New Dept. of Interior Public Comment Site

The Department of the Interior, which is the part of government the Bureau of Land Management is under, has an open website for public comments. This is where we can, presumably, voice our opinions about the plight of the mustangs, and our opinions about horse slaughter. The site will be accessible until March 19. Here’s your chance to be heard! And here’s the link:

Department of Interior Public Website

Blessings to everyone who responds to this; thank you for caring about horses.

Mojo: What it means to a horsewoman: Part One

Mojo.

The word conjures visions of magic and power in innumerable contexts ranging from performance art to actual Voodoo. Webster’s defines it in part as “a charm or amulet thought to have magic powers.” But for a horsewoman, it isn’t the magical treat in her pocket that gives her power. Nothing so concrete. Nothing so fleeting.

Mojo is that eagerness we feel when we wake up in the morning and can’t wait to get out to the barn. It’s the juice that powers us out of the house on a cold, rainy, windy night to share with the friends who wait for our scent on the air, who listen for the cadence of our familiar footfalls and the comfort of our soothing touch.

It’s what keeps us happy and positive even when our horses seem “off,”  and gives us the energy to engage and lift them up.

It’s what our horses give back to us when our hearts are broken.

Mojo is energy, life-force, confidence and courage. Above all, it’s that spark inside that gives us the quality of leadership that our horses need.  Mojo is an essential part of who and what we are.

We need this mojo because it is what works to keep us and our horses trusting and confident in one another. It keeps us safe. It comprises that characteristic of leadership that makes our horses want to play along with us and learn.

It also comprises that characteristic of SELF-leadership that inspires us to “take it to the next level” in our horsemanship. For example, it gives us the feel that cues us to those exact “Aha!” moments in our horse, so that we can reward him with rest/thinking time. In ground training as in riding, confidence and clarity must come through both in our body language (position, cues, contact, feel), and from the intangible light of our aura, inviting as the smell of sweet mix, compelling as the leadership of the herd matriarch. This is not always easy, and not necessarily new-agey. Sometimes, it is a gift of the universe. Often, it is simply the reward of self-discipline.

But if this definition seems circular, that is because most often mojo is the gift of the horse himself. And that is the most important thing to remember during those awful times–and most of us have them–when the mojo seems gone.

Everything’s Peachy….

Angel in the Snow.

Winnie in the snow.

Chickens in the snow.

The snow, the endless snow.

The strangest things can happen on the Internet. Case in point: while throughout the last several weeks I had been innocently and doggedly shoveling paths to pens, corrals, feed shed, dog houses, my home and my car over and over again in and out of the parade of Heinous Snow Storms, rumors were floating far and wide like errant snowflakes, making their own parade. The result was that, night before last, I got a call from a friend and fellow rescuer, who said she got a call from a friend who got a dire e-mail from South Carolina or someplace asking if she had heard anything about those Fresh Start Horse Rescue people because “the lady” was in the hospital, dying, or “all the horses were dying” and so on and so forth…my friend was checking up in response to this, wondering how the paint mare we got from her, Ruffles, was doing.

Well, Ruffles is FINE, FAT and BORED just like the rest of the horses here.

Here she is with a volunteer, in August, when she first arrived (and was NOT bored OR fat because she had just weaned a foal that day). She is healthy now and up for adoption. She seems to be a one-person horse, and will latch onto the right person like a puppy. They say she’s rideable, but you have to pay attention to the trail because she doesn’t always! I haven’t gotten on her yet because I only train three horses at a time and I was busy with Wiz, Brandy and Winnie. So we’ll see how she does as soon as it thaws out a little more here.

Anyhoo, yes, I was in the hospital, and yes, the doctors insisted we get rid of all the horses before I was discharged because the job was too stressful for me, and well, maybe I mentioned something to somebody in an e-mail about needing to downsize and find homes quick for reasons of my health. You know, during the time of lost mojo. Well, I learned my lesson. You’ve got to be awfully careful what you say. I’ve had a lot of hysterical-sounding e-mail messages blow my way from all the infinite directions of the wind about other rescues in dire straits, and often wondered how credible they were.

