Nantua Farm Blog

Last night our farm dog, Dakota passed away in her sleep. We are going to miss her terribly and the barn isn’t going to be the same without her. Everyone, including our other 2 dogs and the barn cat, Lily, are mourning her loss, and, although I’d never thought I’d say this, I’ve already begun to miss her collie yipps whenever she saw the least bit of movement out the window. You were a special treat in our lives and I sincerely hope that your last few days were wonderful. Unfortunately, she had severe arthritis in her spine and all 4 legs, to the point where she was barely able to walk without pain medication and so we’d been working with the vet to get her comfortable, all with the understanding that if we were unable, we would put her down so she wouldn’t have to be in pain. Yesterday, I thought we’d gotten it figured out, as she was bounding around like a young dog again. But you never know everything that goes on and reasons why things happen. All I know is that she felt really good for her last 24 hours. So wherever you are, Dakota baby, we miss you and hope that you’re in a better place now where there is no such thing as pain and you can play with Bailey all day long. We will always remember and love you.

A good friend of mine, Tom Foley, who also just happens to be an extraordinary writer and rider, has written a book about his life as a jockey which is due to be released on October 8, 2010. He is currently on his book tour and will be at Joseph-Beth Booksellers at the Lexington Green Mall on Saturday, Oct, 2nd from 2-4 PM for a signing where he will also be speaking about the book, his life, and his experience starring in the new Disney blockbuster “Secretariat” as Jimmy Gaffney, Secretariat’s exercise rider. If you’ve ever wondered what life as a jockey is like, please join me at Joseph-Beth from 2-4 PM on Saturday! While you will have an opportunity to purchase his book, “The Simple Game,” at the signing on October 2nd (and, of course, get it signed), you can also order it at http://www.caballopress.com/TheSimpleGame.html or through Barnes and Noble. Below is a small excerpt from Chapter One of this amazing book:

          There were no tears in his eyes. Tobey Maguire, the actor, raised his head and looked into the mirror. Sure, he had the distressed look on his face, but there were no tears; trust me there is always tears. Maguire was playing the part of jockey Red Pollard in the movie Seabiscuit and was purging himself of his last meal in an attempt to lose weight.       

          What Maguire was doing is sadly enough my area of expertise and has been a ritual I have performed many times a day for the last few years. I am an expert at the rite of purging so I can tell you that there should have been tears.       

          Watching Maguire, I felt cheated. I mean, here was a guy getting paid millions to play this part, and I felt for that kind of money he could have at least shed a few tears. Hell, myself and sixty-percent of the jockeys riding in this country do it everyday, we do it and brush back the tears just to get our shot at riding a winner or making a decent paycheck.       

          Our tears are not shed in pain or anguish, our tear ducts tear up in order to clear themselves out as you do this to your body. We call it “flipping” or “heaving” and it runs rampant and unchecked throughout every horse track in the world. The practice is not even frowned upon; it’s catered to.       

          Most jockey quarters have a special toilet that is square and has handles on both ends. They’re called  “flipping bowls”. This toilet is solely there for performing the act. Most jock room toilets will have four stalls. One through three will have a sign posted inside reading “no flipping in these stalls,” yet magic door number four will get all the action.       

          It’s not uncommon to see riders lined up waiting to use that certain stall one after another and making jokes about the guy inside who is making ungodly noises. I’ve made these jokes myself as a way to keep my mind off of what I was going to do when my turn came. The odd thing about it was that we would just stand in line waiting and not use the other toilets. Looking at it now, it’s funny when I realize that we even had rules for bulimia.       

          So how do you become a flipper? For me it was easy. I was at dinner with a few riders, and at the time I was trying to do it right and stick to a diet and use my head. I noticed that most of the other guys were tearing into these huge meals. They didn’t seem bothered by the fact that they had to make weight the next day. My curiosity grew to the point that I had to ask, “How can you eat all that and keep your weight in check?”       

          Big mistake, as the answer I was about to hear would change my whole world and lead me down a road that eventually meant the loss of my passion for racing, a passion I am now trying to desperately rediscover.       

          “I don’t keep it” was the answer.       

          “What do you mean you don’t keep it? What do you do with it?” I asked.       

          “Easy,” my buddy said smiling at me, “I flip.”       

          As with most things in life, one question lead to another. “How do you do it?”       

