New Hay Supplier

Below is a post I wrote before Bombay's trailer accident. I'm going to take leave from blogging for a short while. I was already so overwhelmed with my job and school, and now that I'm caretaker for an injured horse and a sick dog, I just don't have anymore time to spare. Because dealing with Bombay took an entire day out of my weekend, I fell behind on my homework, my house cleaning, my errands and chores, so I'm starting off the work week on a bad foot... just like Bombay.

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I've been the customer of one of my valley's oldest, most well known, most politically active hay farmers for over 10 years now, but he keeps raising his prices. A block, or 76 bales of hay, costs nearly $1,200! He's charging $15 a bale plus delivery costs. To make matters worse, every time he comes by to deliver a block, he insults me in one way or another. I'm tired of the abuse.

I saw an ad in which someone was selling grass/alfalfa mix for $7 a bale or $8 a bale if delivered. I called the number and found out it was last year's hay and only 40% alfalfa with 60% grass. I usually prefer 50/50, but beggars can't be choosers. I asked if they deliver an entire block with a harrow, but all they had was a flatbed truck that could carry 40 bales at a time. I decided to try 40 bales, and if they worked out, I'd keep doing business with the outfit.

It turns out that their bales are smaller than the more expensive bales I've bought in the past, however the hay does look good. They've kept it in storage, so it's not bleached. They have a money back guarantee for moldy bales and bales with weeds. The hay farmer asked me whose hay I have been using. I told him and said, "It's getting a bit too expensive for me."

He and his wife laughed and he said, "He's pricing himself out of the market."

I know a lot of his old customers are jumping ship and going with other farmers. The shorter bleached stack is from my old hay farmer and the taller green stack is from the new hay farmer.

I was hoping this batch would last to the second cutting, so I could get some of this year's hay, but he said he always sells last year's hay. He cuts hay for his own cows and saves whatever is left over to sell. That was a bit disappointing, but selling hay is not really his main business. He just shares with the public at a lower price when he can.

What was really funny was that his two dogs sat on top of the hay in the back of the truck. I have no idea how they got up there that high. They must have jumped out of a hayloft onto the stack. They were very well behaved and moved out of the way each time he had to move another bale. He and his wife pulled each bale off the truck and stacked it on my pallets for me, which made it well worth the extra $40 for the delivery. I really don't feel like pulling a muscle in my back, so delivery is very important to me. My husband and son are strong, but they both have hay allergies, so I hate to drag them into stacking hay. They get stabbed in the arms by sticks and end up itching and sneezing for days afterward.

Another thing I really appreciated was that this new hay farmer was in and out in 10 minutes. My old hay farmer was a talker and could easily suck up hours of our time. Both my husband and I dreaded his visits. He's one of these people who you can say, "I've got to go. I've got something in the oven..." or whatever, and he'll just keep on talking like he never heard you.

I was about to ride Gabbrielle when I got the phone call that the hay was being delivered. I didn't want to have to worry about the truck showing up while I was riding, so I cleaned water troughs instead. It's a good thing, because I found two drowned sparrows in two water troughs. I also cleaned the winter blankets, so that they will be ready to wear when the first snowstorm hits... God forbid.

Oh yeah, and I also made it out to the feed store to pick up some horse and dog items and posted an ad for trail riding buddies while I was at it. We'll see if anything good comes out of it, but in the meantime, I'm plenty content riding the trails alone.

Bombay Update

Bombay is on stall rest for a while. When the vet cut off my wrappings and all the blood had been soaked up by the padding, we could see that these were not deep cuts, but were actually burns. There was so much skin missing that it was gruesome, but structurally he was sound. He was standing on three legs, because the burn on his hind leg was especially painful for him The vet said he probably burned them on the rubber padding in the trailer, which is supposed to offer protection, but can actually cause more problems.

I discussed the possibility of a neurological problem suddenly causing him to not be able to keep his balance in the trailer, and he dismissed the idea because Bombay doesn't show any signs of being off balance just walking around the paddock or when I ride him. He thinks it's more likely that Bombay slipped once, and now has a phobia that causes him to panic and hurt himself. He thought removing the center divider and not using the trailer tie to keep his head up was worth a try. If he doesn't feel restricted within the trailer, he may not panic so much.

