Spoiled, you know kinda like curdled milk.

Leo is spoiled, or so I have heard. Katie and Brody as well. I'd almost bet that you could attach that label to a variety of animals, including those at the barn (Diamond Hill Ranch).

I really dislike the term. No matter who says it, no matter who is being referenced, I instantly think of curdled milk.

I admit that I give more weight to personality then the average Joe. I admit that I indulge the same. I do not do it to the detriment of (insert name).

Leo has his own couch, yes couch. No one really sits there but Leo and it is referred to as Leo's couch.

Katie gets warm beet pulp cause she loves it, she does not need it. She is the opposite of a hard keeper however watching me prepare everyone's meal and leaving her out is not something I have the heart to do. Does Katie get an excess, no. Does Katie get what she thinks is pretty special, yes.

Brody not only gets warm beet pulp, lately he's also gotten nightly massage sessions. We haven't done that since late September however he is pretty upset over Rev and reassuring him that he is special is important. Massaging him, not a bonafide equine massage, I'm not a real therapist, has always been a special thing for him and I. Bonding if you will.

Rev gets at least a half hour of undivided attention every night, last night we spent probably a full hour grooming and talking. He's confused right now and he needs to know he is safe, loved, and will be taken care of. The time we spend will hopefully lessen his confusion and allow him to settle into the farm with minimal fear and insecurity.

Austin gets special treatment too, his beet pulp is delivered fresh and warm every morning and every evening. Austin gets brushed a lot cause I have found that he likes it, makes him all sleepy faced. Austin hangs his head over his stall and I rub his forehead, usually his head lands somewhere in the nook of my other arm and we talk. He likes it, I like it. Win win.

I've heard about how spoiled Leo is since about a week after he came to live with me.

I want a new term. When I hear spoiled I think ruined; curdled milk, rotten fruit, moldy cheese. Unusable and downright yucky.

Animals and people don't spoil, I refuse to believe that. Overindulgence isn't good for anyone, human or otherwise, I believe that wholeheartedly. The ponies and Leo have to listen because I am in charge of their care and unless they can grow thumbs, learn to speak English and get a job, they have to follow the rules.

I've written about this scores of times and still have yet to pin point why it pisses me off so badly when people attach that to an animal or person. A spoiled person is really just a selfish person, think about it. A spoiled animal, well they behave badly, they may bite, they may kick, they may disregard the rules cause they figure they are entitled. Does that happen to an animal cause they are well taken care of? No, I don't think so. Do I have a very different philosophy where they are concerned, yes sir and ma'am I do.

They have personalities, they think, they feel, they should be allowed to express themselves, in my opinion. Expressing themselves should never equate to bad or dangerous behavior.

Every animal in my care has special quirks that I indulge, every single one.

Leo gets a beef stick nearly every time I go to the gas station. If Leo doesn't get one I am not greeted with growling and the like, he does indeed pout and let me know that he is disappointed. I usually reassure him that life is not over and we're all good. I could go on and on about the special things Mr. Leo is allowed but you get the point.

By traditional definition Leo is spoiled cause of a myriad of things that "normal dogs" don't get to do.

By traditional definition Katie is spoiled. I'm pretty sure anyone that has met the lovely Miss Katie would agree that the girl has opinions and I've never stifled them. Does it mean she gets to step on my toes cause she wants to get to the pasture faster then necessary? No, that's not safe for her or me and keeping her safe (and me too) is my primary job.

I don't give two licks what anyone thinks of Brody; that horse will be accommodated for the rest of his days. He's been through enough.

I get so bent out of shape when someone declares that my loving them and giving them what, I believe, every being deserves, spoils them. It makes it sound like I have ruined them. Ruined them for what? For who?

Frankly pisses me off, insults me.

If one of them is upset I want to know, and you know what they let me know. Not by biting my hand off or kicking me in my butt with giant legs, Leo lets me know he is unhappy by raising his brows in a million different ways. Katie shakes her head no, I shit you not, when she is upset. Brody stands as still as a statue and refuses to look your way until you walk to him. Rev is still pretty apprehensive but when he is upset, usually at Brody, he comes to the fence and waits for you. He needs reassurance right now and it's my job to make sure he has that. "Should" I play pasture referee? I'd bet most people would say no. I, again, don't care. They all live here and well they have to be nice. That's one of the rules here on the farm, everyone must be nice. In return they are treated very well.

Someone needs to make up a new word because spoiled should not, in my opinion, be applied to a living being.

What if you had a garden and you watered the garden every day, talked to your plants, gave them special vitamins that might not be in the dirt that YOU planted them in, and they grew to be huge, sweet, well rounded vegetables, would you be guilty of spoiling your garden? Nope, not until you stuck said veggies in the fridge and forgot about them...

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Brody and his fifteen minutes of fame

Q13 has a pet of the week contest. I watch every week and wish I had submitted Leo, I think Leo is the cutest dog on the planet!

However Brody is more deserving of fifteen minutes of fame; he's been through more than most and makes my heart swell each morning. So Brody is entered! Please give him some love!

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9,670 Days

I've been a mom for 9,670 days, sounds impressive doesn't it? I could have just as easily said, my son is 26, a touch less dramatic really. Over the years my son has chosen a path that is completely baffling to me, harmful for him, and painful for everyone connected to either of us. I've often related the feeling to watching him ram his head into a brick wall, bring himself back to me for bandaging, only to ram into the very same wall he just recently walked away from.

