They Are Only Babies

My husband is always telling me... "If you're going to be in the horse business...."  To which I always reply, "I'm not in the horse business, I'm in the horse hobby." It has never been my aspiration to make a living off my horses. Do I wish they would contribute a little more than they do? Of course! No one has volunteered yet so I'll keep waiting. Maybe one day...🤞

I like to raise my own. Mostly because it allows me to know them and them to know me. I can give you details about every horse on this place, along with histories of their mothers and siblings. I learn all of their quirks and how to approach each one in a way they understand. It takes time and a genuine interest. Horses know what you know and they know what you don't know and they can and will use it against you. So you better spend the time to learn exactly what you're dealing with.

This year, my 1st group of babies are 5. I didn't get to haul or pattern them nearly as much as I would have liked.  At present, they still hollar to each other when one rides away from the trailer.  They paw in or at the trailer with a lack of patience or attention. They spook at sights and sounds they only get to see in town. All of which are amplified with being fresh and full of grain and silliness. And this is annoying. Very annoying. But you know what? They are just babies.

Thankfully, they have improved even with the limited hauling they've gotten. They all load and unload with ease. Which, is not how we started out. I actually dreaded taking them places because of the loading and unloading issues I might have or the fits thrown at or in the trailer while I wasn't present.  But I made myself do it. I forced myself to take them along as frustrated and anxious as it made me. Thankfully, nobody died and they all eventually worked through it, finding I always tried to make their experience consistent, predictable, and enjoyable.

My husband says I spoil them because I always have hay for them, in the trailer or at the trailer. He thinks that what I do doesn't make them learn to load or stand tied without a hay bag in front of them. But I disagree.  They are just babies.  They are learning. They are flight animals, herd animals, and everything we ask them to do is completely unnatural to them. I try to give them comfort in a way they understand to show them that what I'm asking them to do will not hurt them.  Horses thrive on routine, repetition, and consistency.  It's the best way I've found to communicate with them and teach them to trust that I won't put them in a dangerous situation. You have to be the boss but you don't have to be a dictator. You want respect, but you must earn it, not demand it.

Just think of a time you were scared. You had to do something alone, or with people you didn't know. You didn't know what to expect or what would be expected of you and how nervous it made you. Now, imagine the person in charge is yelling at you in a language you don't speak, being physically rough with you, and taking you to places you are unfamiliar with. You don't know how long you'll be there, or when you will eat or drink next.  Personally, that thought gives me serious anxiety and I'm the one with the big, rational brain.

They need to learn to travel alone as well as, together with their buddies. They need to learn that while we ride away and leave the others, we will return. Same for the ones at the trailer. It's a process. It's by no means easy, but it is necessary and takes a lot of time and repetition. And yes, it's very annoying and stressful.

But, I will continue going to town with my young ones. Hollaring, pawing, spooking.... because how else will they learn? It takes a lot of patience, of which is something I'm still personally working on, a deaf ear, and some motivation to do things that drive you nuts because it's all part of the process. After all, they are only babies.

You Aren't Getting Out Alive!

 I haven't really written much this past year. I haven't really felt inspired to. Nothing has really touch my soul enough to express it into words. With all that's going on, the only words that do come to my mind are ones I actually wrote 5 years ago. They are still as relevant now as they were then. 

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Soapbox rant ahead! Life is a risk, nobody is getting out alive! You can't live your life around the 'what-if's' or the freak accidents. They are going to happen whether you try to avoid them or not. If it isn't one you planned for, it will be another you never saw coming.  

We now live in a society that fears death greatly.  So much so, that people live their whole lives trying to avoid it in every single way possible ( honestly believing they can).  Instead of enjoying all life has to offer, they stay within the boundries of safety defined by all those who died before them and those taking measures to never let it happen again. 

I am by no means against safety or trying to not to die. I'm simply saying to enjoy life to it's fullest, there is some risk involved. Some people drive fast,  some people skydive, some people ride horses. You choose the risks your are comfortable or maybe a little uncomfortable taking, to enjoy your time on Earth.

Everybody wants to sit back judge the risks you take in your life to, not only justify that their safe lives are worth living, but that they are somehow better than yours because of it.

 I'm a believer in, when it is your time, it's your time and there's no stopping it. I am going to continue loving and taking care my family, friends, and horses, and enjoy every minute we have together. I will not dwell on all the things that could happen, they are out of my control anyways. I'll do what I feel is right for me and suggest you do the same. Let's leave the judging to Jesus and continue being friends despite the differences in our risk taking.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the cartoon movie, The Croods, "That's not living, it's just, not dying." Be sure you are really living and not just, not dying! 😁

Only Hope Is Stronger Than Fear

 There is so much fear mongering going on in our world right now.

Fear: Being afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening.

