarding me when I did things correctly and quietly scolding me when I fell back into my old habits.  It was a really educational session and I am so thankful for the quality instruction and the opportunity to enjoy my boy again.

Nutmeg was such a good girl,
she eventually even won Zack
over with her charm.

He doesn’t know it yet, but Admiral will be doing a bit more stepping up in the coming weeks.  His entry for Longview was sent off today.  We’re going to play it super safe and do the Starter division, which is just two feet.  I want to make it a positive experience for him and I’m happy to eat a bit of humble pie if the leftover goo will help firm up our foundation.

Sometimes it takes getting kicked in the teeth and a big fat lip to teach you to open up those lips and smile.  Every life path has rough patches.   So, do you hideout in the dugout or step up to the plate hoping for a swing and a hit?  This week I gained a fresh perspective.  Sometimes, you just need to charge the pitcher’s mound.  Take control of the game, set the tone.  It certainly isn’t any easier out there, but if I wanted easy, I’d put a quarter in the purple pony at the super market.

The Right Tool at the Right Time

We spend our lives collecting tools.  Through trial and error we learn when, where and how to apply them.  

With Spring comes shedding season and this year, thankfully (we really need the moisture), mudding season.  Its Admiral’s favorite time of the year.  Admiral loves mud so much that he has systematically dug himself a pond in the turnout field.  Apparently he has more sense than the average suburbanite, because he put his pond at the bottom of the hill where it happily collects water and nearly always provides ample mud for his daily play time.  What does this have to do with tools?  Well, I learned long ago that Spring requires a separate set of grooming tools.  A soft brush is worthless when faced with caked on clay and flying fluff.  Admiral’s grooming tools this time of the year include a metal curry and the stiffest stiff brush they make.  Given enough time and energy, the job gets done.  Of course, my preferred tool is the garden hose, but the mud always seems to come before the warm weather.  While the curry comb takes way more time and energy, it is much better for his coat.

Thankfully, the long and laborious isn’t always the best answer.  This past weekend I helped my husband give his dream car a little TLC.  I should have taken before and after pictures because the three plus hour transformation was astounding.  We learned something too.  When waxing a car, use a sheepskin mit not a chamois.  I don’t know what the difference is, but when I was applying the wax and taking half of it off in the same time it took my husband to remove about a foot square of wax, he began to wonder if I’d given him the wrong tool for the job.  I thought he was just being a perfectionist.  Turns out, not so much.  The mit is truly the superior tool and it turned the back breaking project into an enjoyable afternoon.  The right tool makes a difference.

When waxing, Use This

Not This

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve been battling with Nutmeg’s stall kicking habit for some time now.  She does quite well over the winter, but as soon as the Spring Heat starts she becomes a mennis.  We’ve tried every trick in the book: moving her away from neighbors, giving her more hay then she can possibly eat, leaving her window to the outside world open, closing said window, feeding her supplements to lessen her “mare-ish” behavior, keeping her loins warm, even kicking chains.  Nothing seems to help.  When she feels the urge to kick down the wall, she does (or at least attempts), no matter the consequence.  Finally, after a particularly bad night, I took the final suggestion from a friend, “try a horse shock collar.” 

Before we go any further, let me clarify that the horses are outside 24/7 unless their safety could be compromised by bad weather, then they come inside.  I believe completely in maintaining the welfare of my animals and that is why I went to the shock collar.  Stall kicking isn’t just annoying; it’s detrimental to the horse’s legs.  It was time to fix the problem, and so far I’m pleased with the results.

The collar (or necklace as I’ve been referring to it) has an elastic insert for comfort and fit.  The remote has multiple levels of “reprimand” so you can adjust from the most sensitive to the thickest skinned horse.  Plus, it works through walls so I can sleep in my bed and with a touch of a button, remind Nutmeg that stall kicking is a bad idea.  There is the added bonus that she won’t associate the reprimand with me.    

Night one brought ample opportunities to test it out.  Normally when she kicks it is a barrage of kicking.  Bam-ba-bah-da-bam, bam.  With the necklace in place I was able to interrupt the rhythm and she only ever kicked once.  Plus, she left a healthy hour or so between kicking attempts.  I was satisfied.  Night two, she didn’t kick at all.  It might be a fluke.  We’ll see, but for now I’m optimistic that through quite a bit of trial and error and a bit of desperation, I may have found the right tool to stopping Nutmeg’s stall kicking vice.

