Giant toddlers

The last year and some odd months has provided such growth that I can't even come up with a "back then I would have done this" vs "today I'd do that" example that embodies the changes. The very priorities that drove me a year and a half ago are all but foreign to me; I suppose that is example enough.

I could sum it up with something my mom once told me, "work to live, do not live to work". It's an easy idea on the surface however when you live to work, when you become your work, when your value is based on your work, it turns into a very complicated idea.

I am ashamed at the times I judged someone whom did a job that was considered, by the norm, to be menial. I was so proud of what I had done I sort of bought my own bullshit. This is not to say I didn't deserve to be proud, I spent well over twelve years getting to where I was and I was also very good at what I did. This is to say that at the end even though I was, without a doubt, completely burned out, I was also a judgmental ass. Admitting that was not a lot of fun; admitting it to myself that is. Looking at that and going about changing it was a real carnival ride. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out who I was without what I thought made a person successful.

It meant a lot of change because it wasn't really about my job or my career, it was this ridiculous need to prove to the world that I had "beat the odds". And son of a bitch if that didn't just slip right out onto the page and surprise even me. I was going to say it was about control, which of course is a large part of it, however apparently not all of it. I'll deal with that little slip of the thumb in another post.

Back to the control aspect...

Being controlled has it's advantages, the trick is to use that ability to protect yourself as opposed to hurting yourself with it. Again with the slips. Apparently today is stream of conscious day. In any case, it's not a bad thing to be disciplined. I did have to let go of the things that I controlled to mask the deeper problem. Things like letting the dishes sit in the sink, being comfortable with mud on my shoes, learning to go without make up, not judging the lady that walked into the store with five kids or purple hair or with an excess of weight, all of those things that I did (and thought) to appear (feel) perfect (better than) because goodness knows I didn't believe it. These all sound like tiny things however walking out of the house without make up is a big deal, rather was. Working at least a 10-12 hour day was important. Only a slacker worked 8 hours, I was an over achiever, hard working, etc...and again I bought my own bullshit.

Since everything happened I have said "I used to be important" many many times, that is precisely how I felt for a long time. It's not an exaggeration to say that I still have moments when I no longer know exactly what it is that makes me important considering I have no real job, no real lucrative job I should say. I am not anyone's boss, I'm doing things I'd never dreamed of, much less tried, so I can't spout of the many years of experience I have. I don't have my fancy car with it's heated seats and I don't pull down eighty grand a year. In my logical, judgmental, circus ride of  mind all of that equates not important.

Today was my first day off in six days, also my first attempt at a job outside of the horses and the ranch since "everything happened". Naturally I pick a "job" that requires I work twelve hour shifts as well as one that has a sales type salary, in that I "could" make a lot or I "could" suck and make nothing. No pressure. I also picked something that I have never done and would not be considered a "match" considering my skill set. No pressure.

Today, I spent the day up at the ranch. There is something very cleansing about cleaning up after, caring for, the giant toddlers. I've met many a horse, many a dog, many a cat, a few goats, a donkey here and there, and not one of them loved with motive.

This morning Flirt knocked over her water bucket, Carter had his feeder deal half way across the wall, Quinn was banging on his door, someone shit in their bowl (I can't recall who), and that was just the main barn! Down below Blondie and Lad were running amok because they were starving and I apparently walk too slow. Sophie had hay from dinner spread all over her stall, Cy looked to have been practicing some sort of horsey jig on his poop all night long (think horse shit dust), I threw Daisy's hay in a spot where she had just peed and on the morning went. Still, starting my day with them forces me to admit that as discouraged as I may feel I can not ignore my importance in this world that I have created for myself. A world that is completely changed because I am completely changed. A world I don't have to give up regardless of what "job" I choose to do.

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Leo saves the world

Leonidas AKA, Leo, Mr. Leo, Captain Mouth, Captain Trouble, Gorgeous, Love, My Boy, and of course Baby. Leo knows me better than 99.9999% of the people I know. 

Yesterday when I got home I was a little upset and Leo knew it. Never mind that it was the second day in a row where I had been gone for over twelve hours. Two years ago Leo might have found this annoyingly familiar however it has not been his life for about that and as a result he is well within his rights to be upset. We don't do separation well, let me rephrase, we don't do separation often. Yesterday when I got home though, I was upset and Leo knew it. His problems went out the doggy door and he did what he does best, reminded me that no matter what there is someone in the world that loves me without complaint standing right there licking my hand. 

I try my very best not to raise my voice in front of Leo. If I do raise my voice he is instantly upset and sets about trying to fix the wrong that has found me raising my voice. That being the case, I try to limit it. Problem is my voice raises, I rarely "yell" however when I am upset I can get animated and it upsets him. I adore him and really don't like him upset so I do what I can to control myself. 