The vet said Bombay is a very lucky boy, and then he proceeded to spend two hours cleaning and wrapping the legs and loading me up with medications to give him. He's got burn ointment, pain killers, antibiotics, and more dressings needed in the future. The good news is that he should be healed physically in about two weeks. Mentally is a different story. I'm going to have to start over with his trailer training to help him past his fears.

He actually managed to rub the top of his hoof wall off the hind hoof. The vet had to cut it away. There was a hole between the top of the hoof and the skin. There was nothing to stitch up since such large patches of skin were gone. He thinks the skin should grow back without proud flesh.

The vet was having a hard week. He's the hospital intern and has to work 7 days a week. He said he's had so many emergency calls this weekend that he's only had 2 hours of sleep and that wasn't even on purpose. He had gone home to take a shower, but fell asleep before he could, then was woken by another emergency and never got his shower.

While we were talking, a caravan of trucks and cars came racing up the street and Bombay popped his head up out of his sedated stupor. Lostine and Gabbrielle spooked and took off in one of their stampedes. Of course it had to be my annoying neighbors' visitors. My annoying neighbors weren't even home, and all these people just started running around the property loading junk into their trucks and jeeps. Kids started climbing my fence to watch the vet work on my horse. Crashing noises commenced as heavy objects were hurled onto the backs of vehicles. I wanted to scream, "WHY NOW? Couldn't you come back some other time to do this?"

I said to my husband, "Keep an eye on them. I don't want them doing anything asinine that will get this horse anymore revved up. He's already had three sedatives and I don't want to have to pay for more because of those jerks!"

The vet apologized and said he wouldn't charge me for one of the shots. Fortunately, the people left just as quickly as they came, so our peace was restored, Bombay went back to sleep, and the vet could finish wrapping his leg. The vet said, "Don't you just love neighbors?"

I said, "Yeah, my dream is to move onto about 50 acres with a house right in the middle of it so that I don't have to ever deal with neighbors again."

It turned out that he grew up in that kind of a situation. He lived in a house in the middle of 20 acres and suffered shell shock when he had to move into an apartment in the city to attend college. He guaranteed I would find some land and peace in Pennsylvania, but warned me that the economy is depressed, so we shouldn't expect to find jobs.

Excuse Bombay's fifth leg. He had a lot of sedatives, so he was hanging. You can see here how he favors that hing leg. I've just got to keep him comfortable for the next few weeks, and then start working on that phobia so that nothing like this can happen again.

Gabbrielle is really disturbed about Bombay being in pain. She stood at the fence and watched during the entire two hour procedure, save when the idiots raced up the street and started their racket. Then when I put Bombay in his stall, she picked a piece of hay up off the ground, carried it over to Bombay in her teeth, and passed it to him so he would have something to eat. How sweet is that? She did it several times like a mama bird feeding her baby bird. Then they started kissing.

I was suffering from heat exhaustion, passed out in a chair in the shade while the vet added up my bill (which equaled to the penny the exact same amount I paid yesterday for a stack of hay), and I was too tired to get up and grab a video camera while all the mouth-to-mouth-feeding and kissing was going on. Don't hate me for it. It was one of those things that was meant to enjoy, and you know that if I made the effort to get a video camera to share it with you, they would have stopped. I didn't even say anything to the vet out of fear that my voice would disturb the horses and pull their attention away from what they were doing. It was really cute until Gabbrielle turned around, spread her legs, lifted her tail, and let loose the Pacific Ocean in front of Bombay's stall window. Now the poor guy has got to smell that during his incarceration.

Mystery Accident

After having such a wonderful day on Saturday, Sunday followed it up with a nightmare. I may have to retire Bombay to pasture for the rest of the summer. Bombay's wound caused by kicking himself while falling in the trailer two weeks ago was healed, so got him ready to go for a trail ride, but this time I put on an extra pair of boots to avoid injuries from him kicking himself in the trailer. He was tied to a post and I went into the house for a minute to get my purse and the keys to my truck. When I walked out, I could see him struggling. Somehow he got the lead rope wrapped around a gate bolt and also got it stuck under his Old Mac boot. When he raised his head, he lifted his leg and when he put his leg down and pulled his head down.

I said "Whoa" and hurried over to get him untangled, but he reared up right next to my truck. I thought he was going to come down on my truck, but he turned and came down on the gate, cutting himself under the chin. It was just a superficial wound, mostly just a matter of being bruised and having hair ripped out, so I decided to go ahead with the trail ride. I drove exceptionally slow. I stayed 10 mph under the speed limit on every road, I started slowing way ahead of time when approaching stops and turns, and every turn was made at a snail's pace as smoothly as possible.

