Amyra, on the fourth day

The camera was in my pocket on Tuesday afternoon when Amyra got herself stuck.  Guess I'd never make it as a reporter, because I didn't stop along the way to document the untangling process.  But I did get one picture after I had her all undone and doctored.

Here's the same foot this morning.  The black stuff mostly dust stuck to the wound spray and feet wet the from dew/heavy fog we had overnight.  There's some scabbing at the back, but she completely ignored my prodding at it, so apparently it's not sore.

From the left (outside, same as above)

From the back

From the front

From the right (inside)

 Still can't believe how incredibly lucky we were!

What's on your gift list?

What's on your horsey wish-list this year?  I'm guessing like me, you probably have a running list of necessary, would-like, and when-I-win-the-lottery tack room & horse gear tucked away somewhere in your brain.  Here's hoping some of those items will end up under your tree or decorating your four-foot (or you) after the holidays. 

Me?  It's no secret around our house that horse-something is always appreciated.  But every year about this time T announces, "I don't want anything for Christmas.  Nothing.  Christmas is too commercialized."  (He does this for birthdays, too.  And of course I get him something anyway.)   And before you start thinking, oh, he must just really like surprising me, or that he really hates shopping in general, nope. That's not it.  

I suspect in his mind, if I don't get him anything, he doesn't have to shop for me.  To be fair, it's more likely the trauma of past gifts given: jewelry (I've never worn any of it), the new cell phone (it went back), the perfume (made me sneeze, reference jewelry above)... see where I'm going with this? 

For my birthday this year, we got a new coffee maker.  I picked it out.  As copious amounts of strong black caffeine help keep other people safe (from me) in the pre-dawn hours, it was the perfect gift.  Although we agreed it was my birthday present after our previous one died the morning before my birthday....

But really, I'm not that hard to shop for, honest.  The perfect gift doesn't have to be expensive, sparkly, or even require braving the mall or that store, initials VS, full of lacy things, that shall not be named.  I'm even okay with gifts of small power tools - or would be, if T didn't already own most of the ones I can name and more that I can't!  But you be the judge; here are a few items that made my Christmas list this year, several of which can actually be found at the local lumberyard:

• A saucer.  Not the teacup kind, the outdoor, fun in the snow kind you can tie a nice long rope to.  Given snow, I think Sunny would be a perfectly lovely saucer-towing pony.  At least, I'd like to give it a try.
• Weave/pole-bending set of 8 poles.  Admittedly, a more time consuming present, but with a few empty coffee cans - we have those (!) - some quick-set concrete, and a few lengths of PVC, not overly spendy.
• A pair of large C-clamps.  My own set, for moving the trailer mats, that way I don't have to dig through the tool box (and remember to return) a borrowed set from the workshop when I deep clean the trailer.
• A trailer mat.  A new one for outside the barn, one under the loft door for dropping hay out onto.  Yes, this is on my to-be-purchased list anyway, but it would be a lovely early gift, and he'd definitely get credit.
• New lead ropes.  Several of the old ones are really ratty, and I'd love a couple more of the long, thick, cotton kind with bull snaps.  Not available at the lumberyard, but I'd take an IOU in my stocking.
• A battery-operated portable radio.  For the granary/barn/orchard riding.  With good speakers, and maybe a port to plug in my MP3 player if I wanted to ride to a particular playlist.
• Flavored coffee.  Not horse related you say? But since it's lovely, lovely caffeine, or the promise of it when I come in, that propels my butt out the door to do chores in the morning, and I'm the one that drinks the flavored stuff, it counts.  And that's grocery shopping. 
• Horse treats.  Always acceptable.  The (Sunny-approved) gift that keeps on giving.

(We won't mention the gorgeous saddle rack I spotted on Pinterest that I know he's more than capable of making for me.  And yes, I hinted. Well, actually, I came right out and said, "Hey honey, look what I found!  Why don't you build me this, with wheels, for your next project!  It would be  a perfect gift!")

So anyway, this year when he started bemoaning the shopping aspect taking over the spirit of Christmas,  I called bull.  "You just don't want to shop for me.  Because you and I both know you'll get the kids and your mom something."  LOL!  Yep. 

T's right, of course, it's not all about the presents, but this list is going up on the fridge. :)

Review: Bandage Cutter/Hoof Pick

Combo Bandage Cutter/Hoof Pick:  After a week of trying not to stab myself or Rufus with short, pointy-ended scissors, while attempting to remove firmly adhered to itself Vetrap, I was thrilled to find an inexpensive dual ended bandage cutter/hoof pick.

At less than $3, it was a bargain, and it really worked, at least initially.

It ended up costing about $1 per month. Because after the third month of twice daily use, the blade is very, very dull.  And unfortunately, it isn't replaceable.  But still not a bad deal, especially if you don't intend to use it as frequently, or only intend to need it frequently for a short time.

The hoof pick is... sort of okay as long as you're not attempting to dislodge packed dirt, gravel, or dried on mud.  Or gooey mud.  So basically it works well on anything soft that falls out easily.  Like horse manure.  Otherwise, the end bends.   I haven't broken it yet though.

The cutter is far, far better than scissors for removing Vetrap, it was much harder to stab Rufus accidentally.  It is more difficult to cut myself (although I can still manage), but also amazingly easy to separate myself from a stray lock of hair.  Yes, my hair has gotten that long, and no, I don't always have it tied back when I do chores.  Probably not an issue you need to worry about if you're more attentive, remember a hair tie, or have short hair.


I'm going to try a Multi-Cutter next - maybe it will be a bit more durable.

Yay, hay!

Upwards of 15,000 lbs. of small squares trailed me home last night.