Yesterday I must have apologized to Leo five times for my temper tantrum that 99.9999% of the population would not have even noticed. It was a combination of things that wanted desperately to boil over so I ended up doing what I do; I went to the barn, let the horses in the yard, watched them graze and sang to Leo. I sorta pretended to clean the barn, which was clean, much to my disappointment. Yes, I was even upset that I didn't get to clean the stalls. I had been gone from home from 5:45am till 7:15pm for two days in a row, the schedule I had set for myself was proving to be grueling and god damn it I had was looking forward to cleaning the stalls. Not a lot of anything was making me happy right about 7:45pm last night until of course I looked at Leo who was sitting in the middle of the drive way watching the horses and me, respectively. I was bouncing around and doing stretches (of all things) on Brody's gate & singing to Leo. I realized that me continuing to be all twisted up was just going to further upset him so I turned up Kenny Chesney, listened to Brody's song (I believe there is magic) and counted all the reasons why it'd be ok, they'd be ok, and so would Leo. 

Without Leo, I'd have blown a fuse, said some of the ugly things that come to mind when I have convinced myself that the world is going to finally fall apart at my feet and it'd all be because I suck. It's a little nutty however I can easily go from "oh shit the cable bill is late" to "I'm going to lose everything, the horses and Leo deserve better, I'm an awful mom and deserve to lose it all, if only I'd stop being so god damn stubborn I could be in an office somewhere making a lot of money, etc..". 

With Leo, I turn up Kenny Chesney, take his little face in my hands and let him lick my face, apologize for doubting the world and talk myself off the ledge. 

Leo has been saving me since the day I brought him home; yesterday he saved the world for me once again. Figured he deserved kudos. If I weren't so damned tired I'd probably have been more eloquent about it :-)

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Mom's day, today

It's mother's day; I have been a mom for 60.46511627906976% of my life. In two and a half months that percentage will change to 62.7906976744186; in three and a half months that will change again and go down to 61.36363636363637. Fun with numbers! Frankly I think I was born a mom, this is both a good and bad thing.

Today my son is in California and I am in Washington. We spoke on the phone earlier. It's strange to be the mother of someone closer to thirty then he is to twenty; stranger still to be a state away from one another.

Today, I am home with my four legged children enjoying the rare sunshine, waiting for the dryer to finish so I can hop in the shower and then climb onto Brody and get dirty all over again.

I didn't have breakfast in bed or anything like that. Today I got up, went with Leo to the barn to feed all the horses at Diamond Hill. Leo loves this part of the day and honestly so do I. He really believes he is helping and that this part of his day is to be taken seriously. If I change the routine, if one of the horses is in a stall that they aren't normally in, if someone is gone on a trip and not there, he notices and lets me know. It's all very important to him. When we are done we go to the gas station and he gets paid with a pepperoni stick and sometimes a dog bone from the ladies that work there. I wonder if he figures he did extra well that day.

It's all very important to me too. I love the horses at the ranch. They, along with Leo, Katie, Brody, & Rev, wake me up each morning and remind me that this life, this world, although not without troubles, is beautiful and filled with love.

It's what being a mom has always been to me, even before I could spit out impressive percentages!

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Clever titles are overrated.

Have you ever stood in a seriously dirty room, turned in a circle, and summarily walked out? That's about how I feel about my blog tonight.

I thought I'd figure out a clever title and that would keep me focused. As you can see/read, that did not happen.

So I'm stuck in this horribly dirty room hoping for a little focus, if we're lucky I'll get profound.

Perhaps a list?

1. A family came and looked at Katie. I haven't heard from them and am trying to forget they ever came; not because they might not buy Katie. I'd like to forget them because I don't like (in a big way) the thought of selling Katie, period.

2. Rev has what appears to be a cold. I'm trying not to obsess. I am going to put him back on Vitamin C and get him some probiotics, if only to make myself feel better. I don't know that he has a cold but his nose is runny, it was very runny today when Cathy and I were working with him. His eye also had goop, nothing like when he first came still, there was goop.

3. We attempted to put a bridle on Rev today and he was none too pleased. It bothers me that he didn't want anything to do with it. It does not bother me because that means we will have to go slow, we all know I am not a let's jump on the horse kinda gal. Let's face it, the last thing I ask/require is them accepting me on their back. I don't, and wouldn't, give two shits if it took Rev and I months to get there. It bothers me because he was unhappy and I am not sure the cause. It could be his teeth, which I have to address regardless. It could be something that happened to him prior that has him so intent on rejecting. It's hard to say. It really doesn't matter if it's either or a combination of the two. It just means we address everything slowly and we call the dentist for good measure. It bothers me, this idea that he is scared and/or uncomfortable. We will get through it, of that I have no doubt. Still, it bothers me that he is bothered. And so we do another do-si-do around the messy room that has become my blog.

4. I simply must figure out what I'm going to do with myself. This particular room is so messy I only do a half circle before I walk out.