          This got a few laughs from the five jocks at the table as it’s not exactly rocket science, but the answers I was about to get revealed that there was a lot more to this than one would think. Hard lessons as well as trial and error had made this simple procedure of flipping an art form, and I was about to be given the crash course version.       

          “First thing, kid, drink plenty of soda. You’re going to need it to push everything in your belly back up.”       

          This introductory statement was followed by one lesson after another. Things like never eat chunky solid food as it hurts coming up, or avoid spaghetti as it can stick in your throat. As these facts started flying at me from all sides, I made a mental checklist. Pretty soon, one of the older guys took over and laid it all out.       

          “Eat ‘til you feel like popping,” he said pointing his fork at me, “as it will help when you reach for it. You drink your sodas and when you’re loaded up hit the john and get yourself in a crouch; kinda like your riding position and just reach in and push on your tonsils a bit and the rest will happen.”       

          Even though all the jocks seemed fine with the idea of flipping some part of me wasn’t. I knew it was wrong.       

          I didn’t grow up in a household that tolerated wastefulness and really that’s all flipping was; wastefulness.       

          Before the night was over, however, I decided to give it a try. I didn’t feel comfortable having my first time trying it to be in a crowded restaurant so I decided to wait until I got home.       

          Leaving dinner, I stopped at a gas station and armed myself with the tools needed to perform the act. I didn’t want to try anything solid because you never know how it will turn out, and God forbid I didn’t drink enough soda and choked on something. Ice cream seemed the way to go. Two quarts of the stuff and a few sodas, and I was on my way.       

          Like most things in life, you never forget your first time. I downed all the supplies and headed to the bathroom. Assuming the position, I reached in and did as instructed. For some reason it came up easy and the idiot kid in me realized that I could have the best of both worlds: I could eat what I wanted, and all I needed to do was flip. It was like you see in cartoons when a good idea is had; a giant light bulb lights up. It was very much like that; the sad part is that the light bulb would burn out, as would I over the coming years.

[Copyright Caballo Press of Ann Arbor, 2010]

Tom Foley’s words will make an impression upon your heart and soul. Since Tom has been a close friend of mine for years, I’ve heard some of his stories from the track here and there, and this book takes those experiences and makes them come to life… putting you there as though you were experiencing them yourself. Don’t miss out reading this book. It will give you a look into a life that many of us wonder, dream and often romanticize… So be sure to spread the word about this book, it isn’t one to miss!

Also, if you’re able to make it to the signing at Joseph-Beth Booksellers on Saturday, October 2nd, Keith Austin and Grant Whitacre, two other actors from the new Disney feature film “Secretariat” that starred in the movie with Tom will also be on hand to talk and answer questions. So, please join us! It’s going to be a blast! If you have any questions, feel free to contact me at lindsey@nantuafarm.com… And make sure to invite your friends, the more the merrier!

Well, part of the reason I’ve slacked in the posting is because I GOT A JOB AT PARK EQUINE HOSPITAL as a vet tech! Whoohoo! I’m getting a bunch of hours and absolutely loving it! I couldn’t ask for better co-workers and bosses. And the vets, well, they are fantastic! Currently we have Dr. John Park DVM, Dr. John Amyx DVM, Dr. Travis McVey DVM, and Dr. Nate Newton DVM… We will be getting a 5th vet sometime this month, which we are looking forward to… While I have worked with vets in the past and seen some amazing things and some really sad things, this is the first time where it is not only my job but also a major step towards my goal of becoming a large animal vet. While I am exhausted (I’m currently working nights and at least 40 hours/week and squeezing riding in whenever I have a free moment) I’m truly loving it and learning so much. So, while I hate to sound like I’m selling something, if you’re looking for a vet in the larger Lexington, KY area, please give us a call as I honestly haven’t met a group of vets who are so amazingly concerned for their clients horses. We look out for your equine partner when times get tough and care for them like they were our own. While Park Equine specializes in thoroughbreds, quarter horses and other gaited breeds, PEH has begun to make their name with sporthorses and through word of mouth that portion of our clientele has begun to grow. If you need a vet, regardless of your horse’s breed or discipline, give us a call! We also hope to be moving to a new and improved facility off of Paris Pike sometime this fall, which we ALL cannot wait for! We also have plenty of contacts if you are currently searching for a farrier, chiropractor, massage therapist, etc.! So visit Park Equine Hospital’s website or give them a call at (859) 744-4030!

