Acute Spring Fever

Is spring finally here? I cannot remember a winter more miserable than the one (I hope) just past. That's quite a statement from someone who's always hated winter anyway.

It wasn't just the cold - although it was very cold very late in the season - which is always hard to take - it was me, my body and mind. My back, always touchy due to congenital lumbar stenosis, decided to have a fit at the worst possible time. The heavy clothes I had to wear to the barn made my back scream, which made my legs scream, which made it difficult just to walk back and forth to the barn, let alone do anything when I got there.

Twenty-five years of making a living using a keyboard have left me with severe tendinitis in both hands and carpel tunnel syndrome in both wrists - both of which are quite sensitive to the cold. The extra effort of working in heavy gloves greatly exacerbates the tendinitis, making gripping anything very painful.

Definitely not helping matters was the fact that there was so much stall cleaning to do, especially in the morning - my very worst time. No, it wasn't Indy and Ami. They are pretty darn neat in their stalls, even in very bad weather. Rather it was the barn cats. Yes, I said cats - about 20 of them using the stalls as litter boxes. Ewwwwwwww!

Not only did we have to practically sift the stalls to find it all of it, cat poop makes horse poop smell like Channel #5. Not great exactly the greatest on frigid mornings when one already feels like Dead Person Walking - under 15 lbs. of layered clothing. The worst of it was that all this took so long that it was almost time for their lunch by the time we finished.

Several times I was so exhausted when we finally got back in the house that the only thing I could do was crash so I would be able to fix Indy's and Ami's lunch and take it out to them - which of course involved getting all dressed again. I was truly miserable. There were mornings when I honestly questioned whether I would be able to get dressed - no small feat at 10 degrees - stagger to the barn, clean up, mainly after the cats, stagger back to the house, get undressed, rest for maybe an hour before lunch.

So, on those mornings while I was lying in bed wondering if I could make it through another bone chilling morning, did I wish I didn't have to go out in the cold? Certainly. Did the thought that I might be better off without horses ever cross my mind? Certainly not.

Why not? Because my life would be so empty without them. Because, for me, horses are Magic. No matter how bad I feel and for whatever reason, the moment I'm with my horses I'm fine. These glorious creatures are as necessary to me as the air I breath - air preferably wafting the warm, earthy smell of horses my way.

I was born addicted to horses, and I will die addicted to horses. It's no more under my control than the color of my eyes or the fact that I happen to be left handed. It just is. And I am so grateful for it.

Well, then, what about all those cats? What can I do? I mean, I couldn't get along without Princess, or Precious, or Zip, or Cudzy, or Tab, or Ranger, or Scout, or Pepper, or Blue, or Bobby, or Scritch, or Frosty, or Nose, or BK, or Speed, or Mr. Gray, or Bash, or Bunny, or Boots, or ...

Oh well. They hardly ever use the stalls when the weather is decent.

The Gift

My farrier, Matt, was over Friday to trim Indy and Ami. Neither of them wear shoes, but they need their regular trims just the same.

Matt is not only an excellent farrier, he's a great friend, and he only lives about ten minutes away. Over the years that he's taken care of my horses, we've come to know each other very well, and we discuss everything under the sun.

Friday we got talking about the whole slaughter/unwanted horses/owner responsibility thing. We agree that slaughter is not - or at least it shouldn't be - the answer to "unwanted" horses. We've both felt for a long time that owner responsibility - or the lack thereof - is the root cause of all these surplus horses, and that's what needs to be addressed. Owner education is the only real and humane solution.

Then Matt said something that I'll never forget. He said that we - that is, horse owners - seem to have forgotten what wonderful gifts our horses offer - the gift of riding them; the gift of working with them; the gift of just watching them; the gift of smelling their breath.

I think it was that last one that got to me the most, because it is a gift, just to smell their warm, sweet breath. I know many of you horse lovers know exactly what we mean.

What then is our responsibility to these unsurpassed creatures who give us so much? Is it - as Matt and I think - to keep our horses for the rest of their natural lives, or, failing that, make sure they go to a good home? At the end of their lives, is it our responsibility to ensure that they have a peaceful and painless exit from this world?