I had drivers weaving back and forth behind me trying to get me to go faster and I just had to ignore them. When we got to the trail head I was shocked to see that Bombay was all out of breath and had more cuts all over his face, especially around his eye. Again, they were superficial, but I couldn't figure out what the heck he was cutting himself on.

Then I looked down and saw blood all over his left hind leg. Dang it! What is wrong with this horse? He's been riding in horse trailers for 12 years. Why would he suddenly not be able to stand up in a trailer?

I immediately turned around and headed back home. I could have made a right and been at the veterinary clinic in a couple of minutes, but I knew they were closed. I decided to take Bombay home and see how deep the cut on his leg was before calling the vet. When I got him out of the trailer, I discovered blood on all four legs, one hock, and his hip.

I hosed him down and fortunately the majority of the blood was transfer. Only two of his legs were injured, his hock and his hip. His front leg bled so much that it filled his Old Mac boot with blood. That one clearly needed stitches. The back leg was skinned over a very large area. In fact, I found skin, fur and blood on his hind boots. He was holding up the hind hoof because it caused him the most pain, so I was worried he may have damaged a muscle or bone.

I called the vet hospital and got a busy signal. I cleaned and wrapped his wounds the best I could, but was running out of first aid supplies. I called the vet again and was forwarded to an answering service that keep me on hold for 15 minutes. They hooked me up with the on call vet, who was in his truck headed to another emergency in the next city. I described the injuries and my suspicions. He said he'd call me as soon as he's done with the other emergency. That was hours ago.

Bombay can walk, so I'm sure his injuries will heal, but I'm more concerned about why after 12 years he suddenly can't keep his balance in a horse trailer. He hits his head a lot on his stall window frame, which is metal, and I'm wondering if he might have neurological damage.

After I cleaned all the bloody boots, I cleaned out the trailer and found blood in the strangest places. All I can figure out is that he must have flipped all the way over on his back and was kicking the walls up near the ceiling. But when I stopped, he was upright and his quick release trailer tie was still attached to his halter. If he really fell all the way to the ground, I'm sure he tweaked his neck and back good having his halter attached to a very short trailer tie at the height of the window. I'm starting to think that if I ever trailer him again, I will have to remove the center divider and not tie him to anything. I don't know if having him tied helped or hurt the situation.

At any rate, I've got an inured horse and I'm sure I'll be looking at a mean vet bill soon, so I'm not risking taking Bombay in a trailer anywhere ever again until we get down to the bottom of this and figure out why he can't keep his balance. My biggest fear is that the vet will tell me to bring him into the clinic on Monday for x-rays. I'm sure we won't make it in the trailer without more injuries. Anyway, I'll let you know what the vet says if he ever gets here. Isn't it sad that you can clean up your horse, your equipment, and write an entire blog post in the time that it takes a vet to reach you on an emergency call?

Best Trail Ride Yet

Lostine and I had our best trail ride yet. Not a single sign tucked between trees spooked her.

She walked all the way to the river. Or maybe I should say she balked all the way to the river remembering the people in the bushes who were throwing rocks into it last weekend. I wasn't in any hurry, so I just let her stop, look around, think about getting up her courage, and then I'd encourage her forward.

She surprised me by climbing right down the bank into the trees and up to the edge of the river.

I think she was thirsty, but she didn't drink nor cross. We just spent some time enjoying the shade and the sound of the babbling brook. We didn't pass many people on the trails. I think there were more dogs than people: I saw a Corgi (my favorite), a yellow Lab, three black Labs, and two Golden Retrievers. People kept pulling into the parking lot, opening up their tailgates, and dogs came bounding out to run straight up the mountain paying no attention to my horse. Come ride along with us...

She comes to sudden stops when she sees, smells or hears something further along the trail. She wants to figure out what it is before moving any closer.

From what I hear from her previous owner, Lostine was attacked by a dog once. I think she does really well around them considering. She attracted a lot of butterflies and few squirrels and lizards along the trail. I keep hoping to see bunnies.

I saw my favorite trail rider again. He always seems to be finishing up his ride right when I'm starting mine. I remembered the model name of my Tucker saddle this time, so I told him it is the High Plains model. I think he wants to get one for himself. Here's how much room I've got in front of me. The horn bag doesn't rub against my legs.