Sadly, we had to say goodbye to Bailey, our 11 year old cocker spaniel, yesterday afternoon. She was diagnosed with blastomycosis pneumonia, a very rare and horrible disease that dogs can be susceptible to in this area of the country. The treatment for blasto is harsh and doesn’t have a huge survival rate, so we chose to put her down yesterday afternoon instead of putting her through an expensive and painful treatment that could possibly not even work (and also can have a high level of reoccurence). It was a tough decision as it was very unexpected, but we didn’t want her to suffer. She had stopped eating and was having trouble breathing, so we knew it was time. It is weird at home without her and the small things are what seem to bother me the most since she has gone, but at least we have Dakota, Murphy and Jake to keep us busy… Rest in peace, Bailey, you were loved more than you could ever know and will be missed.

Well, Bill did it again. This time I’m not quite sure if all of his brain cells were firing… I’m standing in the aisle, pulling Blue’s mane, when all of a sudden I hear this “harrumphing” behind me. As a preface, I want to add that we’d put up a stall chain across Bill’s stall so that we can pick his stall (with him in it) without a Bill escape… something of a normal experience as we have an “Oh Sh*t Bucket” (thanks to my friend and trainer, Jennifer… she also happens to be Bill’s previous owner, so she knows a thing or two about his antics) within grabbing distance in entrance to the tack room. And yes, because of darling Bill. Anyways, stupid me, I didn’t close his stall gate, just left him in his stall with the stall chain up as I was IN the barn with both of the end doors to the barn CLOSED so there wasn’t even anywhere interesting to go. Well, I guess Bill didn’t care, because as soon as I hear the funny noises, I turn to find Bill… stuck. He’d managed to get his head under the stall chain and one foot over the cement threshold. The look in his eye was priceless as he knew he was stuck…! So I jam the pulling comb into my pants pocket and go over to the dummy, lift his jammed leg (his bad leg, of course, which is why I didn’t take a picture… still kicking myself for that though) back over the threshold and he was able to pull his head back into his stall. At this point, I burst into laughter. I just couldn’t control myself. I mean, this 1,200 lb animal who is DAMN smart just got stuck trying to outsmart me while my back was turned and got CAUGHT! As my laughter got louder and more hysterical, Bill gave me this look saying, “Shut up, I will remember this and I am so gonna pay you back…” Haven’t received the payback yet, although I’m sure it’s in the works.

Well, spring has finally sprung here at Nantua Farm and boy are the horses glad! Literally overnight the grass went from a nasty shade of brown to emerald green… absolutely amazing! And… the horse got to go out “just skins” as we like to say. I don’t think I’ve seen such happy boys in months! We had all of that bucking and rearing and a whole lot of rolling in the mud until they all took off like they were at the races. I believe I counted 5 times around our 10 acre pasture before the muddy monsters became too tired to try to beat each other (Blue, despite having just gotten over the bug from hell, still ended up beating everyone each time around… that winning instinct is just too strong, guess that’s why he raced for eight years). It was then that they all suddenly discovered this amazingly green grass beneath their feet. I don’t think I saw them lift up their heads for the rest of the day! And when it came time for dinner, a time when there is usually a line at the gate, they were all over on the far hill… eating and sunbathing. What a life! Finally after screaming “dinner” for the eight millionth time (our neighbors must think I’m nuts), a stampede of horse came galloping up to the gate. It all made for a long and dirty day (as those muddy monsters were now dried dirt monsters that was all curried off onto me), but the sun was shining, there was no snow on the ground and I didn’t have to drain the hose…. All in all, a very good day in my book!

Ok, so February has been a looong month due to weather and, well, Blue. Seems there is something “going around” the horse population that has yet to be identified and Blue, of course, got it… bad. Scared the crap out of us all here at Nantua Farm.

It all started out with him just not acting like himself which progressed into major lethargy and a temp of 103.7 (if you don’t know horses, normal is between 99 and 101, although Bluey is as normal as a clock and is ALWAYS between 99.5 and 100). Then he came off of his grain which is SO NOT like Blue, my big vacuum cleaner. So we called our amazing vet out for the first time in this little adventure and he started him on IV Oxytet (an antibiotic) and IV Banamine (to bring his temp down) and drew blood work.