Or, is it okay to "dispose" of a horse that can't/won't fulfill the purpose we envisioned on purchase in any way available? Should we sell them to anyone who will meet our price without regard to what that person might have in mind for them? Should we send them to slaughter - with all it's attendant frightful possibilities - instead of providing them with euthanasia by a veterinarian? And, if slaughter is the best we feel we can do for our horses at the end of their "useful" lives, should we ever have owned them at all?

I've already stated my own opinions about these questions. I offer this post as food for thought.

Where Is Global Warming When You Need It!

Cold? Who's Cold? It was a balmy 29 degrees when we went out to feed the horses this morning. Balmy compared to the last few days when temps toped out at 10 or 11 degrees that is. Yesterday we started out with -4.

The footing was so bad that even Indy was reluctant to venture out into the field. It was so warm and so wet just a few weeks ago that the ground was unusually torn up - and then it froze that way. Indy just doesn't like it, but poor Ami gets foot sore. She always did that. I've had her since she was a yearling, and her soles always gave her problems on broken, frozen ground.

It will be better for them today though. Not only is it a bit warmer, we're getting snow. It's surprising how much cushion just an inch or two of snow can provide.

Besides, Indy especially loves snow, and not just to romp in either. He eats it. I've watched him at his outside hay feeder take a few bites of hay and then a mouthful of show. It's just like the sip of water he takes every few bites at the inside feeder. Well heck, hay is dry stuff.

We all had an interesting adventure on that -4 morning though. I was preparing the inside portion of Indy and Ami's breakfast - couple of soaked alfalfa cubes and their Omega 3 supplement - when I glanced out the kitchen window and there was a deer in the backyard! Actually, there were two deer in the backyard, just a few feet from the window. I got my Mike's attention, and we started watching them.

I know they could see us in the window, but they didn't seem to care. They just looked around, occasionally munching a bite of grass. Then one of the barn cats started coming to the house. When she saw the deer, she stopped short and hunkered down. She stared and the deer and they stared back - ah, predator and prey! Well, not exactly.

In fact, one of the deer started toward her to check her out. The deer wasn't worried, but the cat was. She hunkered down even further, but the deer stopped, distracted by something more interesting.

I peered around toward the barn to see if Indy and Ami were catching any of this. They hadn't been there the last time I looked, but they were there now, standing side by side at the fence, ears forward in interest but hardly alarm.

Finally, the deer got bored and wandered away. I'm sure this scenario has happened before, even if the dumb humans didn't see it.

Like I always say, never a dull moment!

Worst Nightmares

After heavy snowfall throughout New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, Mike and I went slogging through the snow yesterday to give Indy and Ami their breakfast on the coldest morning yet this winter. The temperature was all of 9 degrees with a stiff north northwest wind that drove the wind chill well into minus territory.

Wearing my heaviest boots that make me look - and feel - like the Frankenstein Monster, I galumphed behind Mike along the mercifully short distance from the house to the barn. Once inside, we found Ami standing in the front stall, and Indy lying down in the back one. But wait a minute - he's upside down. He's not lying down, he's cast!

Having no idea how long poor Indy might have been trapped like this, Mike and I rushed to help him. In so doing, we ignored everything we both know about working with a cast horse - we grabbed his feet with our hands instead of using ropes. Mike took the back and I took the front. Since Indy was lying with his head almost to the back wall, there wasn't a lot of room for me to get out of his way if we did succeed in getting him free. My left brain was reminding me of all this while my right brain was screaming that Indy was in trouble and we had to help him!

Even considering our saddle fitting adventures, there are times when being round is a good thing. Indy rolled over on his fuzzy barrel as easily as rolling a, well, barrel. He contemplated the situation for a moment, then got to his feet as calmly as if he'd been taking his normal pre-breakfast snooze. Well, this is Indy after all...