The most recent events certainly don't need to be detailed on here, the core issue is the same. How do you function when your child is hell bent on a path that can lead to one, of a few, bad ends. Coping is really all it comes down to because you can't make it not hurt, you can't remove the worry, you can only try to cope.

Today I cleaned up at the Ranch, it's Tuesday, it's my day. You'd be surprised at how it clears your mind; the mindless physical act coupled with the occasional petting of a forehead. There is something soothing about working the muscles I suppose. I know it's soothing to pet the ponies ;-)

I got home pretty early because Cathy helped me clean today. When I got home I decided to let the ponies mix it up. The integration process for Brody is slow going. Brody sees Rev as competition. They do just grand for a bit then Rev gets close to Katie and Brody decides that is not acceptable and off the two of them go. Mind you if you're watching and you say "Brody stop it" he stops, looks around, bends his giraffe like neck to the grass, his little ears all perky, and proceeds to graze as if he is still the most innocent creature at the farm. Rev often looks as if he is asking "What in the hell is wrong with that guy?" Katie is oblivious because there is grass to be eaten. Leo is typically standing at my feet whimpering because darn it the horses are moving faster than a walk and that means he really really wants to run too!

Normally I chastise whomever is being testy, they act innocent and surprised that they are in trouble, we move on. When you are dealing with the many personalities here on the farm it's a guarantee someone is being testy to someone else. The usual suspects over the years have been Charlie, Logan, Katie,Tex, Leo, and most recently Brody has joined the  "Who me?!" club. Most of the trouble makers are, and/or have been mine. Most of the trouble makers in that little club think, or thought, they are, or were, pretty darned high in the chain of command / attention.

Today I could barely focus and as a result my giant toddlers all got ushered into their stalls for dinner at 5:30pm because Brody had pissed me off, for the second time, in a short twenty minutes. He didn't do anything that I couldn't have, or haven't, predicted. He sees Rev being here as competition, he's not too pleased with it. He may have arrived low man on the totem pole but if someone else is coming into the picture, well he isn't going to stay low man on the totem pole. He has not kicked Rev, he hasn't even offered a very valid threat of a kick to Rev. He simply tosses his big old head about and prances around like he is king of the horses. He prances toward Rev no doubt however, it is more like a 'You, Move!' or a "You, Stay right there!' kind of thing. So we've been taking it slow. They are out after breakfast in separate, but adjoining, pasture areas so everyone has a chance to graze a bit in peace then we open up the pasture to everyone for a few hours before dinner. That usually includes access to the yards as well, so they can, conceivably, go in and out of both freely.

Today we went from the pasture + front yard for an hour, or so, for everyone to opening up the rest of the yard, which includes the side and top half. There is plenty of yard for everyone. Brody apparently did not agree with Rev venturing off to the side of the house where the Princess was hanging out and decided perhaps he ought to move Rev right to the back of the house (where they are not allowed and is fenced off). Katie just stands there looking at Brody like she knows yard privileges are about ready to be cut off, Leo is whimpering again cause he's not allowed to participate, Brody is looking at the blackberry bushes as if they hold the secrets of the universe and steadfastly ignoring me, and Rev is peeking from around the corner looking at me as if to say "are you flipping kidding me?".

I was in no mood today. I started the day with Leo needing a bath, he has a hot spot, rather what would become a hot spot if I didn't bathe him and apply the medicine this morning and I pretty much knew this. It's not really how I wanted to spend my morning, he always looks like you're killing him when you make him take a bath. He's good but my lord I didn't feel up to a dog driven guilt trip at 9am. I followed that by fielding a good ten calls from the person whom I mothered 9,670 days ago, most of which included me saying no to a request and his replying with various examples of how I was the worst person on the planet. I'd shoveled a lot of shit for the day, figuratively and literally.

And, here was Brody. Trying to, in his horsey way, establish how important he was here at the farm. I just wasn't in the mood today.

I don't think Brody has ever heard my "I'm NOT fucking around anymore" voice until today. Nice to know the voice works with a simple "Move it right now, in your stall!" He high tailed ;-) his butt right up to the barn. Katie, darling that she is, has heard it more than once and followed Brody right up the drive, Leo of course has heard it more than twice and stayed at (or under) my feet! Rev was still apprehensively at the corner watching his nemesis get busted.

Rev walked up to the barn after Brody & Katie and stood right in front of his door waiting while I finished latching Brody's gate. I opened his door and in he went, straight to his hay, just like the other two.

I still wasn't in the mood to talk to any of my children, four legged or not, and was just sort of relieved that they were all secure for the night and perhaps mom could, after almost ten thousand flippin' days, and a lot of shit in the last 2 of them, not worry about it. Wow talk about whiny! It's true though.

I love the horses. I love Leo. I love my son. I love taking care of them, all of them, always have. It is quite literally in my blood to take care. Sometimes though, taking care, means doing things that are not always pleasant for the one in your care. You have to say no sometimes and they don't always like it. Today I was in no mood, I didn't want to have to say no one more time, not today.

In their respective rooms everyone went. Figuratively and literally speaking, after 9,670 days as mom I figure I can make that decision.