Yes, there is no question that the economy has thrown its worst at all of us who labor hip-deep in rescue horse poop, and it is heartening and inspiring to see people from different walks of life come together to help horses–and rescuers–in need…although during this hospitalization and recuperation period of mine, no one actually came to our aid. We did not “get rid of” one horse as a result of that “disaster.” This could be related to the fact that we did not put out an all-points plea for help. Ironically, that was because I wanted to avoid the potential humiliation of escalating cross-posts over months and hundreds of miles!

Some of these e-messages are credible and some aren’t. Some of the crises are real. Some are just blown out of all proportion. But the truth seems to be, once you get into horse rescue, it’s darn near impossible to get out of it gracefully.

Rescue updates and the quest for lost mojo

Well, if any of you still check this blog after so much time has gone by, you would probably assume that either great progress has been made considering I’ve been too busy to get on the Internet…or else the Horseback Writer has flaked out and gone down the tubes. Well, it’s a little of both, and it’s a tale of lost mojo, failed health and hospitalization, and the struggle to get my life back.

As you can see here, my daughter and her horse haven’t been suffering a mojo problem lately, (she won “Most Improved Horseman” at the 4-H Achievement Awards) but I’ll bet there are a lot of horse owners out there who have had this problem a time or two. So I have planned a short series of posts about “mojo” in the interest of helping us all (a rough outline here):  What It Is and Why We Need It, Why We Lose It, How to Go On Living While It’s Gone, and How To Get It Back…a process which I am now running with.

But first, a brief update on  a few of the horses, for those who might have been wondering…

Winnie is turning out to be quite a nice, calm, quiet, relaxing horse for the trail. She is pretty much ready for adoption.  Her son, Sam, who was adopted, is happy and thriving in his forever home and we see him often. He is taller than his plump little pony of a mom, and quite happy with his mustang pal Panda, once known as Shadowfire, and then for a time as Pretty Cookies.

Avalon and Corona both were adopted to presumably good, forever homes and came right back — Corona, in only a week.  You think people understand that horses are not dogs, but even dogs need time to settle in to a new situation and you can’t expect a new horse to respect and trust you right from the moment they set hoof in your paddock, especially if all you do is feed them treats. Happily, Avalon has found a new home with an experienced horsewoman and we are very optimistic about this one. Corona may just want to live nowhere but here; this was her third try at a home. She is a perfect angel here, (we use her for trail riding) but she can be headstrong and needs sturdy or electric fencing.  She is grandkid-gentle, but you have to know what you’re doing in the saddle.

Brandy, an adoptable young Quarter Horse mare, has been started under saddle and she is beautiful, a willing, fast learner.

Silly Wizard has come a long way. He is learning more advanced ground games and he is responsive and energetic both on the ground and under saddle. He is a very sensitive horse and still has issues with his ears, and fear of people other than me.

Rosa, a.k.a. Cassie, and her life partner are doing well together in their remote haven, taking things slowly but making better progress now that Patrice has constructed a functional round pen out of cedar posts.

And, sadly, the sanfoin hay study thing fell through…something to do with lack of trucking space for the hay. So that’s the update, and definitely enough for one post! Thanks for reading…

Fresh Start to participate in hay study

Fresh Start Horse Rescue has been contacted by an agency that would like to use our rescue horses in a study of the performance of sainfoin hay. Sainfoin is a relatively new leguminous forage being tried out in the Southwest. It is touted to be rich in protein and good for horses that don’t do well on other forages.

If FSHR is selected for the study, they will be required to keep records of the feeding, the feed’s performance, and other aspects of the horses being fed the hay. In addition, we will keep some “control” horses off the sainfoin to see if there is a difference in the performance of the feed from other feeds.

If anyone reading this has experience with sainfoin hay, we would appreciate your input as soon as you are able. If FSHR participates in the study, several tons, between ten and fifteen tons, will be delivered here fairly soon. Problem: we do not have a forklift with which to unload the big truck that will arrive with the hay. So…we are in need of the loan of a piece of equipment that can unload tons of hay off a big truck.