I worried that he might be sore from his ordeal even though there weren't signs of a significant struggle in the stall when we found him. And, in true Indy fashion, he said, "What? Me worry?" He was fine, and nothing showed up today either. He was plowing around in the snow like his usual self, obviously enjoying the sun we had today.

All's well that ends well as they say, but I think another little homily might be appropriate as well - Do as I say, not as I do!

Bullseye!

We here in Warsaw, IN certainly dodged a bullet with the ice storms that have plagued so much of the country. We only had one day when it was really slippery, and we never lost power at all. However, we weren't quite so lucky with this last winter storm. It was snow instead of ice - thank goodness! - but little ole Warsaw saw some of the heaviest snowfall of the entire region - some 14 inches, and that's not counting the fact that there was a lot of blowing and drifting...

Even though it wasn't bitter cold, the wind continued to howl the next day, and even Indy seemed a bit intimidated by it all. Later in the day however, I saw him venture out to the gate even though he didn't go outside the paddock. They both seemed content do stay up by the barn and munch hay.

I knew Indy couldn't contain his curiosity for long though. Sure enough, today he was venturing all the way to the cross fence - and there was Ami right behind him. Some of the drifts were knee deep even for him, and he seemed to take pleasure in galloping through them. The more practical Ami just walked.



Actually, the most difficult part was just getting to the barn the first morning. The drifts were impossible to walk through, even for Mike. He couldn't even dent them with a shovel. Finally, he had to pick his way, clearing a path around the drifts. It wasn't the most direct route to the barn, but under the circumstances we weren't complaining!

The barn cats however were complaining. There was a snow drift blocking their regular "kitty entrance" in the front door of the barn. There they were - all 28 of them - sitting right behind the door when we opened it! What a cat-tastrophe!

Even when the kitties got out of the barn, the drifts were too deep for them to maneuver - they just sank! It didn't take them long to discover our path though, and they've been frolicking up and down, to and from the barn ever since.

By now of course, Indy and Ami have their weaving trails all over the pasture. Viewed from upstairs it looks like a bunch of drunks have been wandering around out there. Horses are constitutionally incapable of walking in a straight line. It must be a prey animal thing. They have been enjoying themselves, and that's the important thing. Indy - who was born in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan - says this is the first decent winter he's seen since he moved here to the southland.

Snow Day

Overnight we had our first real snowfall in this crazy winter - some three inches or so. Enough that snow lover Indy was galloping up and down the paddock, flagging and snorting. In other words, having a Total Blast. Even Ami was doing a bit of steam blowing herself.

I'd been planning to start introducing them back into the full pasture soon, and today seemed like the perfect time to start. It's been cold and cloudy for days, and they can't get nearly as much grass under a few inches of snow as they could otherwise.

After we had cleaned the stalls and given them their breakfast Mike went out and opened the gate. Since this gate hadn't been opened since we started keeping them in last spring, it took him a few moments to unfasten it through the snow and ice. Meanwhile, Mr. Indy had lost interest and besides, his hay was calling him. Then Mike got the gate to swing free.

Indy knows to follow my finger when I want to direct his attention. When I pointed he looked back over his shoulder. His ears popped forward, his eyes widened and off he went in a high stepping trot. Ami, who had stayed over nearby had already shot out into the pasture. Whoopee!

And whoopee it was. Almost every time I looked out the kitchen window, there was Indy, galloping up and down, round and round. The whole pasture was covered with their swirling trails in the snow. What utter joy it is to watch them romp and play - just acting like healthy, happy horses.

When they came up for their dinner, we closed the gate for the night. I let them stay out for most of the day, and will do the same tomorrow. If all is well after about a week, they will be completely free for the winter.

They'll have to come back to the paddock in the spring, but for now just watch 'em go!

The Stray

A stray wandered onto our property in the wee hours of Saturday morning. But who hasn't had a stray dog or cat wander onto their yard once in a while? This stray however was a horse - a very small horse.

When we examined him in the daylight, I was sure he was young, but not knowing whether he was a horse or pony made it harder to estimate his age, and I don't claim to be an expert in baby teeth. He was bigger than a mini, but not by a lot. He was a very pretty bay with four white stockings, and he was very friendly. I was worried we might have trouble catching him, but he came right up to us, obviously glad to see us.