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Deceptively strong and/or my affinity for hard keepers

Brody came to the farm in July. He was quite the mess, through no fault of his own. He needed a lot of weight, I am a horrible judge however, I think it is safe to say a good 150, if not 200, pounds were necessary. He also had issues with his foot, it's better now. He was also very sad. He was barely there, and the little you could see had only come out in the few weeks he was with Drea right before he came here, we'd barely touched the surface.

I think the best illustration of where he was and how far he has come is in the picture below.

I tend to want to wrap Brody up in bubble wrap and tuck him in safe so nothing in the world can hurt him ever again. I'd probably bring him into the house if I could justify it for even half a second. I am, secretly, convinced that he is the single most fragile creature on the planet.

He's not.

He's very healthy these days although I would like to see another 50 or 75 pounds on him. I suspect his keeping weight on is always going to be an issue. He is, most definitely, a hard keeper. He has legs that go on forever and a neck that resembles a giraffe. He is also hyper-vigilant, nothing escapes his attention. His stress level is something I have worried over since the moment he stepped off the trailer.

I baby him. I can't help myself, let me rephrase, I don't want to help myself. He deserves to be babied after what he has been through. By that I mean, I baby him. I thought about justifying it with stress level concerns and his being a hard keeper and all that however, fact is I baby him. I will probably never stop, well ok I won't stop for some time. I remember too well what he looked like, how he felt, when he came here. If I could build Brody a cloud I'd do it and he and Charlie (my friends horse) could live on it together.

All that being said, Brody has proven to be anything but fragile lately. Rev came to the farm about a week ago. I've kept Rev's coming to the farm pretty quiet. Normally I plaster pictures on Facebook and talk to anyone stupid enough to listen about the "new guy". Rev was in need of a new home, I had an open stall, Rev came. There was no need for hoopla :-) He is settling in nicely. He is a beautiful deep bay, sweet disposition, history of dressage and jumping and is apparently in love with (or tolerating) Katie.

Brody on the other hand is none too pleased with the addition. My fragile, bubble wrapped boy, chased Rev into the arena and steadfastly refused to let him out and / or near Katie. The first day they were out together there was a biting incident, Rev got bit, I suspected Katie. Let's face it if someone is gonna bite someone else in the pasture and / or push them around it'd "likely" be the princess. I suspect this time it was Brody.

We've been taking the integration slow, about an hour or so each day they are all together in the pasture. Otherwise Rev is in the yard/arena area and the other two are in the pasture. They can play, sniff, etc...over the fence however they can't completely mix it up.

Funny thing is, the day before yesterday, I was watching them as they were "mixing it up" in the pasture together. It really is Brody who is bothered. He is determined to hold his spot as "second". Katie is, and will always be, first. And much like Patch, whom I'd have wrapped in cotton and tucked into bed every night if I could have gotten away with it, Brody is tougher than I like to admit.

I suppose after what he's been through his constitution should not be in question.

I suppose after watching his progress I shouldn't be too terribly surprised that he can exert himself.

I suspect Rev can more than handle himself.

I assume after a few weeks I'll stop worrying that Brody is gonna stress himself out and subsequently stress Rev out.

I hope all of the above is true otherwise my favorite hard keeper, and the new guy, are gonna be living in the house and I am really not sure how I'd explain that to anyone!

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Four legged toddlers

I have often shook my head and thought "you (insert horse's name) are like a 1200lb. toddler!". Today Katie proved she was a toddler, albeit not 1200lbs. The horses were out in the yard with the pasture gate up top open so they could come in and out. Fairly normal however you have to keep an eye on them (read Katie) because the barn is also right there. She's been known to go in there when you aren't looking and poke around the stalls (not her own mind you) for food (she's starving, poor girl). If I close the top gate and open the bottom gate they can't get to the barn just the bottom yard, however that's hardly the point, today they had full yard rights.

I looked up from the house to see where they were at and I see Brody standing in front of the barn peering in. This can only mean a few things, there is a monster in the barn getting ready to pounce, Katie is in his stall eating his left over hay (he eats slow and always has left overs from breakfast), or Katie is attempting to open one of the grain bins and Brody is in awe.

As it turned out, Katie had used the few minutes she had to sneak in there to open Austin's bin. Austin gets a senior grain (read super yummy if you're a horse), Katie does not get a senior grain.

Up we go to investigate and Leo, of course, MUST be involved in scooting Katie out of the barn which means Leo caused more trouble then help. All you have to say is "No (insert any other animals name)" and Leo is on spot. I do think he is trying to say "Hey she said no, stop, whoa, ho, hey, back up, or something so you better listen!". God forbid I say "No, Katie." Leo and Katie have a love hate relationship, always have. So, we have Leo expressing himself, barking, running in a circle that makes no sense to anyone but him, and randomly crouching down in front of me for good measure. Katie, lady that she is, has decided that cooperating isn't happening, going in the pasture (even though she was caught red handed) is not in her plans, and trots up the hill. She shook her head at Leo for good measure, she did not toss her head, she shook it up and down right in his little face. It's her "get the heck away from me stupid dog, I have never liked you and only allow you to live cause she seems to" nod.