And now for some further experimentation.  Nutmeg has been having some soundness issues.  We thought they were coming from her pelvis, but I’m beginning to think there is something more.  We’ve tried chiropractic adjustments.  We’ve tried joint supplements.  Now we’re in hunt of the cause instead of just addressing the symptoms.  Nutmeg gets to be a demo horse at University of Missouri.  We’ll be showing off their state-of-the-art Lameness Locator®.  I’m super excited about the experience.  Obviously, I’m not excited about the circumstances that have led to this opportunity, but I am excited to see some of the industry’s leaders at work, trying to pinpoint what has gone wrong and where.  With that information, hopefully we’ll be able to find the right tool and the right time to apply it.

Fingers crossed.  Our appointment is tomorrow.  Sometimes opening your mind to a different approach is all it takes.  So for today’s Fresh Perspective, “here’s to finding tools and learning to use them appropriately.”

Opportunity Found

“Indecision is a virus that can run through an army anddestroy its will to win or even to survive.”
- Wendell Mayes

I won’t lie. Fridayafternoon I was feeling pretty bummed. Sure, the sun was shining, it wasa gorgeous seventy something afternoon and I was off work. A weekend of horsing around loomed in frontof me, but I was near tears. Dear Nutmegwas not sound. It wasn’t her hips and Icouldn’t figure out why, but she was definitely “off” somewhere in that bigbody of hers.

What to do? I had awhole group of friends planning on traveling to Longview to school on Sunday andI really needed to take Nutmeg so I could check and see where we stood. Well, I guess we were standing on three legs,so “Plan B.”

I’m the Master of Plan B, Plan C, Plan XY&Z. Horses have a habit of training that intotheir humans, but I didn’t want Plan B. I wanted Plan A and I wanted it now. In other words, I was stomping my foot and having a right grand pityparty. I’d like to say it was shortlived, that I found solace in the fact that I was privileged enough to have aPlan B, but I didn’t. I tossed andturned and slept like a colicy baby worrying about Nutmeg’s mysterious newhitch.

Saturday was an equally glorious day. Thankfully my horse plans already involvedborrowing a mount for the Hunter Pace. Nothing like a two and a half hour stroll in the sunshine through beautifulcountry to cheer one. Good company andgood friends also help. I received someunexpected kind words of encouragement, yet I was still bummed about my prospectsfor Sunday. A part of me couldn’t giveup hope that Nutmeg would be sound as a dollar and I could return to Plan A.

Admiral says, "Take me with you!"

She made no miraculous recovery although I checked Saturdaynight and even Sunday morning before I loaded up the trailer. Not until Admiral was caught and thoroughly enjoyinghis warm bath did I commit to taking him instead. What prompted this dragging of my feet? Normally I’m thrilled to take the boy out for a romp. Sure, he’s out of shape and cross country isnot his favorite, but he still basks in the attention no matter what he’s beingasked to do. I couldn’t put my finger onmy reluctance until some serious soul searching prompted the thought of ParadiseLost. Riding Nutmeg cross country hasbecome my paradise and suddenly it was not only threatened, but lostcompletely, or so my brain wanted me to believe.

I used the drive to the city for some self-talk. There will be other cross country schoolings. There will be other events. There will be other seasons and as much as Imay not like thinking about it, there are other horses. It’s not like we were missing our only shotat Rolex. I was facing a day of sunshinewith my dear Admiral and many good friends. I might even get to ride the super pony (I did and she was super-muchthanks to her mom). Life really was goodand the sun really was going to shine whether I liked it or not.

All photos by Super Pony's Mom.

It did shine. It was awonderful day. Admiral was a goodboy. I tried not to task his brain orbody too much. We visited with greatfriends and learned a thing or two.

The Super Pony

InParadise Lost, John Milton wrote, “The mind is its own place, and in itself canmake a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…” Too true. So this week I’m tryingreally hard to find my own Fresh Perspective. Instead of Paradise Lost, Nutmeg taking some time off is really an OpportunityFound. An opportunity to put Admiralback to work. An opportunity to breakVaughn to drive (finally). Anopportunity to clean house, wash blankets, build fence, volunteer! So here’s to loosing paradise, at least forthe moment. Perhaps it will put all oflife in a bit better perspective.