Well, besides being a little anemic, the blood work was normal and so we waited. He got marginally better and then a few days later his right hock swelled to the size of a soccer ball. Second vet call (cha ching cha ching). The weird thing was that he’d been on stall rest, so there was no possible way that he’d been kicked or really nailed by someone playing and other than a spot that looked more like skin sloughing off, there was no wound… It was just a hmmm, what the? situation all around. And he had 100% normal x-rays, too… but, of course he would, right? So then I began sweating and wrapping both hind legs… in addition to everything else I was already doing. And yes, it’s still below freezing out (ever tried sweat wrapping legs with thick winter gloves on or numb fingers because you decided to forfeit the gloves for dexterity?).

Then it got pretty darn serious. His temp spiked really high again along with a relatively strong digital pulse in both front feet and my vet came out for the third time (as you can imagine, I can see a mental cash register going cha ching cha ching each time and all I want to do is moan). This time we put in a catheter and started him on IV Oxytet (for 14 days this time), IV Banamine and IV Dex as well as soaking his front feet 2x/day in order to try and prevent a case of laminitis, which was a constant fear.

As a side note, you have to remember that somehow Blue never seems to be helpful enough to at least get sick when the temperatures are ABOVE freezing… Nooo, thanks to the 20 degree daily highs, I had to heat up a microwaveable heating pad and put it in a cooler just to keep all of the IV’s I’d drawn up from freezing before I was able to administer them!

Finally, within maybe 24 hours his temp broke, the lethargy lifted and the digital pulses disappeared and the old Blue began to come back (this is maybe 3-4 weeks after this all began). Slowly but surely he began calling for his dinner again and playing like a yearling out in the pasture (once he was released from his turnout with Charlie in the tiny 3/4 acre paddock to his normal haunting grounds of a 10 acre pasture) with his two best buds Charlie and Vaquero.

And, of course, through it all, poor Charlie Brown had to stay in with him or he would’ve just stall walked all day… Which was OK with Charlie for the first day, but after that… Well, let’s just say that he’s not so keen on being kept in for an extended period of time. ESPECIALLY when there’s fun white stuff on the ground!

Anyways, Blue’s now back to 100%, but because he was SO sick, he lost a good deal of his muscle tone and, as soon as it stops raining and snowing here in the Bluegrass, he will be LIVING on the lunge line in a surcingle with side reins. Just need to get my Bluey back in form before show season!!! One thing I did figure out through all of this, is that I can’t finish vet school soon enough as I need to get on the other side of this damn payment plan. I swear I must’ve bought my vet a new truck already this year! I also want to say a huge thank you to my vet, Dr. Travis McVey at Park Equine Hospital and to my friend, Amanda, for helping talk me through this, keeping me sane, being my “assistant” while doctoring poor Bluey (Amanda) and giving amazing veterinary care (Travis). At least I’m finally on the other side and can watch him romping out in the huge pasture with his friends! So now on to the last hurdle… to open the bill I just got in the mail today from the vet clinic… gulp.

Dylan is a 4 year old 15.3 hh paint gelding (registration with APHA pending). Experienced foxhunter who has hunted with Greenspring and Elkridge Harford Hunt Clubs in Maryland as well as Blue Ridge in Virginia, he goes quietly in a snaffle, although he has PLENTY of jump in him. Dead quiet, but due to his big jump, he really isn’t the right fit for a green rider. Dylan has shown locally and can easily do 2′6″ to 3′3″ courses and has free jumped 4 feet… LOTS of scope! He’s even trustworthy enough that he’s ponied yearlings and racehorses. Dylan’s a fun little guy who can hack out alone, with company, can lead or follow and is easy in the ring. To top it off, he’s an easy keeper! Get this adorable guy while he’s still available!!!
Currently located in Parkton, MD.
Price: $25,000 obo

* Go to NF’s Horses for Sale website page for more photos!

I just added a whole bunch of new pictures to the Candid Photos page on the blog… You can find that link by going up to the right hand corner of your screen. I made sure to include some horses we’ve had here over the years for training and boarding in addition to my own guys, of course. Hope you enjoy them! Also, make sure to check out the rest of the blog as I’ve updated quite a bit of it. In addition, be sure to visit our farm website (http://www.nantuafarm.com) since I will be adding some new horses that are now available for sale. We look forward to hearing from you and hope that you are praying to the anti-snow God just like we are! All I know is summer can’t get here soon enough for me!