At the top of the drive, a short walk at best, I get a rope on Katie and promise to kick Leo's little ass if he doesn't stop bothering her so much and walk down to the barn. You'd think that's that. No, Leo decides that perhaps Katie didn't hear him so he barks again, Katie nods (I'm holding her), I yell at him, remind her she isn't walking alone, and in her stall she goes.

Right about the time we get Captain Mouth on his rope, and Katie in the pasture, I wondered why in the heck I decided these overgrown (in both instances) toddlers were a good idea.

By the time I latched the gate and untied Captain Mouth I was wondering how to explain to Leo and Katie that the life they took for granted would be paradise for an animal that has no home; the minute I wondered that I remembered that it was a good thing they didn't speak English because, goodness knows, guilt as a tool rarely works!

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Qualifications & televised funerals

I like to think of this blog as the soft and safe place where I can express how much love I have for the animals, how they changed my life, and all that touchy feely stuff that I love so much, without feeling like a tree hugging, animal loving, freak of nature. Here I can admit things like 'riding is secondary to me, sort of a bonus' and not feel like a sub par horse person. It's like my electronic 'happy place'. I try not to bring negative into my happy little electronic world, as a result there is very little in the way of political beliefs, religious beliefs, current events and/or my thoughts on them. Mostly I think our country has lost its collective mind so any discussion surrounding the same would certainly bring negative to my touchy feely blog.


That's quite possibly the best qualification for breaking my own rules that I've come up with (in awhile). 


Whitney Houston died the other day; no, I honestly don't recall which particular day it was and I am steadfastly refusing to google it for accuracy because you know what? I don't really care. Had it not turned into a national flippin' holiday I might have a bit more in the way of sympathy however it has, without surprise, turned into an event so epic to the citizens of this country members of our government are ordering flags flown at half staff/mast (whichever you prefer). Now, when you say something like that out loud, and I am sure I am not the only one disgusted with this mess, people think you are cold and all kinds of other nifty adjectives. 


Of course it's sad that she died. My goodness sake, it is sad when anyone dies as a result of substance abuse and, drum roll please, that is precisely what happened to her. Lets pretend that we have paid any mind to the woman in the last ten years and she had continued to make music we all bought and loved. Lets even pretend that her music was so touching, so inspirational, it altered life views for troubled souls. Lets forget that her biggest hit was a god damn Dolly Parton cover. Does an entertainer deserve the same honor as a fallen soldier, a world leader, a civil rights leader, etc? Really? Isn't there something biblical out there about false idols? I'm breaking the no politics rule, may as well break the no religion rule. 


I'm not afraid god is going to strike the US dead cause we are stupid enough to put our stock in entertainers and money making machines, I am afraid that the good old US is gonna shoot all of our feet clean through the middle if we don't get our collective heads out of asses of the rich and famous. Corporate America or Hollywood Idols, it's the same same. We really ought to be worried about the fate of the generations following us. If our priorities are this far out of whack now, what in the hell will they be like in twenty years? I have a grandson, I worry.


Yesterday I got wind of an Arab that had suffered the same circumstances that Brody suffered. Abandoned, left to starve, through no fault of her own. She was rescued. 


On February 11th Army Pfc. Cesar Cortez, 24, of Oceanside, Calif., died in Bahrain, through no fault of his own. He was not rescued.


While I am sure a flag flew somewhere for Private Cortez, I am equally sure our nation, as a whole, did not honor his contributions to the same.


For that we ought to be ashamed, as a whole, as a nation, as a society, as human beings. 

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2012/02/18/3436856/military-deaths.html#storylink=cpy

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Dogs, horses, Law & Order, oh my!

Earlier in the day a friend of mine called and remarked that she was not too pleased with herself currently (just for today). After she explained why, I could and did, tell her that I understood exactly what she meant. I thought for a quick second to add "I went through it and it passes" or something to that effect when I realized that this process of change and adjustment doesn't really pass, it just changes.

I still have days when it's all just overwhelming and certainly days when I wake up and think "really Carol, really?". I've often joked about how certain people who know me probably think I lost my mind when I lost my job and decided to refuse any possibility of reentering Corporate America. Truth is there are days when I wonder if I've lost my mind, today was one of those days.

I hung up the phone and went about thinking about prioritizing my list of things to do. I've decided to write as a freelancer (resumes, content articles etc...) that being the case, I've been collecting and creating samples. My list of things to do included a multitude (ok only a few) of articles, two resume re-writes, and the completion of a website. I made this list of things to do. This list was not overly ambitious. Still, I sat there and it felt downright suffocating. I did what anyone trying desperately to be a grown up would do, I turned on Law and Order and cuddled with the dog. Don't worry, I set a limit for this bout of "Really Carol?? Realllllllly?", I didn't even use all of my allotted time. I did close my eyes, I did take great comfort in the warmth of Poncho curled up next to me, I also wondered why in the hell I was so determined to not turn back into the Carol I was before I was kicked off the island.