It's hard to tell from this picture, but there were some pretty orange flowers off to the side of the trail...

Lostine balked at the same spot she did last week where she thought the logs were snakes. I filmed it to show you how much work it takes to move her forward past scary objects.

Once we got past that point we found a grave site on the side of the trail.

A close up still shot to make up for all the shaking in the video...

While traveling down a very narrow trail, a group of about 20 people came hiking up toward us. They appeared to be a church group as they were talking about Jesus. Some of the hikers were really struggling. They had canes and looked to be in their 70's or 80's. They were so tired that they couldn't move off the trail to let me pass, so I just parked Lostine off to the side while they talked about getting bugs in their mouths and finding Jesus in the trees. People were telling me how beautiful, sweet, and well behaved Lostine is. I was proud to tell them she's an Arabian. One lady said that Arabian horses are her favorites. Once they regained their strength, they moved past and Lostine and I were able to get back on the trail.

The white dot at the end of the trail is our horse trailer...

I expected Lostine to pick up the pace once she saw it, but she actually began dawdling. When I dismounted to lead her through the paved parking lot, she kept trying to turn around and go back up the trail. I guess she really enjoyed her outing and wasn't ready to leave for home.

I was tempted to turn around and go right back up, but I knew she needed water and it was close to lunch time for all my horses.

When we got home I discovered some damage to her hind splint boots...

That buckle isn't going to hold any longer, so I need to either sew on some new material or buy some new size medium splint boots. They are really for Bombay's front legs, but they just happen to fit Lostine's back legs. Bombay wears size M in the front and size L in the back. Lostine wears size S in the front and size M in the back. Gabbrielle wears nothing but small all around.

A while ago my husband picked up one of those combination locks and assembled a cable for me so that I could keep my other saddles locked up while I'm out riding. My saddle rack is in the back of my horse trailer. Anyway, we were both so surprised to discover that the combination that came with the lock just happened to be something really easy to memorize. Two of the numbers correspond with my birthday! How lucky is that?

Now don't ask me when my birthday is. Actually, even if you knew my birth date, you wouldn't be able to figure out the last number. That's the only one I have to memorize.

Foxtails and Dogs

From time to time you'll hear me talk about foxtails. These are the most prevalent weed in our area and they can do serious damage to pets. A dog can step on one of these and get it wedged in the pad of its paw. Within a few more steps, the barbs can work their way under the skin. Next thing you know, these little burrs are traveling through your dog's internal organs. They can pierce the heart. My vet told me he treated one dog that had a foxtail working its way out of the dog's eyeball. It had gone in the paw and traveled all the way up to the dog's eye.

Anytime I see newcomers walking their dogs down the shoulder of the road in the foxtails, I stop them to educate them on the matter. You can't just walk a dog around here like people do on the sidewalks of cities and suburbs. It amazes me how many times I see someone walking a dog that is limping, and the dog walker doesn't even stop to inspect the dog's paws. We keep our dogs on our lawns, but occasionally they might sneak out and get into the foxtails on the driveway or the RV lane. The first thing we do is turn the dogs over on their backs and inspect their paws and fur. You have to remove foxtails as quickly as possible.

Sorry that the photo isn't more focused. I thought I'd just step outside before work and take a few pictures really quick, but the sky opened up and dumped a bunch of rain on me and my camera, so I had to snap the photo fast and run in the house.

This has been the worst year for us regarding the growth of foxtails. In years past, I've sprayed with poison every weekend and still couldn't prevent them from growing. However, there were actually places we could walk without stepping in them. This year there is no place where I can walk on our RV lane without getting them stuck in my socks and shoes. So, my morning routine involves feeding the horses, and then coming inside and plucking foxtails off me over a trash can. They are even sprouting up through the places where we dumped the piles of D.G. in an effort to smother them.

This year I didn't get a chance to spray any poison at all between the long winter and my work schedule. Next year I'll have to be more aggressive.

Three Down, Infinity To Go

This time of year things get crazy in my community. Between all the city dwellers who keep moving here, the kids being out of school and all the tourists visiting, the highways get crowded, the trespassers get more frequent and persistent, and the crime rate skyrockets. The other morning I woke up to the sound of car alarms going off all over the neighborhood at 6:00 AM followed by police sirens. I thought, "Oh, our local gang of teenage boys is up early this morning."