The big round bales have been here for a while, but having some small squares stored in the barn is never a bad thing.  Especially given how cold the weather has turned this fall!  We stacked 60 up in the loft this summer, and another 200 will be joining them on Saturday.  Really nice grass hay, averaging about 77 lbs. a bale, and decently priced, too. 

A bit of cushion if winter hangs around into spring.

One of the guys at work puts it up, and he does a  fabulous job - nice, tight, evenly  packed, sweet smelling bales, all stored under cover.  The horses loved the ones I bought from him last year.  Not to mention how super-convenient it is to have to-work delivery - last year I only got 50 bales, so I just picked it up in the horse trailer.  This time since with the larger amount, he loaded it (he has a bale mover attachment for his skidsteer that will grab 12 bales at a time - and boy howdy, would I love one of those!) onto his big flatbed and pulled the trailer in to work.  Much easier to just hook on and drag it home from there.

He ran the whole shebang across the scale on the way into town: his truck (1 ton Dodge dually, same as ours) & loaded trailer weighed in at upwards of 33,000 lbs.  Which was kind of fun to pull.  I haven't driven with a load that heavy on before.

Out of curiosity, what's hay running in your neck of the woods?  We paid $50 per net-wrapped, big rounds of prairie/mixed grass hay - not sure what they weigh in at, but I'm guessing somewhere in the 900-1100 lb. range based on how tight they're baled & how hard the skidsteer works to move them.  That's about average for here.  The small squares were $4.50 a bale, which again is about average based on what's listed on the HayExchange for Kansas ($3.75-$5.00/bale for grass hay).  

(Stay tuned for further adventures as we actually get the bales stacked in the loft!)

Stay Calm and Locate the Channel Locks

Stayed home sick from work yesterday, only the second one I've used since April of 2013.  I made it through morning chores with a splitting headache and one emergency run to the house for the bathroom, and decided crawling back into bed was the wisest course of action.  I hate being sick.  Divine providence at work, though. 

Because when I finally crawled out of bed at noon feeling much more human and less like body parts above my neck were going to fall off, I counted only three horses clustered together in the orchard.  Thunder, Sunny, and Rufus.  Hmmmm....  Not the normal trio (Sunny, Amyra, Thunder) plus one (Rufus) that's the usual make-up of the afternoon sun worshipers.  But the boys didn't look fussed so, I thought, she could be over eating hay at the feeder by herself, which has been known to happen.

About 1 o'clock I went out to hang a load of laundry and again counted the same three horses.  And there was whinnying, which I hadn't been able to hear from inside.  Okay, the whinnying was Sunny, who does whinny pretty much whenever the house door opens because, hey, there's a slim chance it means he's going to get fed.  But still.  And when I looked, Amyra wasn't by the feeder, and she wasn't drinking.   A quick survey of the orchard didn't turn her up; she wasn't hiding behind the pecan tree or dozing by the barn.

When I did finally spot her, my stomach flipped over.  She was up in a corner of the creek pasture, not that far from the barn geographically speaking, but definitely not somewhere she would stay of her own volition with the boys down in the orchard. And in that stationary horse position that screams, "I don't want to try to move, because I can't move."

All four feet were solidly on the ground, she was alert and looking my way, so my first thought was she'd somehow found a tangle of old wire to get stuck in.  (Despite my best efforts, every now and then one seems to roll magically out of nowhere.)  But no, it was better than that, at least marginally.  She'd managed - in that incredibly how the H-E-double-hockey-sticks??? fashion that horses do - to get one hind foot stuck in a loop of wire cable. You know, the thick kind that gets used to anchor power poles? Yep.  That kind.

Stapled to a big fence post just below dirt level, and why it was left on, I haven't the faintest.  I didn't see it when I walked the fences earlier this month (or last year, either, 'cause it surely didn't just now materialize) and Amyra caught her foot in the very end of a 15' stretch of it.  She must have stepped into it somehow, and then like a rabbit in a trap, pulled, and the twist that formed the loop tightened down until it wouldn't slide back down over her hoof.  And of course, right in the corner where two sections of barbwire meet.  Yes, I know, barbwire  + horses = bad news, but it's a COW pasture I keep being told.  Sigh. 

She wasn't panicked, thankfully, just ticked to be stuck.  And not best pleased at being deserted by the boys.  I ran back to the barn after a halter & lead, channel locks (because no way were bare hands or light pliers going to do the trick), and the wire cutters just in case she decided now was the right time to back into the fence, start kicking, and get tangled up in it, too.

Oh, and treats and the clicker.  And that proved to be the trick.  Once she determined that standing still while I untwisted the three-times-wound-around end, one twist at a time, with the channel locks so she could step out got her a clicker-reward, she was stationary.  No kicking, no fussing, just the occasional butt-sniff to see what I was up to.

Five minutes - that felt like 50, let me tell you - and she was loose.  I led her back, let her get a drink, tied her up and examined the damage - completely superficial, thank you, thank you, thank you! - and applied some topical wound spray to what basically amounted to a rub mark and one scrape on the opposite leg from the cable end.  Tolerating me poking and prodding got her some more clicks/treats, which she definitely didn't mind.  When I put her back in with the boys she had another drink and headed over to the feeder without any more fuss and no trace of soreness.
 
And THEN I spent the next five minutes sitting on the well house with my head between my knees until my stomach decided to behave.  So grateful I was home sick.  Not to mention that:

1. We've done rope work, so she didn't freak out when her foot wouldn't come loose
2. If she had to get stuck in something, the cable was nice and thick and left a few surface scrapes, but no worse damage
3. We've apparently established enough of a rapport that even though every time I pried on the cable it dug into her, she tolerated it because she trusted that I was helping.  Well, that or she just really liked the treats...

Saying my Thanksgiving thank-yous a bit early this year, that's for sure!