I think I started to realize that I was existing, not living, right about the time Leo came into my life. Leo is three, I am slow. I didn't make a decision to change until Leo was about six months old; I had lost my favorite aunt and my oldest brother, the farm house came available, and the horses entered my life. I spent the next two years talking myself down; work to support your life, do not live to support your work, was the general idea. As it turned out the more talking I did to myself, the closer I got to the peace that resided in the barn. With each tail I brushed, each bucket of beet pulp prepared, each stall that Leo and I cleaned (yes he helps), and every evening spent listening to the music of munching hay, I came closer to me. I'd shovel shit and wonder why I never realized how badly I needed peace in my life. I'd spend hours researching beet pulp; to soak or not to soak, warm or cold, etc... and wonder why in the hell I thought software was ever a good idea. I lost a little bit of faith in my choice of profession with each instance, beet pulp or otherwise, I just didn't know what to do about it. I really didn't do much about it; I cut my hours back and tried to talk myself out of the belief that only a slacker works eight hour days. Apparently my bosses agreed :-) Actually that's crap, I made too much money and I was no longer devoting my life to my work, on top of it I was constantly calling out my boss, whom I had interviewed and approved off prior to his being hired, for under utilizing my talent and consequently "Wasting company resources". Yes, I said that to him and on more than one occasion. Looking back I am certain I had a lot more to do with my island departure than I like to admit. I was right, he was under utilizing me, he didn't know what to do with me, he had blown the chance to do what we intended when he was hired with the idea that I move away from general support management and into a deeper technical role, I should not have stated that over and over. It was probably the equivalent of career suicide. I wonder if I had any idea what I was setting up for myself.

Since then it's been one change after the next, one reevaluation after then next, one examination of motive after the next. The only thing that holds true is the refusal; at times, seemingly fruitless, frequently frustrating, mostly unprofitable, and worrisome more times than not, it's still better than the alternative. Even when that means forgiving a mid-afternoon, completely unproductive hour on the couch, with the dog tucked in close because nothing else seems possible.

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Crisis of confidence, part one

Some people have a crisis of conscience; me, I have a crisis of confidence. It's one of those things that find me hiding in my head, wishing for a magical book that will explain why and save me the trouble of analyzing every possible reason. In case any of you wondered, that process can not only take an incredible amount of time and energy, it can also make the crisis worse. Because there is no magical book to explain the why's of my mind I have found myself analyzing everything for weeks, months is probably more accurate. I believe it all came to a head when we (Cathy and I) were working with Katie and she came close to kicking me square in the head. Now she didn't kick me square in the head and all was well (outwardly); I walked out of that arena shaking like the proverbial leaf. I'm still not sure if Cathy noticed, for the record I don't want to know.

After that day (it was just last week sometime) I found myself in my head once again doubting every horse decision I had ever made. I do some amazing things to myself when I crawl into my head and decide no one will understand. I can go from "it's ok not to be perfect, it is a totally new way of looking at them (from a work perspective)" to "what the hell is wrong with you, you can't do this, people don't "start" something of this magnitude at 40 some odd years old, give up, they deserve better, you're gonna ruin them, etc etc etc" And around we go; the worse merry go round ever!

I knew I had to do something. I didn't like this attack on my confidence one tiny bit and frankly it's not all that deserved, unless of course you're a self conscience freak that expects to be perfect.

I knew if I was gonna get over this I needed the help of a horse that I wasn't going to worry me, at least it seemed a logical place to start. I knew that was neither Katie or Brody. Katie well Katie can be Katie and then I get nervous, she feels that, and arrrrrrrrrrrrround we go. Confidence builder...no. She expects you to be confident and right now I am anything but. Brody is just now at the point where he is healthy, he is just now getting his feet back, I can't ask him to help me find mine. I doubt myself, he is already unsure of himself, and arrrrrrrrrrround we go.

I also knew P was not gonna happen, with her all that doubt goes away. For some reason that horse has never made me feel anything but perfectly ok with whatever we were doing. P's path however isn't my path and I suppose I had to finally come to terms with that.

So I found an Appy, 26, laid back, anyone could ride, build your confidence, personality out the ying yang, blanketed butt, etc etc. Can we say "Patch"? Ta Da problem solved right? How about no. Even I could see what this horse represented to me with no more than a second to step back; being I have been living in my head lately, I had more then a second to think about my motives. That being said, I was also ignoring that and set to go see him, figure out how supporting three was a good idea again, oh and let us not forget, convince everyone I know that I wasn't crazy.

I asked Cathy to go with me to see/meet him. Naturally she wanted to know why and I was finally faced with saying aloud what had been consuming about 90% of my brain power for the last month. I felt like I was trying to learn to walk again and I wanted a horse that already knew how to walk perfectly to help me through it. I could not ask Katie to be that horse, I could not ask Brody to be that horse; this appy whom sounded so much like Patch, him I could ask.

We went out that night, after I showed Cathy his ad. I had yet to ask her to go with me, I waited on that until later. Later yet I tried to explain my apprehension where the horses were concerned as well as my attraction to this appy. I'd like to think the few beers I had prior to attempting to explain had no affect; that being said, I am fairly certain I sounded ... at least scattered, at worse scattered and terrified. I did wake slightly embarrassed by my admissions.

Cathy texted me the next day and brought up Austin. Joe & Stacy were willing to let Austin stay up at the ranch so I could ride him, work with him.

Cathy came and got me and we went up to the barn, Joe and Austin were there. Cathy rode Austin a bit in the bareback pad then I hopped on for a whopping three minutes.

Austin was rescued by Stacy and Joe a couple years ago. He's an older guy. He's about as relaxed as he is lovable. He's not a big guy, he's not a small guy. He has wonderful eyes and a gentle feel about him. He's pretty much exactly what I was looking for when I found the ad for the appy. Austin also meant I didn't buy another horse. Austin was also the horse of people whom I respected. It took me all of five seconds to recognize the gift.