Navigating the Straight and Narrow

Isn’t March supposed to be the calm before the storm of activity that April and May bring?  Perhaps more than Mother Nature is confused.  It’s been a rough month full of distractions.  The muck and mire may be trying their best to suck us down, but with Longview a little over a month away, we’re trying to find the straight and narrow.

Nutmeg’s long athletic body is finally showing it’s down side.  In all the snow and wet she’s been slip sliding around and shifting her pelvis out of place.  We are making great friends with our chiropractor and exploring some of the many, many options available to horse owners that want to supplement their athletic horse’s joints to protect them from wear and tear.

As we explore our options and weigh the pocketbook a little event called Longview keeps popping up.  Entries are open, but what to do?  Will we have it together in time to compete?  Should we drop down a level just to be safe?  Should I put the money set aside for the entry fee toward further investigation of Nutmeg’s new found love of the bunny hop?  I have very firm beliefs when it comes to putting the welfare of the horse first, unfortunately life is rarely found to be black and white.

These days I find myself pondering an image from my childhood.  It came from Pilgrim’s Progress when Christian was traveling through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  The graphic depiction showed Christian perilously navigating the thin, winding path with a sheer drop off on either side (side note: maybe this explains my fear of heights).  In the depths of the cavern all sorts of glowing evil things loomed waiting to gobble him up if he should take a false step.  My current tribulations certainly don’t compare in gravity, yet I find myself thinking that we’re at a turning point and these decisions really matter.

Normally I live much like I drive through snow.  I have a clear plan on where I’m going, I set my sights, and hit the gas.  There are moments when I’m jerked around a bit.  I slip, slide, veer and correct, but if I keep on the gas and keep my nose headed in the right direction, we make it there.  I guess its good we live in the middle of nowhere and have very little oncoming traffic as that complicates things a bit.   The point is, I thrive rolling with the punches and dealing with every little hic-up as it occurs.  Driving in a straight line is not my strong suit.  Finding the straight line under pressure is even more difficult, and if it’s buried under an even blanket of snow – forget about it!

Life would be much simpler if the direction was always clear.  Step off the path and you plummet to certain death.  For me anyway, that makes decision making quite a bit simpler.  So, do we keep pushing forward, chancing the footing on the slope of medication?  Do I take a stand, firmly holding that even the slightest indication of a problem, is a problem and life as we know it should halt in its tracks?  Or is there ground to walk on in the middle?  It may not be a Fresh Perspective, but it’s one that we face every day.  Black, white, or gray?  Which way is the best way? 

Prepare, Plan & Ride It Out

Prepare for the worst.  Plan for the best and ride what you have.  I think I’m going to paint this on the barn wall.

Kat did not approve of the weather.
Here she is waiting for it to change already.

It has been an interesting few weeks in Mid-Missouri.  The old saying, “If you don’t like the weather in Missouri, just wait five minutes” has made a resurgence and the folks that have been around a while have been taking trips down memory lane.  In the past several years our “snow storms” have dropped two to three inches, maybe six if we were really “hit hard.”  Well, this year we received eight to ten and then three days later it snowed again adding ten to fourteen inches.  After a day to breathe, it snowed another three.  What a winter wonderland!  Unfortunately, beauty comes with a price.  So…

Prepare:

Admiral prepares to be
my snow wheels.

Not much keeps me from my job, but in the spirit of preparation I gathered all important files onto a flash drive, printed out some forms and informed my boss that my dedication ended at leaving my horses without hay or water for a day.  I would make it home, or I wouldn’t leave in the first place.  He wasn’t pleased, but I assured him that with the trusty internet he’d hardly know I was missing.

I was prepared to work from the safety of home, but fickle Missouri has long since taught me that the worst predictions rarely come true and predicted fair weather can be hazardous.  So…

Plan:
I was planning for the best.  We’d get a little snow.  They would get the roads clear as quickly as possible.  I’d be in to work as always.  It would be a grand adventure but nothing out of the ordinary.  This realistic plan enabled me to think through my preparations with a clear head instead of a giddy school girl dither.  We didn’t go buy twenty gallons of water and a pallet of pork and beans.  We parked carefully, but we didn’t reserve a hotel room.  We were prepared, but planned to continue on with life as normal.  Then it started to snow and it didn’t stop. 


Vaughn thinks its deep enough.