Their specialty is breaking into vehicles and stealing stuff out of them. They started out just quietly stealing stuff out of unlocked vehicles in the street, then started making their way up driveways and into garages to get the loot. Now they are just smashing in windows and kicking out a few headlights and taillights while they're at it, because apparently they have no morals, no guilt, and get their jollies making other people's lives miserable.

That's why you should keep your kids busy, folks. Get them involved in sports and clubs and hobbies. Keep them so devoted to being the best they can be at something like swimming or barrel racing or baseball or wrestling that they won't even have time to strut around the neighborhood destroying property. Consider it an investment in the safety of your community.

I stopped at a store I've shopped at for years and felt like I was in a foreign country -- several of them, actually. There were women talking loudly into cell phones in various foreign languages, several more women yelling at their kids in different foreign languages. I was standing there mystified, wondering, "Who are these people and where did they come from? How did they find my community and decide to move here?"

It wasn't so long ago that everyone in this town was related to just a handful of families, and most were farming families. Everyone knew each other by face and/or name. We knew who drove what vehicles. Now our town has been overtaken by strangers who don't even speak our language. I used to be able to just walk into the bank and right up to the teller. I was in and out in one minute. Now you have to wait in line everywhere you go. Dozens of people are waiting to open bank accounts, because they just moved here. I don't know how they can even afford to live here, because there aren't any jobs. Nevada has the highest unemployment rate in the nation at the moment, so it seems like a strange place for so many people to choose as their new home. They must just bring a whole bag of loot with them from their country and have enough of it to live here without a job.

It appears that we have thwarted three of our neighborhood nuisances recently. (Knock on wood.) Our street sign vandal gave up after my son Super Glued the sign and bent the bolt that keeps it attached to the post. Also, I got so sick of walking outside at 6:00 AM to feed the horses and finding that kid my neighbor babysits running around the neighborhood screaming that I yelled over to my neighbor, "IT'S TOO EARLY FOR THIS!"

She must have got my meaning, because now she is driving the kid out of the neighborhood to keep him entertained. Apparently, the kid's dad works 12-hour shifts, because he drops him off just before 6:00 AM and picks him up around 7:30 PM. Sunrise to sunset -- just the time I need to be able to ride my horses. Most daycares are set up to support parents who work 8 hour days, so I'm sure this man doesn't have many options for who to leave his child with during the day while he works.

Lastly, I appear to have solved one of the dog barking problems. You see, this couple moved in to my neighbor's guest house over a month ago. They live there from the last snowfall to the first snowfall of the year. Though we got way too much snow this past winter, I have to admit that I do like it when it starts snowing early in the fall, because then these neighbors beat it out of town to go wherever the sun is still shining.

Anyway, the man is the one who I keep catching looking in my bathroom window when I'm getting in and out of the shower naked. He figures out what time I take my shower, and then he backs his truck down so that it's next to my window and he starts loading and unloading stuff from his truck while looking in my window, so I have to remember to shut the frosted window every time I'm in the bathroom now.

Last night my dog woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep. I went into the bathroom, keeping the lights off so I could keep the window open, because it was very hot. My dog was sleeping under the window and I bent down to pet her. Right then there was a distinct noise outside and my dog jumped up and growled repeatedly at the window. I looked outside, didn't see anyone, but could clearly hear pant legs rubbing against each other as someone quickly walked away. I ran around to the back door and let the dogs out. They ran at the neighbor's fence, so the person outside my window wasn't on my property, but in my neighbor's backyard at 3:30 in the morning. I'm pretty sure it was the man who is living in the guest house since he seems to gravitate toward my bathroom window. I told my husband and he said, "Maybe he was out having a smoke." I just don't understand why this guy has to hang out by my bathroom when he's got over an acre of property to stand around on.

Both the man and the woman are a nuisance because they park their vehicles right up against the chain-link fence of my dog run, and they come and go every 15-minutes as early as 5:00 AM. This causes my dogs to go into barking fits, because these people are loitering around my fence and dogs are territorial.