AS OF MAY 2010, NANTUA FARM WILL NO LONGER BE OFFERING LONG-TERM BOARDING. All boarders must be in a training contract with Nantua Farm and will only be considered on a case-by-case basis due to the fact that our trainer, Lindsey Hays, is returning to school to become a large animal vet. WE DO, HOWEVER, STILL HAVE A WAITING LIST, SO IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BRING YOUR HORSE TO US FOR TRAINING, PLEASE CALL OR EMAIL US AS SOON AS POSSIBLE TO GET YOUR NAME ADDED TO THE LIST. Please check the Boarding Page on Nantua Farm’s website for more information. Thank you and good luck to everyone this season!

So when someone mentions snow balls, the first thought that comes to mind (at least it was for me until recently) is children enjoying their unexpected days off of school due to large amounts of snow. Bundled up like marshmallows, they’ve gathered to build up their stockpiles of snow balls for the winter time battles. No matter where you go in the northeastern United States, you are sure to find at least one group of kids huddled behind impromptu igloo style “fort walls” with piles of small round white balls that fly through the air. Inevitably there are also groups of bored older “children” (aka tweens) that use their snow balls for more destructive means, such as attempting to use cars as moving target practice. But then, if you grew up in an area that got a regular amount of snow every winter, we all have done both. Unfortunately, as much as I wish that the snow balls I am referring to were these, they are not.

It’s funny how much, as a younger, non-horse farm owner (i.e. servant and/or the “help” for the horses - I swear that there are moments where I will be picking a stall while a horse is in and they turn to look at me almost saying with their eyes “Umm, are you done yet? And, by the way, you missed a piece over there. Great, you got it…you’re excused now, I’ll call when you’re needed next.”), I LOVED snow. I saw it as romantic and calming. A pure white blanket that would begin to transform this familiar landscape into a foreign land. Again, this was pre-horse farm. This was when I could sit inside, in the warm heated house and gaze out the window as the lazy fat flakes floated out of the sky making naked trees into a winter wonderland. I no longer feel that way.

No, now even going out to the barn for the daily chores is a chore. My routine (which occurs several times/day and, if you find that you misjudged and need to use the restroom, well, you’re sort of up a creek) entails the following (for weather that is below freezing, which the HIGH has been for the past 10 days!):

1. First layer: Either thermal long johns/leggings or winter breeches, winter thermal socks and a turtleneck
2. Second Layer: Sweatpants, windpants or jeans, possibly a lightweight fleece top or sweater depending on the temp and wind and another layer of winter socks
3. Third Layer: Carhartt overalls (lifesavers!), a heavyweight hooded sweatshirt and another pair of shorter socks
4. Fourth Layer: Winter coat, Muck Boot Co. mid-height boots, either my leather Thinsulate gloves (that allows me to actually USE my hands) or water resistant ski gloves, headband that specifically covers my ears, a fleece “scarf turtleneck” I pull over my head and on top of my turtleneck and, depending of the temp and wind, a fleece hat.

Needless to say it takes at least 10-15 minutes just to get DRESSED to go out to do the barn chores. Then we actually come to doing the chores. What would typically be a job that could be done quickly and efficiently without being miserable and losing feeling in your extremities, now takes at least 2x as long in the sub-freezing temps. For example, after mucking (which is a joy all on it’s own, only plus is the manure is frozen), we have to first melt any of the non-heated buckets. Once melted, we have to pour in hot water we lugged out from the house and attach the hose (which had been, hopefully, drained adequately enough the night before) to the nozzle that we have had to bring into the house overnight or it will freeze. Then we quickly fill all of the buckets, heated and non-heated without letting the hose and nozzle sit too long or they will freeze together. As soon as we’re done we take it all apart and drain the 25′ hose at least 2x so it will work again the next day. And that is just ONE of the multitude of chores that must be done everyday at the farm.