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Lay it on the line

I talk a lot about faith. I talk a lot about honesty. I talk a lot about growth. I talk a lot about healing. I talk a lot about lessons; I wax poetic about how they relate to the horses.

Fact is there have been many lessons, as many lessons as there have been horses. Typically they have presented themselves with uncanny timing; this is not to say that I have always appreciated the timing, much less the lesson.

I suspect the biggest lesson is starting. It wasn't a lesson I'd have anticipated when I started this blog. When I started this blog it was about the growth they afforded me through quite a bit of loss; that still holds true.

A different type of loss came when I lost my job; subsequently bringing an end to a career that I spent nearly fifteen years building. It turned my life upside down in a way that found me rethinking everything I had previously hung my hat on. It shook my confidence in a way that I had never before experienced, the series of adjustments that followed did much the same.

I've climbed through the lessons, more times than not, holding a tail in one hand and a brush in the other. I have learned how to be quiet, I have learned how to be still. I've been shown a level of forgiveness that to this day blows me away. I've learned more about loving another being than I ever thought possible. I've also learned a bit more about grief, acceptance, pride, honestly, confidence, strength, and let us not forget fear.

My confidence slid backward with the loss of my job; really bad timing considering where I was with my "horsey confidence" back then. My confidence really took a hit when Patch died, I wrote and deleted "passed away" I'll muse over that a bit later I suppose. There was, and probably still is, somewhere in there, the belief that I don't deserve them because I went and let him die.

Enter Brody. Brody was in bad shape when he came to me. I was in horrible shape when he came to me. He's spent the last five months eating and hanging out in the pasture, well until recently when I moved him and Katie to the Ranch. They have been at the ranch for about two weeks now.

It's been hard for Brody, he didn't want to eat at first. God forbid Katie be anywhere but next to him, and relaxing was not happening. I was afraid to separate them because his health is, and has been, so fragile. That finally had to come to an end one day last week when I went to go get Katie. Brody and Katie were turned out together and all was well as Katie and I left the pasture with Brody still there. We got about half across the outdoor arena and here came Brody, having broke the fence to get to Katie (not me Katie).

They were separated that day, they had been in stalls right next to each other. He was devastated. He was shaking. He broke out in hives. He screamed. He was pretty inconsolable. I was pretty sure I was gonna lose it watching him, I didn't. We gave him some Quitex (I am sure I spelled that wrong but it is effectively Valerian root). He calmed down eventually that night.

It's hard to watch him be scared, and he is. It's hard to remember that this is all good for him and that I didn't make a bad "horse mom" decision for him even though he is doing so well. I was looking for a word the other night, on the phone with my mom, to describe his reaction to all this change when she suggested hyper-vigilant. Not surprising, she was dead on. Also not surprising is her using the same word when speaking about me (at times).

From Wikipedia:

Hypervigilance is an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity accompanied by an exaggerated intensity of behaviors whose purpose is to detect threats. Hypervigilance is also accompanied by a state of increased anxiety which can cause exhaustion. Other symptoms include: abnormally increased arousal, a high responsiveness to stimuli, and a constant scanning of the environment for threats.^[1][2] Hypervigilance can be a symptom of posttraumatic stress disorder^[3] and various types of anxiety disorder.

Are we really surprised that I googled it for good measure? 

The other night when Cathy and I worked with Brody, I watched him be scared and confused with what was being asked. I also watched him come out of it when he understood. I'm not going to qualify any of this with "we didn't do a lot, it was nothing spectacular, etc.." I do far too much of discounting progress, not tonight. It was huge for him and watching him I felt a huge swell of pride. Not for me, for him. To see him relax, to watch him get a glimpse of who he was, what he could do; it made my heart swell with pride. 

I also related; I understood, understand, what it is like to flail about and hope to goodness you're doing the right thing. I get, got, the fear that comes with "Oh fuck is this (insert new experience after great trauma) gonna finally do me in". I watched him deal with that as Cathy followed him around the arena, gently trying to explain that no, the rope wasn't going to eat him.

Then she put the rope in my hand. Then I wondered if the rope was gonna eat me. Then I felt my hands shake with the fear that comes with no confidence. Then I realized that perhaps if he could be brave enough to face the rope, so could I.

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A new way of thinking

When the animals (starting with Leo) came into my life, I was witness to a new way of thinking. I was presented with a faith that I didn't quite understand. Over the last year I made a conscience decision to change my way of thinking, to shift my view of the world, to allow that level of faith into my world. I did not come to this decision by choice, it was prompted by the loss of my job. That being said it most certainly was a choice, prompted or not.

I can't tell you how many times holding onto that faith, the faith of one that can not imagine lying, found me wanting to give up.

Then I have a moment or two like the ones I had today and I remember why giving up is simply not an option.

Katie was in the arena, just being turned out, nothing work related when Cathy went to get a coffee. I had a new halter I thought I'd like to try. I also had a few bits of information from the night before that I wanted to try with Katie and we were alone.