At first, we just put him into the field, since Indy and Ami were in the paddocks. They all seemed quite chummy, but I still didn't want to turn a totally strange horse into the paddocks with them - for all kinds of reasons. He ran around a bit at first, but very soon came back close to his new found buds, and they all grazed along together with only a few pesky strands of ElectroBraid separating them.

Later however, I got worried about the amount of grass he was getting. He was already quite chubby, and I know all too well what too much grass can do to certain horses. By now, I had decided he must be some kind of pony, and they are notorious for foundering on grass.

We put Indy and Ami in the large paddock, and brought the little guy into the small one and gave him some hay.





My hubbie, Mike, was trying to put hay in the feeder, but the little guy just couldn't wait. As you can see the little fellow - he's a gelding - was so cute!

We had called the sheriff's department and all our horsy friends, hoping they would know something. No one had reported a missing horse, and none of our friends knew anything off hand, but they all said they would try to find out something. That's one of the many things I love about being a member of the "horse community." Everyone sticks together like glue, and we will do just about anything to help one another and our horses.

Naturally, it was a weekend, and we were afraid the Kid's owner might be out of town or something. We thought surely he hadn't wandered far from home, but it's very rural out here, and he could have wandered accross the fields without being seen from the roads.

I figured he was probably an "only" horse, because horses with pasture buddies almost never wander away from them. He seemed to have formed a bond with Indy and Ami, and he appeared to be perfectly happy just staying here. Unfortunately.

Don't get me wrong - I would have loved to keep the little cutie. But he belonged so someone else, someone who might be as frantic as I would be if it were Indy or Ami that were missing. Besides that, we don't have good shelter for more than two horses, and, global warming or no global warming, it gets cold and nasty here in the winter. Not to mention hot and buggy in the summer. And, last but far from least, I would not able to care for three horses the way I feel they should be cared for - the grooming, the personal attention, and for this baby, the training. Heck, I'm still training Indy under saddle, and that's about all I can manage these days.

Speaking of Indy and Ami... I was so proud of the way they handled this situation! They both befriended the Kid and neither one ever showed a trace of aggression or jealousy. They were a bit excited of course, but not nuts, and even that settled down quickly after the Kid moved into the small paddock.



Indy is only 15.0 hands, but next to this kid he looks like a giant.



Ami is only 13.2 hands, but even she looks big beside the baby.

On Sunday afternoon, Mike decided to take a drive around the "block" - out here that's about an eight mile trip - to see if there were any "lost horse" signs up. I'll bet he hadn't been gone five minutes when the phone rang. It was a guy who asked me if I were "Suzy." When I said I was, he mentioned the name of a mutual friend of ours who thought we might have his pony. He said, "Does he have four white stockings?" and I said, "He sure does!"

He and his brother were there in minutes with a trailer - in fact, they beat Mike back by a few minutes. They had been out of town, and had returned to find the pony missing. They were certainly glad to see him alive and well!

So, that's the saga of our little weekend guest. Since he doesn't live far away, I will probably have the opportunity to see him again. I hope so anyway. As for Indy and Ami, things quickly returned to normal - as you can see.



Oh yeah, Baby is three years old.

Total Meltdown

I'm sure it will come as a surprise to no one that it has been hot here. In fact, this past week has had the most miserably uncomfortable days we've had since we moved to Indiana in 1992.

With the ambient air temp over 90 degrees and the humidity around 90 as well, the heat index has been above 100. Even with fans going in the barn, I get dripping wet, and I'm not a heavy sweater. It just saps the life out of you.

Both Indy and Ami have seemed to be pretty comfortable though. They've been damp, but not dripping, and their hay feeder is in a nice shady spot in the paddock. Well, Indy was dripping one day, but that was because he was galloping up and down the paddock trying to get our attention so we'd come out. Honestly, that boy...

My new saddle will be delivered next Tuesday. Needless to say, I wouldn't have been riding anyway. I think there has been one day since our little "accident" that would have been suitable for trying a ride.