Hope: A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen, a feeling of trust.

"Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear."

For me, my hope is contained within my all of my horses.

And I have a lot of horses....

My hopes are high and my fears are low.

Be sure you have something that gives you so much hope, that fear is strong armed out.

Wash Your Hands and Say Your Prayers!

I've decided that horse people, specifically Barrel Racers, are not afraid of this virus. Honestly, it's probably the least risky thing we have to deal with.

We swing a leg over  horses that have been sitting too long, full up on fresh green grass, alfalfa,  and grain with every vitamin, mineral, and magic we can sprinkle in, and don't think twice about it. Hell, we probably even acknowledge how stupid of an idea it is. But we do it anyways. If that's not riskier to your life than a virus, I don't know what is!

We casually get into a confined box on wheels with a claustrophobic by nature, flight animal. Hell, we will put 5 more in with them. We go barreling down the highway at 70mph in a one ton truck, drinking coffee, eating on the fly, singing at the top of our lungs, making videos about 'barrel racer' life, and driving through the night to get to a race or rodeo. If that's not more risky to your life than a virus, I don't know what is.

We have cleaned out stalls/horse trailers, brushed off our muddy, poop covered horses, cleaned their feet, thrown hay, and then eaten food ourselves without little more than rinsing our hands in the horse's water bucket and wiping them off on our jeans... if that's not just as risky as a virus, I don't know what is.

If you've ever travelled with rodeo cowboys, hung out in a rodeo beer garden, used a porta-potty at a rodeo, you have already been exposed to far worse things that are riskier to your life than this virus.

Running a barrel horse full tilt on rodeo ground. On wet rodeo ground. On wet rodeo ground in an arena with a slight slope. Virus, danger, what??

It seems to me, as a general rule, most horse people believe in a higher power. After all, some of the stuff we survive can really only be explained by having been clearly saved by something bigger than we are. Some might call it luck. But the people who live this way, know you just can't be lucky that much. We live our daily lives taking so much risk, and we don't even realize it until hundreds of thousands of people freak out about something small. It's actually a big thing, but we don't seem to see it that way.

We live lives of high risk and know, something will kill us. We have actually been in some near death situations and made it through. That's why I think our faith is a little stronger than most. We already live with unpredictability and risk. We are comfortable with it. We respect it. We accept it. We happily coexist with it. Party on Wayne! Party on Garth!

It's just another one of those great life lessons we learn from horses. Here's something that can kill you. It has a mind of it's own. You can make suggestions but if a 1200lb animal decides to disagree, you will not win. They can be unpredictable and react dangerously. You do your best to reduce the risks but ultimately you learn to live with them and enjoy your life and horses around them.

It is not so different with viruses. They can kill you, they have a mind of their own (not really but kinda) you can try protect yourself but if it wants to attack you and has an opportunity, it will. They are unpredictable and dangerous. You can do you best to reduce the risks but ultimately you have to learn to live with them and enjoy your life around them.

 A final thought that seems like the best saying for our current situation... wash your hands and say your prayers, because Jesus and germs are everywhere! Stay as safe as you see fit but live your lives! Party on, friends, party on!

I hate cleaning! I just want to ride!

I hate cleaning. I mean, I like things orderly, in fact, I need them that way to stay sane. But I hate spending my much needed, much anticipated days off, cleaning. Cleaning up other people's messes. I hate it! I just want to ride my horses!

I hate empty promises of getting help to clean up. I hate someone helping to clean and doing a half-assed job. I hate when I get help and it's doing something that is completely useless to the overall cleanliness of the house. I hate to sound ungrateful for the help but I've had this place clean, you know what that looks like, let's shoot for that! Not, "hey this drawer is messy, I'll clean that and spend all day doing it"! Ahhhhh!!! Just go, I'll effing do it myself!

I can't stand clutter. I can't stand messes. But honestly as much of a clean freak as I come off as, I'm really not that bad. I'm not OCD but I do like organization and a basic clean appearance. I also like things to smell good. Is that so much to ask?

And another thing I hate, while I'm on a roll: people using my things. I'm not a complete monster. I'll share. But when someone borrows my shit without asking, loses or damages it, or doesn't return it to its place of origin, I effing lose it. I become the biggest, most selfish brat on the planet. Don't touch my shit. Don't borrow my shit. Don't even look at my shit or I will effing cut you!

Whew, that actually feels better! 😁 I think I'd better go ride now!

Shit Salad

I came home today with every intention to ride. The weather wasn't too miserable, I had enough daylight, and enough time before I had to pick Laramie up from volleyball practice, it was going to work. But lately, every time I try make plans, they turn to crap. When life hands you potatoes, you make potato salad, right? Well, life handed me a pile of shit, what am I supposed to make out of that?? Uhhh, shit salad?? 😂 I'm being dramatic, it's not that bad... but it's not that ideal, so shit salad it is!