My Sheltie Monty is very old now. I don't expect him to make it through the heat of this summer. We're trying to keep him cool by helping him shed and keeping a floor fan blowing on him where he's indoors, but he can't control his bowels anymore, so we have to keep him outside most of the time. There was one day in which I found a trail of dog diarrhea running from one end of the house all the way to the other end on a morning I had to drive in to work. I couldn't believe he even had room in his bowels for all of that. I didn't have time to clean it all up, which allowed some of it to set in the carpet, and it took literally weeks of applying stain removers and scrubbing to get the stains out. Even mopping it off the tile floor was a struggle. I don't have that kind of time to spare, and it's actually cooler outside, so we mostly leave the dog outside.

Anyway, with these people coming and going just inches from our dog run all day long, there's a lot of barking. Monty is deaf and partially blind, yet these people are so close to him that he can sense them. If they'd just give him his space, he'd be quiet and everyone in the neighborhood would appreciate it. I get frustrated when the barking starts up when I'm in the shower or on a phone conference, because there's nothing I can do to stop it. The dog can't hear me yelling, "QUIET!" anymore. I have to physically get up, go outside, pick all 65 pounds of him up, and carry him inside the house.

So, the other morning I was running around the house doing a dozen tasks at once. I didn't have time for one more problem to solve, and sure enough, the lady came out of her house and started diddling around in her car by my dog run fence. Monty started barking at her, and she just kept on diddling, oblivious to the racket she triggered by upsetting my dog. I kept thinking, "She'll get in her car and leave soon, and then peace will be restored," but she wouldn't leave. She just kept loitering by my fence.

I dropped everything I was doing, marched outside, and started yelling at my dog, " BE QUIET! I AM TRYING TO WORK AND OTHER PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! HOW CAN I TALK ON THE PHONE WITH ALL THIS NOISE? GET IN THE HOUSE NOW!"

Of course, the dog couldn't hear me, but the woman could. I made a point of slamming my door loudly to clearly communicate my anger over these constant disruptions. The woman looked at me dumbfounded, so I knew I got her attention. Now they are parking their vehicles on the opposite end of the property where they can come and go all they please without my dogs noticing. Peace has been restored in that case.

I haven't turned in the complaint forms to the County Planning Department, because all three construction workers seem to have gone into hibernation. I haven't heard a peep out of any of them this past week. Even though their noise pollution has been driving me crazy for years, it wouldn't make sense to file a complaint now that they have finally settled down. I really don't want to ruin anyone's life, so I hope it stays this way.

I do search real estate listings at least once a week to look for horse properties, but they are few and far between. The local real estate agencies may as well start a new category and call it ATV / motorcycle properties, because every time newcomers buy horse property in our area, they just tear down the barns and corrals and make motocross tracks. I know we have to get completely out of this part of Nevada, but my husband's job is here and I promised my son we wouldn't move until after he graduates from high school.

I was hoping for some relief by moving to a quieter, more isolated home in our area for the time being, but all we can afford is a mobile home with no horse facilities, and you have to be careful about buying homes on private wells, because many of them cannot be dug deep enough to tap into the water. At least where we are, I know we are in the perfect location for water. We are very close to a river, but two plateaus up, so that we don't have to worry about flooding. I'm just going to have to be patient and tackle one annoying neighbor at a time.

Pasture-izing

Some More Final Destination Moments

I haven't posted over the past few days because I nearly got killed twice on Sunday within a few hours of each incident, so I'm having another one of those Final Destination periods in my biorhythm. I've learned to lay low when things get like this.

First near miss: My son and I wanted to take his father out for a nice, sit down Father's Day breakfast in a family restaurant, however every restaurant in town had people lined up outside and a full parking lot. So, we kept driving all the way up to the next city, which was more of the same. The only restaurant we could get into was a casino buffet where we had to serve ourselves that charged $22.95 per person for cold scrambled eggs and hard biscuits. Plus by the time we got there, it was nearly lunch, so they were putting away the majority of breakfast items.

On the way home we got stuck in heavy traffic in a 65 mph zone. This very rude woman was trying to get ahead by squeezing into tight spots, cutting off other drivers, and tailgating so close that I was sure she must have scraped a few bumpers along the way. She was driving so erratically that we actually noticed her while she was driving a ways behind us. Sure enough, she tried to squeeze in between us and the car in front of us, and my husband honked to tell her there was no room.

She got pissed and came over anyway, pushing us off onto the fast lane shoulder of the highway. We merged back in behind her and my husband kept honking at her. She shook her finger at us as if it were our fault, and then, at a high speed, she slammed on her brakes to intentionally force us to rear-end her in our Cadillac. I'm sure she was planning on feigning injury and suing us "rich" folks for everything we got.