Now, what does one do with a saddle with a broken tree? I certainly wouldn't sell it to anyone. Mike says we should perform an autopsy. Well, why not?

No, I'm Not Making This Up.

Since I last posted, Indy and I have had three great rides - two for 40 minutes and one for 30 minutes. He was super all three times. He's even starting to walk straight to a target instead of weaving all over the place. A great time was had by all.

Last Monday however, things went a little bit wrong... I had Indy all saddled, and he was standing beside me - as he always does - and I looked a way a moment to say something to Mike. In the meantime, for some reason Indy decided he needed to go to the back of Ami's stall. Ami was still tied there, so she backed up and Indy went under her tie rope.

Don't ask me how he managed this - I have no idea. It only took a second and there he was, the saddle horn hooked onto her tie rope, pulling it into a V with Ami on one side and her tie ring on the other. She pulled back, the fuse on her safety halter snapped and it was all over before Mike or I could even try to grab the quick release knot and untie her.

Ami then strolled on out of the barn, and Indy didn't seem to know anything had even happened. All's well that ends well, right? Unfortunately, this wasn't the end. As I took Indy out to start our ride, I noticed that the saddle looked a bit, um, odd. The cantle and pommel were much too high and the seat was considerably shorter and deeper than it was when I put it on him.

Yep, the tree was broken right behind the foregirth. I couldn't believe it! Just the right combination of pressure and torque, jerking the tree against the unyielding foregirth. Unbelievable.

For those non-horse people, a saddle with a damaged tree is like a car with a damaged A-frame. Totaled. Period.

Since I do love this saddle, and besides, it's the only one I tried that fit Indy, there's nothing to do but get another one... At least I won't need the pad, fenders, leather stirrups and Bates rig. One must look on the bright side - if one can find a bright side that is.

Just kidding - sorta - since Indy and Ami were not only OK, they demonstrated what Cool Characters they both are. Plus, it's been way too hot to ride the last couple of days anyway.

An Actual RIDE!

Wow! I can hardly believe it - I actually got a ride in yesterday. It's been almost a year, and it sure felt good to be back up.

Even though Indy's still so green, he hadn't forgotten a thing, and we picked up right where we stopped last fall when it started raining, and raining, and raining, and raining...

We rode in the small paddock for the first time, and it worked out OK. When I get ready to ride Indy out into the larger pasture, we can just go out the new gate and we won't have to worry about Ami trying to follow us. She's not going to like it no matter how I handle it. She didn't like us riding in the paddock, and she could see us the entire time. LOL! Ami is so worried about Indy leaving her. I'm going to take it very easy and stay in sight until she learns to accept it like she did with DJ. Poor girl, she was so traumatized when we lost DJ - but then, so was I...

It was very hot yesterday, so I kept the ride to 15 minutes - for both our sakes! I hope to ride again this afternoon for about the same length of time. It may be a few degrees cooler. I hope so. Actually, the heat and sun bother me a lot more than the do Indy. But, his back is still not accustomed to wearing a saddle for long periods of time, and the very last thing I want to do is make him sore.

It was so wonderful to be riding again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for this afternoon too.

30 Years Of Horses

This summer will mark a very special anniversary for me – my 30th year as a horse owner. For a big city kid like myself, who always thought owning a horse was a real Impossible Dream, this is quite an anniversary indeed.

I was one of those storied little girls who was born in love with horses. I always loved all animals, but horses… There was always something special – magical – about them that I could never put into words. Even now I can’t express the feeling, and I think that only others who are blessed – or cursed! – with the “horse gene” can ever fully understand. I loved horses so much in fact, that I deliberately stayed away from them because it was just too painful to see them and not be able to touch or interact with them. We lived in Dallas TX – and I never even had the opportunity to ride at all, much less anything more.

Finally, in 1977 – when I was working full time and had my own money – it occurred to me that I could at least check out the possibilities at some of the boarding stables in Dallas. And, as it turned out, I would be able – just barely – to afford to board a horse at a wonderful place – White Rock Stables - only about ten miles from my home.