So…

Ride It Out:

I didn’t go into work and they definitely knew I was gone.  Two hours into my work from homeattempt the power went out.  Thirty-eight and a half hours later we had used the tractor to drag my husband’s truck to the end of the driveway, hauled one to many buckets of manure through thigh deep snow, made and tipped over one gigantic snow man, and eaten every bit of snack food in the house.  It was boring, exciting, frustrating and peaceful.  We were torn between the anxiety of missing our work obligations and the comfort of having each other’s company.  There truly are no snow days as an adult.  The responsibilities are still there, you just can’t do anything about them.  So we made the best of it.

The horses thought is was great fun for about 15 minutes.
Then they were ready to be back inside.

And that’s life.  Our little snow storm gave us some great perspective.  You can’t control every aspect of your surroundings.  Prepare for the worst.  Make sure you have the skill sets and the equipment to deal with anything that could possibly come your way.  For a horse show, that means practice, practice, practice before you go.  Present many different questions in many different ways.  Pack carefully.  Take emergency equipment.  Pack an extra change of clothes and an extra days’ worth of food.  Then plan for the best.  There is no sense worrying over the future.  If you have prepared for the challenge, plan on rising to it successfully.  Be optimistic, you’ll have more fun that way.  Whatever happens, ride it out.  Sometimes the sun will shine and sometimes it will be thirty and raining.  Sometimes your horse will be a perfect gentleman and sometimes you’ll be sitting on a dragon.  All you can do is ride what you’ve got and smile!

A rare dragon moment caught by cell phone.

For everything there is a season…

     …And a time for every matter under heaven. 

-          Ecclesiastes

Rush, rush, rush.  Push, push, push.  If you are a part of a competitive sport.  If you work for a company. Really, if you are at all “connected” to today’s world, you feel the pressure of becoming the biggest and best you can be as soon as possible.  To what end?  Well, that’s a different discussion altogether.  For today, let’s talk about the journey.

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted.

You’ll hear two different lines during the winter months in the Midwest, either “Why can’t it be spring so I can get back to competing” or “thank goodness for the winter so I can get back to training.”  I won’t condemn either attitude.  In fact, I’ve been known to say both!  The point is, there is a time to put in the work and do the training and a time to reap the rewards.  When you are in show mode, more than likely your brain is thinking performance more than training.  The winter is a great time to think about training.

A time to break down, and a time to build up.

With that in mind, winter is also a great time to really get back to the basics.  If during the competition season you ran across a piece that was missing from the puzzle or a block missing from your foundation, now is the time to fix it.  If you gave your horse a true vacation after the last competition of the season, starting back to work is the perfect time to check all the basics.  You can use the dressage training pyramid for a guideline.  As a rider, do I understand my position and how it affects the horse?  Do I know what suppleness feels like?  How is my balance, coordination, relaxation and poise?  Will my horse work in a steady rhythm?  Is he relaxed?  Can we communicate freely?  Are we straight?  Can my horse carry himself for one stride, two, three?  If you find a place where either of you are lacking, now is the time to break the problem down and figure out why.  Then you can build back up with all the pieces in place.

A time for war, and a time for peace.

There are multiple camps on how to best train a horse and everyone has an opinion.  Some want to dominate.  Some want to caudal.  I find that somewhere in between works well for me.  There is a time when the horse must listen and must submit and they probably won’t like it.  But there are times when the battle can be avoided if the approach is tweaked a bit.  We also have to keep our emotions in mind.  There is a time when we can safely and effectively tackle a problem and there are times when it’s best to put it off for a different day.

A time to keep, and a time to throw away.

Winter season means Spring Cleaning is right around the corner.  For horse people, that means blanket cleaning!  I have to give props to the blanket manufactures.  They really have done a great job making blankets durable, but there comes a time when it’s time to toss or recycle.  There are many charities that love to get used horse blankets, from animal shelters to elephant rescues.  You can also recycle them yourself by removing any usable straps and hardware.  This is a great time of year to also go through your tack and miscellaneous horse items.  Seems horse people have quite the knack for collecting.  May Hoarders never come to my barn!  Remember that leather which isn’t in use needs to be taken care of or you run the risk of dry rot.    

A time to weep, and a time to laugh.