Fortunately, my husband is a skillful driver and was able to avoid the accident, but my heart rate got so out of control that I wouldn't be surprised if I suffered a mild heart attack during the whole incident. I already had a phobia of being in cars, but now it is much worse after this incident. I had to take an anti-anxiety pill just to be able to drive to work this week.

Of course, this was another incident where we were a victim of a crime and were so shocked by it that we didn't get a color or make of the car, none-the-less a license plate number, because the lady took off like a bat out of hell weaving in and out of traffic once she realized her complete disregard for human life didn't work out for her financially. She could have taken out the majority of my gene pool in that one selfish move.

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Second near miss: I tried to calm my nerves from the road rage incident by taking the horses out to pasture and watching them graze. (They made a bee-line for the clover and ripped it up by the roots, by the way. Apparently, horses love that stuff. I don't think any of it was Alsike Clover, and even if some of it were, there wasn't enough to cause slobbers or photo-sensitivity. The horses are fine after eating it.)

After a couple of hours we brought them back in from the pasture to the sandy paddock. We had just removed all of their halters, my husband was standing at the gate, my son was balancing on a food trough by the gate, all three horses were milling about by the gate, and I was walking up toward them to squeeze through them to get out the gate. I noticed that Gabbrielle was interested in why my son was taller than usual. She had her neck and tail arched and was reaching out to sniff him when he jumped toward her off the food trough.

My horses are very friendly, and also pushy about getting out the gate, so we often shoo them away to regain our space. However, my son hadn't noticed that I was walking in the only direction the horses could have gone to get out of his way. When he jumped, all three horses spun and galloped straight at me. My husband yelled, "LOOK OUT!"

There was nothing I could do, because they were on top of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact. (This wouldn't be the first time I got caught in a stampede and knocked down. Fortunately, I haven't been stepped on yet.) Someone must have put a white light around me for protection, because all I felt was a gentle bump and then heard hoof beats disappear in the distance. I don't know how the horses were able to avoid knocking me over, but they did. I guess the lesson there is that if you get caught in the middle of a stampede, hold still and let the animals navigate around you. Don't try to jump out of the way or run.

Anyway, I was shaking for hours afterward and couldn't bring myself to ride any of them. I'm not afraid of horses now -- I'm just afraid that I've got another one of those black clouds hanging over my head that is trying to kill me, so I'm laying low to avoid any further near misses, or worse yet, hits.

Lostine Tackles the Trails

I got up at 6:00 AM on a Saturday morning to do some work for my boss, and right when I got down to the wire, almost completing my task around 9:00 AM, someone brought down the network at the office and I couldn't complete my assignment. I was so frustrated that I thought, "Hey, if management is going to ask me to work over the weekend and then do things to disrupt my ability to do my job, I may as well wrangle up a horse and hit the trails.

Bombay's cut is still healing, so I had to be sneaky about catching Lostine and getting her boots on. I couldn't put my purse in my truck or move the trailer. I had to pretend like we were going to ride at home. I fooled her. She held still while I prepped her for the trailer, because she didn't have a clue I was going to put her in the trailer. However, once I got her in the trailer, she did a lot of kicking. Look what she did to her hoof walls...

I found hoof chips all over on the inside of the trailer. These horses must have mighty brittle feet if they can break them on rubber matting.

Fortunately, I had Old Macs on her front feet, so they were protected. Perhaps it might be worth it to invest in some for her back hooves as well.

As I was heading up from the parking lot to the trail head, I ran into my favorite trail rider -- the man who tried to lead me and Bombay across the river with his black Tennessee Walking Horse. I finally got his name. It's funny how trail riders introduce their horses to each other, but forget to say, "Oh yeah, my name is..."

He got all excited over my Tucker Trail Saddle. He wants one, and he said he's surprised that not many people around here have them. I told him it's really comfortable and fits both me and Lostine well.

Really, really nice guy. I wish I could ride with him, but he likes to ride alone. I'm starting to enjoy riding alone myself. I'm learning that I can handle whatever my horses dish out. It would be nice to have some conversation during the ride, but I suppose I get enough of that with all the dog walkers I pass along the way.

