Winter

Mom and Dad have been getting the farm ready for Winter. I see trees being cut back, plants divided and moved, limbs and sticks removed and many other things that mean cold weather is here. The little goats have thick bedding in their little house and so do the chickens. The barn is full of sweet smelling hay! We mainly live outside, which we like best, and it keeps us healthier. We get called in to our stalls twice a day to be fed, groomed and have our feet checked. All of us horses have waterproof blankets for really bad weather and we watched as they were cleaned, fitted and our names put on them. Mom says that she especially wants to be sure I stay warm enough, as I am thinner than the others and my coat isn't as thick. Today we were told there could be sleet or ice pellets by morning, so we all have on our blankets. Cloud is mad, though, because he has to be put in a separate pasture with Frosty. As you can see, Frosty, being a tough little pony with a wonderfully thick coat, doesn't need a blanket as long as he has a run-in shelter. Cloud thinks it is funny to play with the other horses' blankets and when he does that he rips them! I mean he rips them in half!! So he is in a grumbly mood today.

With Thanks

I was talking to Frosty and Ace about how we want to eat more grass than we are allowed. The fluffy dog, Lady, came over to the fence and said "We all sometimes want more than we have. I would love to eat cookies all day, but when you think about it, we are lucky that we are living on a farm with good friends of all species, plenty of food, space to run and play and people who put our needs first." We had to agree that we are thankful for all of that, especially me, because I was once in a place that had none of that. So Happy Thanksgiving to all creatures great and small!

The Mistake

Today I made a mistake. Maybe the worst a horse can make. I am very possessive of my stall and don't like the other horses to get too close to it. I show them this by throwing my head out with my ears pinned back and snap, trying to bite them. They keep their distance, I can tell you! This morning Ace and Cloud went by my stall on their way to the pasture and I snapped and snapped at them. In a bit, as I was finishing my breakfast, I saw something come near my door. "They've come back!" I thought, so I rushed at the door, threw out my head and snapped hard. It wasn't Ace or Cloud. It was Mom! She fell on the floor, with her face bruised and cut.

What had I done! She got up and went to the house. In a while Dad came out. He led me to my pasture and put out my hay and went back to the house. Later, Mom came out with Mama J and worked with me on minding my manners while being led, while standing tied, and while walking out of my stall. If I got pushy I got a sharp tug on my halter to remind me I was to respect people. When I did well they petted me and told me I was a good girl. I didn't mean to hurt my Mom, but now I have bars on my stall door so I can't bite at the other horses either. It was a big mistake I made and I lost the priviledge of putting my head out of my door. It is a lesson I hope I will remember.

Too Much of a Good Thing.

There are 2 of us horses who have had a problem in the past with our feet - something called laminitis. Frosty and I have to be careful, or so we are told, about how much grass we can have because there are sugars in the grass that can make our feet worse again. Our big front pasture has LOTS of grass. I can't go out there with Cloud and Ace without this thing called a grazing muzzle, and then not for very long. It let's me eat some grass, but not very much at a time. The ponies never gets to go out there at all! Bullet, the white dog, said he thought lots of grass was good for horses, and really, so did I. But it seems too much of a good thing can cause trouble. (Mom says that is true for everyone, not just horses.) So I am usually in the middle pasture with hay, so I don't get too much sugar. My family is careful about what we eat and each of us 5 horses has our own measured amount of grain, supplements and hay. We all wish we could eat as much as we want of everything! But Mom says that is dangerous for us. She said whoever started the phrase "healthy as a horse" never had one. Oh well, I guess it is good to have someone look after what is best for you when you don't know about things yourself.

Someone new came to Walkabout Farm this morning. The chickens were the first to tell us and were clucking between themselves about the stranger. He calls himself a "pigeon" and says his name is Freedom. He is very polite, and made himself at home through the day. He stayed around the barn where Mom had thrown out some extra corn for him. He gave me quite a surprise when he flew to the top of the barn and I heard his feet scratching on the metal, a weird and scary sound, but then I realized he meant no harm. The chickens talked to him this afternoon and he said he had been living in "the city", but had heard there were places where birds nested in trees and there were other animals to talk to and no loud cars roaring and honking. So he decided to see for himself and set out on his journey. Later this afternoon he flew onto Cloud's window sill and told us he was so glad the stories were true about their being another land called "the country." It made us all very grateful that we live where we do, so loved and cared for in this beautiful green world. We know some horses who don't get the freedom we do here and that they are made to trot in circles all the time they are out of their stalls. They have told us that some horses are asked to run very fast for a couple of minutes each day, then stand in their stalls again. I came from a very similar past, trotting in a ring then being made to jump very high until I was exhausted. I was then abandoned to stand by myself in a vacant lot with no one to care for and feed me. All I could do was dream of a different life until I was rescued and finally found my forever home. We think Pigeon is brave for following his dream. He doesn't know if he will stay, or keep exploring, but we are glad to have him while he is here.

A good trail horse

Saturday Mom and Dad took Ace and Cloud off in the trailer. (I was worried, as sometimes that means a horse will never come back!) But they returned a few hours later and I found out there may be more to being a trail horse than just being a horse on a trail. Cloud said they were enjoying going along a nice, cool, wooded trail when he suddenly felt pain in many places at once, like hot needles on his legs and chest. There was a buzzing sound like flies, but hurt worse than fly bites. He said he stomped all his feet at once and tossed his head and stomped again, then he
heard Mom say "Yellow jackets, lets move it!" Dad and Ace started down the trail fast, and Mom told Cloud to GO! After a bit they stopped and Cloud got checked all over. He said his nose even hurt!
I asked Cloud didn't he want to buck and run away as soon as he felt the stings, but he said
if he had done that, he and Mom might have been hurt worse and that a good trail horse has to trust his rider to help him think about the best thing to do. So he waited for her to say it was ok to run. Later, I thought about that. A trail horse needs to be responsible for being a partner with his or her rider. They have to look after each other. That is an important thing to remember.

Cats

I am asked about my relationship with cats. I have known many over my 22 years and have found them all to be wonderful companions. You may know of Traveller (the favorite horse of Robert E Lee). Traveller's best friend later in life was a cat named Tom. I am told that Walkabout Farm was home to an amazing cat named Goldie, who was the Queen of all good cats. She was 20 years old when she went over the Rainbow Bridge, quite an unusual age for a cat. Ace told me that she trained many dogs in her time and legend says she was well respected among all species, including humans, horses, ponies, dogs, other cats, chickens, ducks and goats. When one has a good soul it doesn't matter what species you are. She was much feared by mice, moles and rabbits as well as bumbling puppies. All at Walkabout Farm loved and miss her. Bullet, the white dog, was her special friend. I am sorry not to have known her, but she lives on in the tales handed down from those who did.