Horses certainly give us plenty of both!  If you trip up at the second to last fence, you can weep for the victory you may have lost or you can laugh, because that’s life with horses and at least you are still both safe and sound.  I would say there is certainly more to laugh over, but if you live with horses long enough, the times to weep will come.  Why then weep needlessly when you can laugh?

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.

It’s a classic in the horse world.  You just galloped around a cross-country course foot perfect.  As you land from the final fence you drop your reins and start patting your horse.  You are thrilled!  Then he trips, you tumble over his ears and the finish line is still twenty feet in front of you.  There are so many things to celebrate, staying in the dressage ring, safe cross country, clear show jumping, a good finish.  Don’t celebrate too soon or too hard.  Remember you still have a job to do.

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak.

Discernment is the ability to judge well.  It doesn’t mean that you judge everyone around you constantly and you certainly shouldn’t go around spouting your “knowledge.”  There is a high likelihood that your peers are paying a professional for their help.  You might to agree, but use a little discernment.  Unless something is truly dangerous, it’s probably a good idea to keep your mouth shut.

A time to mourn, and a time to dance.

I mentioned earlier that horses will give us our share of heartache.  So will life.  Horses get hurt, people die.  Life changes.  That’s life and it’s okay to mourn.  There’s nothing quite like crying into your horse’s mane.  Mourning, however, looks to the past.  Don’t forget that the future is the only thing you can change.  Get back on your horse and dance, live, enjoy the present.

For everything there is a season… We might not like the season we are in, but there is a reason for it.  Look for the reason.  Find the purpose.  Give this season of your life a Fresh Perspective.

Rainey Reflections

It’s raining in January.  Actually, it’s pouring with added thunder, lightning and a tornado watch.  I love this part of the country.  The saying is true; if you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes.  It does present some challenges though.

In the past week, I’ve celebrated having twenty minutes of twilight when I get home from work, 60+ degree afternoons, and I’ll get to make snow angels tonight.  Nutmeg, Admiral and Vaughn have worn every piece of clothing they own, except for their tack, and have covered their entire bodies in a combination of mud, clay, manure and straw.  Nutmeg of course added a little blood to the mix for a colorful flair.  It’s always a challenge to stay enthused about our equines during a typical Midwest winter.  Here is how I cope:

I’ve been doing a lot of reading.  It seems to be the only activity that satiates my equine craving when the ground is so frozen the horse apples turn to hockey pucks in five minutes.  Although I’m not sure reading is any easier on the pocket book then showing, the lessons seem to come a bit cheaper.  How cool is it there are books about everything!  Anatomy, philosophy, schooling exercises, physiology, grooming tips (for some reason these books remain my favorite).  Some are very, very old.  I gave up on ever owning a copy of Le Maneige Royal when I saw its $235 price tag.  Yes, education isn’t cheap but goodness! 

But I digress…if you have a thirst for knowledge you can find someone who has trampled all over the subject in a book at some point in history.  It’s really quite incredible how as humans we feel the need to hash and rehash an idea so many times.  I can’t point fingers since most of what I write is just an idea someone or something else sparked in my brain, but think about it for a moment.  As far as we know, we’re the only species that can “learn” by some method other than direct experience.

Believe me, I have tried sitting and reading Nutmeg classical dressage books and heaven knows I’ve done everything short of feeding Admiral books about being a bold cross country horse, but until I put my butt to the saddle and give them the actual experience needed, they aren’t going to get any better.

Are we really so different?  Does all the time we spend reading actually make us any better?  How can we access our skills until we put what we’ve learned into practice?  We may feel smarter and more enlightened, but until we actually do it, have we really learned it?  For example, I’ve read about haunches-in hundreds of times.  I’ve studied pictures and watched videos, but my many failed attempts suggest that I don’t really know it.  Earlier this month, Nutmeg and I were lucky enough to receive some very patient instruction in lateral work, culminating in haunches-in.  We both learned a lot, but I still wouldn’t say that I know it.  I have a greater understanding and a greater appreciation and when we finally do it, I believe I will know the moment, but until then I can’t say that my reading has improved my riding.  It simply improves my recognition of the real thing when it appears.

My Fresh Perspective on this rainy and reflective day is that all the learning we do isn’t for knowing it is for recognizing.  Only when we recognize something can we begin to know it.  The application goes far beyond horses and riding.  If you’re lucky enough, saddle up and start the journey.  I’m going to go read another book, so I’ll know when I get there.