So, there I am driving on my road home, doing a visual count of the horses in each pasture as a go by. As I approach what we call the Sorrel Pen, I notice only sorrels in this pasture. And as appropriate as that might sound, it's missing a bay broodmare. She's kind of the odd man out anyways (obviously, she's not sorrel) but I figure she's just behind the shed out of sight. I make a mental note to check for her when I ride by. I do notice the other 3 staring at something towards my grandma's house, but at this moment, I think nothing of it.

That is, until about 3 seconds later I catch out of the corner of my eye, the missing bay broodmare. Just chilling in my grandma's yard, crunching on grass. What. In. The. Hell. How is she out? I figure it's one of two ways, either she went through the fence or over it. Considering the 3 sorrels are still very much in, I entertain the latter. I was really hoping she sprouted wings and Pegasus-ed her way over and didn't manage to hurt herself. But no such luck.

She ended up cutting her back leg  superficially. My back leg injury assessment skills are pretty much on point these days as are my wrapping and doctoring techniques, so do I freak out? No, I do not! This? This is nothing.. Ha! Look at me go! I'm not even worried, all those injuries from last year made me tough, or stupid or so crazy I don't know the difference!!🤪 Whatever it is, I got this.

After I caught her up, I put on my detective hat to figure out where and how this whole fiasco took place. It isn't long before I can see what likely happened. And as it turned out, neither 2 of my initial theories were correct. Instead, it was option 3... under the fence. Running like idiots, she slipped on the snow and mud, sliding into the fence. Now, this is where the magic happens. It is a 5 strand, smooth wire fence. From the best I can figure, when she slipped and fell, she stuck her head and three of her legs between strands 4 and 5. Her other leg went under the 5th. When she popped up on the other side, the leg under the bottom wire was sliced on her way up.

This is not a small mare. She is a pretty good sized gal. How she managed this, is beyond me. The top 3 wires were still 100% tight. The bottom two were stretched but not broken. The 4th strand had popped the staple holding it to the post but the rest were still intact. I don't know how horses can get themselves into these situations. You'd think 1000lb animals on toothpick legs would be a little more interested in self preservation, but they're not.

After I got her all wrapped up, I tried to turn her back out with the friends she so desperately wanted to get back to, only to find those 3 buttholes were plotting to kill her. They immediately start chasing her, running full speed, ears pinned. I'm yelling at them, curse words flying, trying to not get smoked by one as they race by me after her. I'm able to get to her, catch her back up and get back to the gate, even with them circling us like bunch vegetarian sharks.

I decide she will spend the night in the barn, with a companion pony instead. As soon as I get her out of there, those 3 jerks stand at the gate like a little sorrel gang, acting like I was the crazy one. Almost saying, 'C'mon, we were just playing with her, we weren't gonna hurt her......again'. She was upset I took her out and pulled on me the whole way to the barn, wanting to go back. She's only spent the last 3 months with them, not sure why they hate her now, but they do. It's because she's not sorrel, isn't it?? Assholes.

I tucked her into the barn with Rhubarb and they seem to get along just fine. I love having ponies around for this reason. Horses are herd animals, they usually don't like being alone. But sometimes their herd is a bunch of sorrel jerks and they literally will chase you out of their group. So, you get moved to the barn for battered mares and given a companion pony.

2020 wasn't supposed to start like this. This crap was a 2019 thing. But honestly, I'm just glad it wasnt worse when it damn sure probably should have been. I'm also grateful for an injury that I could take care of with my eyes closed. And that! THAT my friends, is how you make shit salad! 💩 🥗 😂

Reys The Roof

With the Columbia River Circuit Finals having just come to a close, I thought it'd be appropriate to share this post from November 2014. Breakaway roping has exploded onto the prorodeo scene. I was actually the 1st Columbia River Circuit Champion! But before you get kind of impressed, know I was more lucky than anything.  It's stil kinda cool though...

As it turns out, I ended up winning the Columbia River Circuit in the Breakaway. I will be the first to say, there wasn't much blood, sweat, and tears put into winning this buckle.

 I hadn't roped in over a year, practiced once (complaining most of the time), and literally almost drew out before I got there. I won the first round of a two round roping, of the only roping held this year.

 However, this buckle is kind of special to me. I won it by roping in a 2.8 off of my husband's steer tripping/heel horse named Reys The Roof... othewise known as Roofie, who we lost this fall. I had planned on riding him next year at these events, if they held them. I was going to get a little more serious about my roping and felt Roofie could take me there. But somethings just aren't meant to be....

 I will enjoy this beautiful buckle and always remember the little bay horse that helped me win it. :)