I got the halter on her and we did perhaps three circles either way, we backed up a few times, well we backed up more than a few times. I found myself walking backward and talked to Katie through my mistake. I remembered that I was holding the rope wrong and told Katie about it, probably apologetically. She shook her head a couple times letting me know that 'yes ok I sorta get what ya want but I think you are doing this wrong' and we started over. Afterward we ran around the arena together, silly as it sounds it is super fun to jog and walk with her; she will follow you're lead and speed (which I suppose is the same thing) and well it's just fun. Afterward we walked around the barn(s) and grazed a bit.

I also took Brody around the property for a bit. We walked around the back of the main arena where Bravo was riding with Cindy and got to say hi to them over the arena wall. We walked around the drive and he got to see Missy and Rio. We walked by the end of the barn and he saw Katie but he only stopped for a brief second and she only cried out for a minute as well. They are working toward a little independence and they are doing remarkably well in my opinion.

None of it was spectacular; all of it reminded me that the faith that I want so badly to embody is right beside me every day and for that I am grateful beyond words, even when I don't understand it.

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Mascara, pony tails, and balance

Sometimes it feels as if this has been my life forever. Sometimes it feels like there has always been a parade of very large four legged creatures running through my life. Sometimes it feels like this desire to save one or two or five or ten has always been there. Sometimes water buckets, hay in my bra, and pitch forks seem more natural then putting on mascara.

There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when putting on mascara could be done without looking, while driving down I5. There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when how I looked on the outside meant the world to me. There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when my grey hair was horrifying.

Tonight I went with Cathy over to Teresa's house for a girls night/hair cutting session. I have done little more then toss my wet hair into a pony tail or a bun since I left Avaland. It will be one year, to the day, in four days. It has not been cut. It has not been touched by a professional. It's had the benefit of perhaps three days where I attempted to wear it down; one day I made it till about noon, one day till nearly four and the third, I barely made ten am.

I have missed the feel of having my hair fussed with professionally. I think tonight I not only found a hair dresser I also found that a bit of balance would be a good thing to think about. I enjoy the girly stuff, I always have. I love my hair, truth be told. I have, of late, found it to be a right pain in the ass. I have neglected it under the guise of "growing it out". This is not to say I didn't want to grow it out, it is to say that a more accurate explanation of why pony tails and no fussing became so attractive is cause it's a pain in my ass. It takes forever to dry, it never does exactly what I want, I am pretty flippin' convinced it'd look way better on someone else's head and frankly I get sick of fucking with it!

In my defense the last 361 days have been filled with horse shit, very little company, and a lot of time spent thinking about what I looked like on the inside.

Balance, I suspect, is in order :-)

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Ima Cool Skip Kid

Katie, officially Ima Cool Skip Kid, is my mare. She is roughly 14.2; I suspect she exceeds the official "pony" measurement however I also suspect that I don't care either which way anymore. I did, at one time, care a great deal that Katie was officially a "pony".  She's also "Impressive Bred"; not necessarily looked at a a good thing. Words like "hot" often come up. Is Katie "hot"; suppose it depends who you ask. I say Katie is as sensitive as she is intelligent and as a result of that well many are put off by her opinions, and she has them. I do think she is "Hot" however I am pretty sure my definition is a touch different (you gotta see her).

Fact is Katie has a bad reputation. She's difficult, she's bitchy, she's this, she's that. I'd like to clear up a few things.

Katie is gorgeous, no one has ever disputed that :-)

Katie is super smart, no one disputed that one either. If there was a "non smart" one in the discussion surrounding me and Katie, it was usually me. Trust me when I say that may have been true the day I bought Katie, it is not always true today.

Katie is sensitive, very.

Katie has trust issues with new people.

Katie makes super mean faces.

Katie bites her boyfriends.

Katie will steal food if given half a chance (she's kinda a pig and would eat herself silly if she could figure out how to accomplish the same).

Katie will give you a kiss if you ask her.

Katie will nuzzle your shirt, jacket, pocket, shoulder, or pony tail if you are standing by her stall and not paying her enough attention. Katie will NOT bite you, she will simply move her nose around like a giant anteater until you relent and tell her how gorgeous she is.

Katie likes to work.

Katie likes to please.

Katie tries her damnedest to do what you are asking.

Katie will tell you if she is unhappy with your treatment of her. After Katie tells you, she will simply not comply, I've seen it happen more than once.

If Katie thinks she is scary to you, she will continue to be scary to you.

Katie doesn't give two shits if she is never in another show again.

Katie hates Mr. Leo. Katie has never kicked Mr. Leo. Katie shakes her head at him every morning when he comes into her stall to drink her water; never once has she done more then that. He understands and leaves, Katie may hate Mr. Leo but she would not hurt him.

Katie shakes her head if she is confused, frustrated, mad, or impatient.

Katie has the cutest nicker ever.

Katie doesn't need to be sold or leased to someone "better" than me. Katie needs to be loved, secure, and able to ride about with her person when we are able.

Katie has that with me, Katie has had that with me for longer then I think I realized. Katie and I will take some good old fashioned lessons together in preparation for spring. Come spring Katie and I will put on super cute English tack and go explore the trails. Katie won't be sold or leased out. Katie is my mare for more reasons than I recognized until very recently.

Katie has proven once again that she is a touch smarter then her person; it didn't take her this long to tell me she was happy ;-)

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Looking closer to home...