Then there are the snow balls… Not the fun, kids playing games snow balls. Noooo, these are (for all of you non-horse people) massive accumulations of snow, ice, mud, hay, grass and manure that freeze into the horses feet and to their metal shoes whenever there is snow on the ground. Many times the only way to dislodge them is to soak each foot in warm/hot water in a bucket. Take 5 horses and multiple by 4. And remember that it is, most likely, no warmer than 20 degrees out. Typically it is by this point that I can no longer feel my feet or my hands.

So, next time all of you non-horse people or those of you lucky enough to be boarding your horse, please think of me suffering out in the barn. It may look beautiful (at times I still think so, until I remember I have to go out into it), but it sure as hell ain’t fun! Oh, and once it does get warmer and stops snowing… You’d think I’d be thrilled. Well, all that snow creates a brand new problem… Acres and acres of boot-sucking mud (don’t get me wrong, I’ll take that over sub-freezing temps any day!). All I know is that it’s a very good thing that I love these beasts called horses, because otherwise I’d be questioning my sanity.

Nantua Farm would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Coming from Maryland to Kentucky, I’ve become somewhat cynical about what true Kentuckians consider a “bad” winter (sorry, guys, but I’ve been through more blizzards and ice storms than I can remember growing up in Baltimore, MD)… Sure, I’m probably much kinder in that respect than someone who was, say, a Vermont transplant, but then they also would understand why I laugh when they close schools for a dusting of snow. But I’ve decided this year to make a list of sorts… The pros and the cons of winters on a farm in Kentucky.

Let’s see, first for the pros:
1. Lots of days off of school
2. The horses shit freezes in the stalls so they really can’t TRASH their stalls
3. It sure is pretty seeing the gorgeous KY landscape covered in a blanket of snow
4. The bizarre 60+ degree days thrown in amongst the 30 degree days
5. Minimal shoveling for the most part
6. Yet to experience an honest to goodness blizzard here in good ‘ole KY
7. Much shorter winter season here than in MD
8. The lack of mud on a horse who has rolled with a blanket vs. the horse who has rolled that does not have a blanket
9. Riding just after it has stopped snowy and everything looks like it’s covered in a brilliant white blanket
10. NO FLIES (especially horse flies)!

Now for the always humorous cons:
1. Having to clean out the winter heated buckets that have been SHAT in with freezing cold water and non-waterproof gloves (because the my loving lab has chewed all the waterproof ones up)!
2. Blanketing… enough said.
3. The wind!
4. Ice storms and the ensuing loss of power
5. KY’s bad winter weather drivers (no offense)
6. Lack of a hard frost in early fall, which helps with my allergies oh so much
7. KY’s seeming inability to winterize roads when necessary
8. Cleaning up a dirty horse without hot water in the barn
9. No heat in the barn… althought I’m working on that!
10. Snowballs in the horses hooves and shoes that must be melted out of their feet by submerging them in hot water (so much fun when it’s below freezing outside)
11. Breaking ice off of the occasional bucket when the heater decides to stop working
12. Having to drain EVERY hose EVERY night
13. Frozen toes, hands, fingers, noses and, occasionally, butts…
14. Bill and his bad attitude whenever he sees that it’s snowing (he has actually tried to turn tail and run back to his stall at the first sight of the white stuff! He also voices his objections loudly… Not a horse who suffers silently!)
15. The insanely short days that have far too little sunshine for my liking

I’m sure I’ve left out quite a few, but you get my drift… Just hoping we don’t have a repeat of last winter and the memorable Ice Storm of ‘09 and that all of my turnouts and stable blankets make it through another winter. I have to say, however, that the best part of winter is Christmas… And being on a horse farm just gives me an excuse to decorate a whole extra building! So pull out the garland, wreaths, bows and stockings, ’cause Nantua Farm is going to be getting ready for the holidays! Happy holidays to everyone!!!

Nantua Farm has just added a new page to our blog entitled “NF Calender” where you can find out when and what has been scheduled. For the most part, this will consist of vet calls, chiropractor appointments and farrier visits, but occasionally we may have a saddle fitter come and give a demonstration, have a clinic, or have a Set-Up Day (usually in the spring, when we set up the jump course and would love all volunteer hands on deck!) You can also find out here whether NF is going cross country schooling, foxhunting or to a show just in case you want to tag along… So check in regularly if you board with us to be sure when and what has been scheduled.