I led Lostine up the half-mile hike to the bench under the tree. It gives me a chance to get some exercise, gives her a chance to get used the the surroundings and work out her spooks before I mount, and it allows for some time for her to relax her belly, so that I can tighten the cinch before I mount.

Mom! I've got sand in my shoes. I've got to stop to itch it...

Here we are under our favorite shade tree...

This is the bench I climb on to mount...

This is how high it boosts me up, so climbing into the saddle is pretty easy as you can see...

Of course, Lostine had to take off before I had my foot in the stirrup. I don't think we got twenty feet before she teleported sideways. In addition to all the new signs on the trail, the organization that maintains the trail placed triangular islands at the forks in the paths and surrounded them with tree branches. Lostine was so sure those tree branches on the ground were snakes, so after teleporting sideways without my foot in the stirrup, she started running backwards down the hill. Each time I tapped her with the riding crop to move her forward, she bucked!

The best I could do was to stop her from trying to spin, and then force her to face her fear. I didn't push her forward. I just made her look at it a while. Then when she sighed, I petted and praised her and moved her forward with my legs. She moved past it like it was never a concern.

I wanted to ride her to the river to see if she would cross it, but there were some people moving around in the shadows throwing rocks in the river. Just like when Bombay saw the horse in those shadows by the river, Lostine spun and tried to take off running down the mountain. I stopped her and made her face her fear for a while, and then I ASKED HER to turn and WALK down the mountain. It didn't look like those people were going to stop throwing rocks into the river any time soon and I needed the river to myself. Maybe next time.

Beautiful views on the way down. The colors literally change each weekend that I ride here.

I did let Lostine trot downhill on a few occasions because she was being pestered by horse flies, bumblebees and mosquitoes. Insects seem to be really attracted to her bright, flashy shade of chestnut. I'm sure they must think she's a rose... or a horse with blood. If I didn't let her trot off, she started kicking and bucking at the pests.

All was going well until we came upon that dreaded triangle of sticks again on the way down. Lostine jumped off trail and started running around in the sage brush. I was trying to guide her through it back to the sticks, but she was ready to blow. So, we just sat there while I took pictures of them...

This man came along and I had to apologize for going off trail. I explained that my horse is afraid of the sticks. He thought she should be more afraid of him, and I agreed. Earlier she spooked at a rock and these people grabbed their dog. I had to explain that she's okay with the dog. She's just finding that rock to be more threatening at the moment. I'm sure it must freak hikers out when they see my horses spook, because my horses spook big. If someone is standing too close, the horses could knock them down. In fact, last year Bombay ran backwards right into my husband, and my husband was smart enough to slap him hard on the rump to make him jump forward. So, I try to get past hikers as quickly as possible.

Eventually, I talked Lostine into moving back onto the trail and hanging a left to explore a new area with more pine trees. You can hear all the birds and squirrels moving about in the trees, so Lostine was on high alert. I had to push her past a few boulders and trees that a mountain lion might be hiding behind, and by the end of the ride she was doing a much better job trusting my judgment. This is the parking area at the trail head...

The man who owns that house next to the trail head has sheep and was out mowing with his rider mower today. The horses are much better now about not worrying as much about those things. The first time we brought them here, they didn't want to go within a mile of those sheep and any noise made them fractious.

It's so nice seeing them relax and mature. One of these days I might even get a trail ride with the horse's head down and ears floppy all the way. We are still in head up, ears forward, a few snorts here and there, and lots of spooks to the side mode. Lostine fared much better than Bombay on the trailer ride. I think since she is shorter than him, she has a lower center of gravity. Bombay is very lean and tall. It's like he's trying to keep his balance on stilts when I go around turns in the trailer. Well, I've got to get back to work. Bye for now.

Reseeding the Pasture

I've been watering the pasture like crazy and keeping the horses out of there in hopes of helping it to reseed itself naturally. Ironically, the lushest locations are the circular spots where the horses likes to pee. First the urine kills the grass, but by the following spring the grass grows back with a vengeance.

Most of the stalks have seeded, but there are also weeds and clover growing in the weaker spots. I'm just letting it go wild at the moment and will work on weeding soon. This is the locust tree that the horses like the shred with their teeth...

It looks like it is dead, but upon closer inspection it does appear to be trying to bloom...

I've watered so much that mushrooms are growing...

Here's a patch of clover with white flowers. I know that some clover is bad for horses, just like some locust trees are bad for horses, but this type appears to be low risk from what I've researched...