If we participate in the study, we may very likely have enough hay on hand to start our Emergency Hay Program to provide hay for locals in financial difficulty with feeding their horses. Qualifying individuals will also be required to keep records of how the hay does if the sainfoin hay is used, although the emergency hay bank may consist of different hay. We do not know yet how it will work out. Still, we are excited for the study could help the community at large with a crop that apparently does very well on dryland and is excellent forage for cattle and other ruminants as well. Participation in a study like this one, if the hay performs well and agrees with the horses, may also enable us to save more horses, such as our new arrival Amy (picture to follow) for whom it was either the sale barn or the rescue. Any comments about sainfoin hay would be very much appreciated before the study is slated to begin. Thanks very much.
-HW

Here is a compelling reason to visit Auctions

Livestock Auctions and the slaughter scene

Many people still don’t realize that taking their beloved or well-used horse to the livestock auction does not necessarily mean that the horse in question will go to a good, forever home where it will be used, loved, or retired. A good portion of good horses, like Cloud, above, get high-bidded and won by dealers. Not all dealers send all of their horses to Mexico and Canada for slaughter, but enough of them send enough. Once your horse is bought, you have relinquished control over that horse’s fate. A very nice dealer let us buy Cloud from him just as he was getting ready to ship her for slaughter. Cloud, at the time, was overly fat, lame in both front feet, and perfect for the slaughter truck. Yet we saw something in her, potential of some kind, because we brought her home and allowed her to run on the rocks and sample the grass and weeds in our back forty. Three years later, Cloud and our daughter Erin are winning on this horse. Barrels, poles, keyhole, even reining and cutting. This was a good horse who may have been sent to slaughter because of her lameness at the time of auction. This is a success story. It is also a cautionary tale about Livestock Auctions. Not all are bad. But you need to be careful. Thank God for Cloud!

It is love. Fantastic, unconditional, nonjudgmental and always forgiving. Remember it. It is there forever. The beautiful bar-shaped pupils take it all in and they feel it deeply and the process it and they learn you. They learn you like a challenge. They love you like mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. Do not underestimate the power of horse bonding and commitment to the journey. Your destined to bond. Your’e destined to be a single mind. Love it. Love it. God instilled the horse with everything a human needs. Seek and ye shall find.

Take the example of Treasor. The fantastical pushy flashy one. The one who changed overnight because she is a one-man horse. The one who only Daniel Ryan could gentle and is now riding. Theirs is a relationship sanctioned by the lord. Praise God! Praise his creation!  Praise for the heron, the gliding flyer, the benediction of the bald eagle, the blessing of the owl. The amazing sync. It is here. It is why the peacable kingdom attracts such harmony. It is here. It calls to you. Youth, tormented, bipolar, balanced, happy, stressed. all shall find peace here. All the horses have something no one can live without. There is no happier, no more trusting, no more surrender than you who hurt will find here. We want you. Wewant to help you. Listen to us. Listen to the equine speech.  Feeel the equine heart as it beats with your heart. You, too, will be as hooked as I am.  Take a hand here.  Take a hoof to your care. Love it.

The rain comes…finally

There is nothing like pain. Real, insistant, deep pain that reminds you with every step you take that there must be something wrong with you. As the fires burn, casting the unearthly color pallet of sunset to the north, all moisture is leached from the air you breathe…the same air the horses breathe. It doesn’t stop. Like fire, the urge consumes all the dead-sap-filled trees of the psyche, including the ones whose green needles still prick and sting with their empty promise of shade. Doomed.

He’s still out there, the psycho, the explosive, fearful one, standing mild and soft-eyed in the gelding corral, asking–nay, beseeching you– for attention. And so you give it to him. Only you’re sick unto death of letting him run the show. The one, longest, most painful lesson you have learned in all your years of rehabilitating abused, emotionally damaged animals is this: to treat them like abused animals, to shroud them in arcane mythologies based on your imagination over what they have suffered is to damage them further. To define them by their pasts. To allow their pasts to define them. So you decide to treat him like any other horse. Except, whether by the endless fire or the relentless pressure, or just the change in meds, your judgment has been tweaked to slightly off.

So when it’s time to accept the victory of binding a bareback pad around his pristine heartgirth, you push the envelope. You saddle him. You turn him loose to deal with it. You can’t get out of the round pen in time. See, he’s using the whole thing for his explosion. The middle isn’t safe. You can’t reach the panels fast enough. And now, days later, you are in so much pain that you can’t think, let alone ride even the gentlest pony who waits patiently for you, who adores you. Because you couldn’t leave the freak alone. You were drawn to him. His name is Mooch. You tried to name him Braveheart, to turn things around for him through the mystical power of names. But that doesn’t work when the horse’s brain itself may be damaged.