A little over a year ago I started this blog. It was after an evening at Diamond Hill Ranch, watching Katie free jump under Sarah's care. I left that evening wondering if I would ever find a place in this world I wanted so badly to be a part of. I left that evening wondering if I would ever do justice to the wonderful mare that I 'owned'. Honestly I left that evening pretty convinced that I would never be able to 'do her justice'. I left that evening feeling a little sorry for myself.

Today, Katie is home. Today, Katie doesn't wait in her stall until it is time to 'work'. Today, Katie eats breakfast in her stall and then she goes outside to play with Brody. Today, I greet Katie with a kiss nearly every morning. Today, when I say "scoot your butt" she moves. Today, I could toss on the bareback pad and  bitless bridle and 'play' (walk / trot in circles) in the arena and never worry. Today, I trust her. Today, she trusts me. Today, I wondered if maybe the belief that Katie was too good for me was played out.

If restarting my lessons is what I want, if a horse at the Ranch I can trust is what I want, perhaps I can look closer to home. Look to the horse that I have loved since I laid eyes on her.

It's a thought...

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"Oh my, you smell like a horse"

Earlier I went up to clean the stalls and Katie came to visit. She likes to stick her head in the window and watch; if I am in Brody's stall she usually gets to munch on the hay he left on the window ledge (he takes a bite, goes to the window, repeat. A lot of hay ends up outside his window and on the ledge!) so it's a win win for the Princess. I tend to sing to her, kiss her big old nose, and tell her a bit about my day.

Today when she stuck her head in the window and I went over to brush the dirt off her neck, perhaps grab a horsey kiss before the real shoveling started, I noticed that she actually smelled like a horse. Because my filter is never in place with the ponies, my first comment to her was "Oh my! You smell like a horse!". Katie usually smells prettier then her mom ;-) I am obsessed with well groomed horses, this is no secret. I have to remind (lecture) myself daily so that I do not go overboard!

Tonight she smelled like a horse; a wonderful musky, warm, honest smell that can never compare to the fussy, perfumed scent that typically follows her around. Instead, she had an admirable amount of dirt on her butt, a smudge on her nose, a twig hanging in her mane, and a healthy dose of horse scents when she leaned into the barn window.

I loved her a little more the moment I took a breath. I didn't even care that she had no idea why it mattered to me that tonight, she smelled like a horse!

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The Princess, AKA P

So Kate and I were talking, those of you that know Kate and I probably have a damn good idea where this story is going!

See there is this horse ;-) I couldn't resist! There is of course a horse in the story, the nice thing is this is a current horse. We aren't sitting about trying to figure out where and which one of us can house a poor horse that is without a home; we are talking about my first horsey love, the wonderful Miss P.

Kate has said that P could come hang out at the barn and I could work with her. P is my dream horse, she has been my dream horse since the moment I picked those tangles out of her mane. I feel safe with P, I know P, I trust P and I plain old love the hell out of that horse. I would have absolutely NO problem taking an hour out of my day to work with P. Those who know me probably have a damned good idea of how huge that is. There are very few horses in this world that I'd feel comfortable pulling out of their stall to work with (not take care of, I'm exceptional with take care of). Cathy has said many times I could ride either Diamond or Cocoa whenever I wanted, I actually got on Duke for a few minutes once. Fact is, I'd probably not have the guts to just decide I wanna ride and walk on over to grab Diamond. This is NOT because Cathy has indicated that I have even one reason to not feel free enough to do just that, it is me and my crazy wackadoo (Kate's word) thought process. This is what I'd do to myself...

1. Sitting in the store I think "Hmm it'd sure be fun to walk (maybe trot) around the arena" (let's face it folks Carol doesn't canter).

2. "Well Cathy said I could always ride Diamond"

3. "Hmmm she even said I could ride Cocoa and he's older" (let's face it folks Carol doesn't canter).

4. "You're not a great rider".

5. "You'll probably confuse them".

6. "Cathy will likely think you are a hack if she sees you and never let you touch another horse again"

7.  Now I'm nervous.

8.  "You'll just make them nervous".

9.  "When are you going to get over this and stop punishing yourself"

10. "Hmmm maybe I'll go wander over and see Rio"

None of that would happen with P. I feel safe with P, I know P, I couldn't feel more comfortable with a horse. I have to talk to Cathy. I really would love for P to be up at the barn with me. I could take an hour out of my day and give her a bath; I'll tell ya what, that girl would be the cleanest Palomino Pony this side of the Mason Dixon line!

I could take her out and we could do ground work (she loves it, really she does). I could take her out and we could walk/trot around the arena  (let's face it folks, Carol doesn't wanna canter). We could practice for trail rides come this summer. P doesn't really wanna go fast, neither do I. She is amazing, out of Hollywood Dun It (she says as if she cares), crazy well bred. She just doesn't want to work too terribly hard and she'd prefer not too many people touch her. Seriously, has there ever been a description of a horse that fits me better than that?! I think not.

Plus, I could kiss her whenever I wanted and I could snuggle up to her mane any time I wanted (she loves it, really she does). There really is nothing like snuggling up in P's mane.

Yep, yep, I must talk to Cathy and Kate and figure this out. P being up there with me would be just flippin' perfect and goodness knows when something is "just flippin' perfect" it warrants a little figuring out ;-)

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