60 meters by 20 meters… Sounds simple enough, right? Sooo wrong! Guess I should have paid more attention to geometry while in high school (although I never guessed that the first time I’d use it SINCE high school would be to set up a dressage arena, so, no, to all you high schoolers out there who ask “are we ever going to use this sh*t again?” That is, unless you plan on ever attempting to layout a dressage arena. For those of you who don’t know, a standard size dressage arena (there’s also a small dressage arena) is a 60 meter by 20 meter rectangle (which roughly converts to 66 ft by 197 ft, well, technically 65.6 ft by 196.8 ft, but who’s counting, right?) with at least 8 letters (6 on the sides and one on each end - A F B M C H E K - A being where you enter) around the perimeter. Each letter is supposed to be a certain distance away from the corner and the other letters, the arena needs to me square and, of course, the corners need to be honest to God 90 degree angles. Sounds easy enough until you’re out there moving letters and sides of the arena around for the billionth time. So, as dusk began to settle, I made an executive decision. Eyeball the damn thing. And you know what? I went back and measured it a few days later and it’s actually closer to being dead on correct than it was the dozen or so times I tried to figure it out mathematically. So I’m not sure whether to be proud that I obviously have a good eye or really embarrassed that my geometry and math sucks THAT much (and I used to be really really good in math, too)! All I know is, that damn arena is staying put. Mow around it, jump areound it, I don’t really care, because I sure as hell won’t be doing THAT again any time soon!

Ok… So by dinner time (the horse’s dinner time, because, of course, our clock revolves around their clock) I’m usually dragging. Ready to feed and toss their behinds out. Well, tonight I got a little wake-up call in the form of a cow standing maybe 3-5 feet from the back doors of the barn. All I can mutter is “ok then” as the horses continue complaining that I’m dragging my ass with concern to their dinner. Seems that the cattle have figured out that the grass truly is greener on our side of the fence and pulled down two bottom boards and crawled through. Didn’t realize bovine were that smart…

So today was one of those days… The days that never seem to end and you just want to climb back up the stairs, change back into your pj’s and crawl into bed until the sun has set and risen once again. But, of course, you can’t. So, how does this hair-raising day end? One of my boarders is turning out her horse, O’Malley, into his pasture when she sees a tiny black thing running around IN the pasture. Not a cat. Not a dog. Not even some weird animal I can’t name. No, it’s one of our neighbors calves. A one day old bull to be exact… So people begin to gather (think we eventually got to 5) to attempt to put this 100 lb calf back into it’s own pasture. He was having none of it! Head-butting anything and everyone in sight and O’Malley calmly stands off to the side observing the hysterics. Then they both began to head towards the same gate (O’Malley and the calf, that is) and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a large beast jump out of his skin so fast in regards to something that could, quite literally, walk underneath his belly… After what seemed like an eternity of people waving their arms, lots of head-butts, the mama cow mooing for her baby, and O’Malley keeping his distance, the poor terrified calf crawled back through the fence to his mom. All I can say is thank God for my boarder (thank you, Shannon!) and her level-headed horse. So now, I go to bed knowing that I already have one thing on my “To Do” list for tomorrow… Fix that fence.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very appreciative that my barn cats are doing their duty and making sure that our barn is free of all small edible creatures, but there are moments where I wish they sucked at their job… Like this morning. Not a bad morning, Charlie’s swollen eye was looking more normal and nothing had been destroyed over night by the equine monsters during the dreaded switch from night to day turnout. So not bad…. right? Wrong. I walk back to the house to enjoy my breakfast (because, of course, my lovely pampered 1,000 lb+ beasts get to dine first at our farm or the human folk will hear about it) and what do I find? A headless rabbit carcass… I will spare you the details, as they kept me from eating, but needless to say, my darling barn cats, who are no larger (and possibly smaller) than this headless rabbit had dragged the poor bunny cottontail to the GARAGE! They are supposed to be BARN cats! So, hopefully, by lunch time, I’ll be hungry again…