Now, all I needed to do was find a horse suitable for a timid adult who was so inexperienced I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. Fortunately for me, the owner of the stable, Tex Oddson Sr., had a horse that he thought would be perfect for me. I was dreaming of getting a Morgan, but given my total lack of experience, I ended up taking Tex up on his offer – a 16 year old very well bred black Quarter Horse named Sirron. He sold him to me for $500, and it was the best money I ever spent.

Even at sixteen, Sirron was worth a lot more than $500. In fact, he was priceless. He knew everything, and he was perfectly happy to teach it all to me. He was fearless on the trail, and he was willing to tackle things he’d never been asked to do before – like dressage and jumping. He was perfect, and how I adored him!


He’s not showing great jumping form in this shot, but neither am I. Besides we were only jumping one bale of hay.

Sirron’s health had always been perfect, and he acted and looked more like an eight year old than a sixteen year old. By all rights, we should have had ten years or even more together. In fact, we only had five.

I truly thought my heart would break when I lost Sirron. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that I had no intention of giving up on horses. I would gladly have kept Sirron forever, but since that couldn’t be, I decided to go for that Morgan I’d always dreamed of having.

The Morgan is a small breed. There are probably more Quarter Horses in Texas than there are Morgans in the entire world. This being the case, you have a small base to choose from, and prices are rather high. Undaunted, I pursued my dream, and I found him. In just a few weeks, I found him in Ardmore, OK, just about 150 miles from home. His name was Runcheck Dear John, a beautiful flaxen dark chestnut. He was younger than I’d planned – just turned four. He had very little training – definitely not what I’d planned on. He also cost more than I’d planned on… But, the moment our eyes met, he and I both knew we were meant for each other. Hey, you can’t fight destiny.


A Competitive Trail Ride near the Brazos River in Texas.

I called him DJ, and we did everything together for 20 years. We went on trail rides, both Competitive and pleasure, and he was always perfect. He loved the trails so much he never wanted to quit. He’d walk right past the trailer and start out on another trail! Every trail rider around Texas and Oklahoma in the mid-80s knew DJ. People would come running up to my trailer when I pulled in shouting, “Hi, DJ!”

We also took semi-regular dressage lessons – weather permitting. DJ was quite good at dressage, even if he didn’t like it as well as trail riding. :o)

I boarded him at the same stable in Dallas for ten years. Then, I got married and a couple of years later – 1992 – my husband and I purchased some acreage in his native Indiana. We packed up DJ, the dogs and all our stuff and moved to our “farm” – 24 acres and it was all ours! Finally! My own land with DJ just outside the back door. Heaven!

Since horses, being herd animals, are much happier with another horse as a companion. Within a few months we found her. The neighbor who was cutting and bailing our hay for us had a champion cutting Quarter Horse stallion that had been bred to a Quarter Horse/pony mare, and he had a yearling filly for sale.

Once again, it was love at first sight. She was bay and cute as a bug – totally irresistible. She didn’t really have a name, so I named her – Petite Ami, DJ’s little friend. And a friend she was. DJ’s relationships with other horses were always problematic. I think something must have happened to him before I got him that made him mistrustful of horses he didn’t know well. He seemed to like mares though, which is why I got a mare instead of another gelding. It worked, and he and Ami shared many happy hours grazing and just hanging out together.


Ami the kid.

DJ and I took it a bit easier in the second decade of our partnership. We rode in local parades – he loved to strut his stuff – and went on day rides with the local saddle club. We spent a lot of time just tooling around our own property – which was a nice ride in itself. And, we spent a lot of time just hanging out together.

We hung out in Dallas too, but I always had to have him on a halter and lead. Here, he was free to come and go, and if he hung out with me it was because it was his choice to do so. We had been very close before, but here our relationship developed into something much more profound. I tried not to think about I would do when I lost him…

No living thing is immortal, not even my Mighty DJ. He died with his head in my arms in 2002, just a few weeks short of his 25th birthday and our 20th anniversary. He’s now resting peacefully in his beloved pasture.