And now at last the rain comes. Drenches everything left hastily out to get to 4H on time. Cleans the dust, the opressive dryness, the stifled sinuses, the coiled emotions. It’s all out. Pouring. Crying. My beautiful Brandy, my devoted Wizard, my dependable Blizzard, my evolving Pinky, my enthusiastic Zil, my overly-fat Tempo, my poised-to-achieve Winnie, all wanting what only I can give them. But I chose crazy Mooch. He hurt me…probably seeking comfort, not conquest.  And now I can give very little to anyone else who may be more deserving. Now, that’s not fair to Mooch. He’s deserving too. But maybe not first. And maybe not at the expense of others’ progress.

It’s raining. Maybe now, my thinking will clear. I will know what to do. I’m crying, but I love this life.

Hate call!

Today we got our first hate call. From someone claiming to be a certain person. He said he had a .22 magnum and some bullets to donate so all the horses could be shot because we “ruined his horse business,” and then he accused us of doing this horse rescue thing for “personal gain.” There was a threatening aspect to the way things were phrased. The Sheriff’s Office was called and they said they would try to trace the call. We don’t know who it was, only who he claimed to be, and then the caller bridled when asked for confirmation of his identity.

It’s not a great thing to receive a call like this. But considering what we do and the atmosphere in which we do it, I suppose we’ve been lucky not to have received calls like this before. Rather than get upset, I just thank God that we have a horse rescue to be hated for. The horses are a blessing. The mentality behind the hatred is just laughable.

If I wanted to run a scam for “personal gain,” I don’t know about YOU, but I would not choose horse rescue.

I also got a call today from another friend (I think) who rescues horses. I hadn’t heard from her in awhile.  I told her I’d been thinking of her lately (I have been) and her first reaction was to ask whether it was good or bad. Taken aback, I said it was good, and I was just wondering how she was doing. I wish I had asked her why she would think I would think ill of her. I think she is awesome and conscientious. Sensitive individuals such as myself actually lose sleep over this stuff. Probably with good reason.

Sorrow

I also spoke to a good friend whose beloved horse died unexpectedly. From experience, I know there is nothing to equal that pain.  It is heartrending and infinite even when expected. This beautiful mare will be missed by everyone who has had the pleasure of meeting her. I hope this friend of mine knows that she is not alone, that she is loved, and that her horse’s spirit is alive and free.

Yard Sale Saturday…

Saturday we are having our first Yard Sale Fund-raiser, here at our place, starting at 8 a.m. We have no idea how it will go. We have a lot of great items from a lot of great people, but we don’t know if a yard sale can even raise enough money for a vet visit. Like I said, it’s a first try. A lot of yard sales I’ve been to were disorganized, and you had to dig through dirty boxes of unsorted miscellany. Sometimes you can find something super that way, but you don’t SELL much that way. So I’ve been trying to get everything fairly well sorted out and cleaned up. Pricing will be the biggest challenge. I’m shooting for Yard Sale prices, not chain thrift-store prices, so people will have a positive experience and we won’t have tons left over. There will also be free stuff. Yet, it IS a fund-raiser, so…it’s a delicate tightrope. Okay, no, it isn’t a delicate tightrope, it’s just a yard sale. Jeez. If we have enough volunteers manning the sale, we will also have our adoptable horses available for viewing. Otherwise they’ll all be running out in the forty, being their happy, healthy, horsey selves.

Everything donated for the Yard Sale that does not get sold will either be held onto for another Rescue fund-raiser, or it will be donated to another nonprofit’s Yard Sale or Thrift Store. See you soon.

Extremely disturbing news about BLM mustangs

This link was e-mailed to me by an animal welfare colleague. The letter concerned the options being seriously discussed by the BLM for handling the wild horse population problem. Among the options discussed are mass euthanasia by various methods and sale of thousands of young, healthy mustangs to foreign companies for slaughter. If you care at all about the fate of the American Mustang, please read this report.

http://www.conquistadorprogram.org/blm__court_documents_on_wild_horses

Now, write to your Congressman, and/or President Obama with your opinion. The more letters written, the better. YOUR wild horses need YOUR support.