In our barn, we have two 12′ x 12′ stalls that can (well, could originally, you’ll understand why not anymore at the end of the story) be converted into a 12′ x 24′ foaling stall by simply removing ten to twelve 2″ x 8″ boards that slide into a groove made by some pieces of wood that had been nailed to the sides of the stalls (not my design!)… Well, when we first moved to the property, Blue and Bill shared those adjoining stalls. This arrangement has since changed all because of what I found one morning when I came out to feed. Seems that Blue, who is known around the barn as the prankster and, when bored, can raise some hell, had somehow managed, with his TEETH to pull out on of these 2″ x 8″ x 12 foot boards. At first I didn’t notice it as I went into his stall and thought something was a little odd with the wall, but couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Well, then I went into Bill’s stall… Right in the middle is this board covered in teeth marks. So, I shake my head, pull the board out and go on with my day. Not the end of the story… Several days later I come in to turn everyone out and there are TWO more boards pulled out as well as one board (mind you this is a 2″ x 8″) that is cracked in half! Slowly but surely, Blue is removing the wall so it’s low enough for this 17.1 hh lughead to step over into Bill’s stall! Now, what he was planning on doing once in there I’m not quite sure as Bill is not really the “sharing” type. Not a stall I’d want to be in! Oh, and all three (well, four, I guess, as one of them was in 2 pieces) were all in Bill’s stall as Blue didn’t want anything littering HIS precious stall! Still not sure how he/they managed it, but, needless to say, Charlie is now in Bill’s old stall (who doesn’t put up with Blue’s shananigans) and every board has TWO screws in both ends… I just have to wonder what Blue must have been like on the track… Oh good Lord!

For some reason, clean clothing seems to have a bullseye for every horse booger in the barn. Leave it to your equine best friend to snort on your best or most expensive WHITE shirt only minutes before you need to leave to go somewhere. And with my luck, it typically ends up landing front and center of my chest… But what happened the other day beats the cake. Straight into my face… Enough said.

I have to preface this story with the fact that my neighbor, a cattle farmer, is amazing! He is one of those guys who has every tool and toy imaginable and is willing to help you out whenever you need help (he, in fact, helped us put in an entire fence line of posts because he has a post hole digger attachment for his tractor which makes short work of a big job), so when he admitted that he watches me ride through his binoculars, I just laughed! So, I went down to his barn the other day to see what was going on (there were a bunch of worker bees hanging around) and he begins telling the guys hanging around about me and what he saw through his binoculars the other day. Now, you have to imagine this in a strong southeastern Kentucky accent… “So, I see her get bucked off this little mustang… and she gets back on. I think she’s nuts. Then I see her get bucked off again and she gets BACK ON AGAIN! This happens several times, and each time the buck gets worse and the landing gets harder…. So all I have to say is, damn, this girl has cojones!”

So have you ever ridden, don’t really care where or what discipline and found yourself looking down at the ground knowing that momentarily you would be there regardless of your intention of remaining in the saddle? Not the best feeling in the world. My most recent “that’s gonna hurt…” moment was several months ago when I was riding Blue, my big 17.1 hh OTTB dressage king. We were having a leisurely hack out in the back pasture and suddenly, without warning (well, of course there was no warning, or I would have figured out a different method of dismount) a horse fly lands on his massive butt and stings him. Despite Blue’s size and normally calm demeanor, he erupted into bucks that I never knew he was capable of. I’m talking the big, twist his head from side to side while throwing his butt over his ears kind of buck! So, what do I do in that infinitely small moment? I look down at the ground (which seems way farther away at that point than it did 30 minutes ago when mounting) and “that’s gonna hurt…” begins to play in my head. To my right is a large flat rock and to my left is an even bigger not so flat rock. Neither way is a good out. So I’m pretty much screwed at this point. I drop my stirrup irons (as getting dragged is the LAST thing I need) and hold on for dear life! Now, any polo player worth their salt knows that stuff like this happens all the time (ok, maybe not all the time, but that, of course, depends on how lucky you are when you picked your string of polo ponies) and not only are you expected to remain UPRIGHT in the saddle, but the rest of your team sees no reasonable explanation for why you would be unable to hit, block, hook or bump (sorry for all you non-polo people… polo lingo just sort of comes out). But, I’m not in a polo saddle, I’m in a dressage saddle. And I’m not lucky enough to have a pelham, gag, or other strong bit to assist me in bringing the bouncing helicopter I’m sitting on to a stop. So I begin of thinking about exit strategies… Left or right? Roll or try to land on my feet? Well, maybe a whole 3 seconds later, the decisions have been made for me as I lay on my back staring up at the underside of Blue’s neck. And what is the first thing that pops into my head? “Damn, I missed a spot with the clippers…”