Right or wrong, losing DJ brought me the most astounding pain I’ve ever suffered in my life. The emptiness was overwhelming; the knowledge that I’d never hear his nicker or sit on his broad back again was unbearable.

From my experience with Sirron, I knew the only way I could help myself was to start searching for another horse ASAP. Besides, Ami was missing her buddy. It was heartbreaking to watch her looking for him and hearing her calling for him day and night. I tried to comfort her, but she’s not the type of horse who bonds with humans that closely, and I couldn’t help her much.

From my long years with DJ, I knew I had to have another Morgan. Of course, I was then confronted with the same obstacles I encountered in 1982 – few to choose from and price. However, I did have a couple of tools I did not have in ’82 – the network of Morgan breeders and owners I’d developed over the years and the Internet.

I was having a lot of trouble sleeping, so I spent the nights surfing the Net for horses. I’m not sure how I happened to hit the link to Valley Stables in Michigan, but I did and there he was. His name was VS Golden Desperado – barn name Indy – and he was my horse. He was about the same age that DJ was when I got him. He had about the same amount of training – or lack thereof! He even cost the same. And, as it turned out, he also has a personality quite similar to DJ’s – only even more inquisitive and mischievous, if that’s possible. For the details of my early adventures with Indy, see the archives of this Journal, for it started with him.


Indy and Ami – Love at first sight! For ALL of us

What’s ahead? I have no idea. All I know is that Indy and Ami – and Sirron and DJ – have enriched my life in ways that I would never have imagined without them. Here’s to the next 30 years.


Welcome To My World

Safer Grass

This is Indy's pasture mate, Ami. She is a Quarter Horse/pony mix mare that I have had since 1992 when she was a yearling - see picture below. What a cutie!



Originally, she was DJ's pasture mate after we moved him from Dallas to here in Indiana. They were great buddies, and she grieved for him almost as much as I did when we lost him in 2002 at the age of 25.

Fortunately, she and Indy hit it off from the very beginning - 2002 - and she's doing great at the age of 14.



She's had more than her share of problems though. In the summer of '95 she developed laminitis, appearantly from grass. And that's the point of this post. We almost lost Ami, and even though she recovered, she suffered horrifying pain, and has had intermittent problems with bruised soles and abscesses ever since. We must be extremely careful in the spring, summer and fall to be sure Ami doesn't get much grass. One bite too much, and she will come up sore - again. Laminitis is nothing to fool with. It is still the number two killer of horses - after colic - and the number one crippler.



Ami is hardly the only horse that cannot tolerate unlimited grass. In fact, it seems to be the norm rather than the exception these days. It is especially common among ponies and the easy keeping breeds such as Morgans - which means I have to keep a close eye on Indy too.

But, but... aren't horses supposed to eat grass? Isn't that the food they evolved on and have been eating for millennia? Yes and no.

The natural food of the horse is grass - just not "modern" grass. The grass species that we have available these days were developed specifically to fatten beef cattle and to allow dairy cattle to produce more milk. They are very high in sugar and starch. While cattle can tolerate this forage much better than horses, there is still much doubt about how healthful it would be for them long term. Since most cattle, even dairy, have a productive lifespan of about five or six years, they can't be compared with horses which are expected to perform for thirty years or more.

The specific culprits in the grasses seem to be a class of sugars called "fructans," and the manner in which they ferment in the horse's gut. The research on all this is very new, and there is a great deal yet to be learned about why today's horses can't safely eat their natural food. Even forage specialists and equine nutritionists don't fully understand the problem. Some in fact don't even realize there is a problem.

If you own a chubby, easy keeper like Ami, or any pony, Morgan or other "easy keeper" breed, I urge you to click on the link in this title and visit Katy Watts' site safergrass.org. She is an agronomist who owns horses that founder on grass. Her research is ground breaking and offers critical information for those of us who want to best for our pudgy equine pals.

That link will also be permanently displayed in my Other Links of Interest area. Please check it out. The horse you save might be your own.