There we have a list, a relatively useless one at that. Normally I am a big fan of lists; tonight I am just a big fan of making them as a distraction.

The last item on that list is the problem, it has me walking in circles that make little sense; as if walking in circles ever makes sense!

What to do? What do to?

Fact is, I can't imagine the care of horses not being the core of what I 'do with myself'. Fact is, that will never find me in a position where budgets matter little. Fact is, I could sell my soul to the software world and make the material problems less material. Fact is, selling my soul is exactly how it would feel. Actually, betrayal comes to mind when I seriously consider it. That's interesting, who would I be betraying? I think myself and the animals as well. I remember sitting paralyzed by fear when I was kicked off the island, I remember looking at the horses or Leo and feeling myself come back. I remember vowing to never find myself in a place where 12 hours away from home was normal. It'd be a betrayal of the highest order, perhaps that's why I liken it to 'selling my soul'. Strangely enough when all this started I was convinced I'd never find myself, much less my way, unless I went back to what I 'did'. I defined myself through my work, my 'success', without that what was I?

Turns out, I am a lot more. Also turns out that figuring out what to do with that 'a lot' is much like an ultra messy room on a bright sunny day; slightly overwhelming, especially when you don't turn the circle and walk out.

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No one left bread crumbs

Sitting here I have written at least five opening sentences. It is not surprising that the topic that finds me unable to write is Katie.

I placed an ad for Katie about a month ago. I didn't renew the ad after the initial seven days expired, mostly because I don't really want anyone to answer the ad! I got a couple responses, only one that was worth my, or Katie's, time.

I have worried over Katie's future for a long time, I'd say it started the minute I saw her. I look at her and I only want the absolute best for her. She has always, always, evoked the very best in me.

There is something very special about Katie that makes it really hard not to fall in love with her. It's not because she is an easy, laid back pony that anyone could crawl on. It's not because she is an angel in the pasture with the other horses either :-).

Katie is smart, sensitive, and tends to think she is a Princess in horse form. She is a bossy pain in the ass to the other horses that share her barn, pasture, and people.

Katie is expressive, if she is upset or frustrated she will shake her head. She will pin her ears and look like a giant snake, not to mention the scariest pony ever, if the dog comes near her; she won't however, hurt the dog.

Katie thinks she is the most important person on the property.

Katie will rub her nose on you like the biggest ant eater you've ever seen however, she would never bite you.

Katie loves watermelon, cantaloupe, bananas, and pretty much any fruit that she is allowed (is safe) to eat. I make homemade horse treats; Katie is the worse tester ever (she loves everything!).

Katie is so clean in her stall that I suspect she'd go outside if only she could figure out the latch on her stall door.

Katie was treated poorly when she was young, by a trainer that asked her in ways that were harsh. Have I mentioned that Katie is sensitive?

Katie was passed around a lot; a lot of people have "owned" Katie. Have I mentioned that Katie is sensitive?

Katie had/has trust issues.

Katie has worked very hard to get over the better part of that. Sarah helped bring Katie to where she is today. The horse Katie was when she began with Sarah is not the horse that enjoys the farm today. A lot of the trust that Katie has found in herself is due to the time she spent with Sarah.

Watching her today with that young girl I felt so proud; proud for her, not of her. I do believe there is a difference.

They arrived and Katie and Brody were in the pasture. I called Katie and she came, they remarked on how she was easy to catch. I don't suppose they realized that any time I call Katie it means something good so why wouldn't she come!? Anyway we stood in the pasture for a few minutes; Brody was very curious to see a halter being put on Katie in the pasture. We walked down to the arena area with Brody in tow and talked a bit.

They had brought their saddles/tack (upon request) and while the trainer and the girls went to get everything, I stood there with Katie and I inside the arena and the girl's dad on the outside with a slightly confused Brody. Brody had taken a real shine to the father by the end of the visit.

I, naturally, had to launch into a "all that is unattractive about Katie" speech. I think he thought I was nuts. He'd ask "How is she with the farrier?" I'd babble "Oh gosh, she's great with the farrier, and her feet are solid, she's actually really easy." All of that is true. It does not have to be followed up by "you know, she's great in all the 'regular horse' ways but she is sensitive and she is smart so she needs someone that is experienced, she sorta expects her rider to know what they are doing, and you know she is a mare, she's not bitchy (oops pardon my language) when she is in season but she is a mare and she is usually the lead mare, not with people but with horses she can be kinda bitchy (oops pardon my language)..." The poor guy, it happened when he asked about the farrier, loading, and even grooming.

I could just as easily said, yes please buy/care lease my horse because she's a great fit for your daughter but oh wait no don't do that cause I can't stand the thought of her really leaving so perhaps this is a bad idea.

A shame no one left breadcrumbs; had they, this path might be easier to navigate.

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Calgon take me away (or all that is scary in a world of washracks).

Rev moved up to the ranch (Diamond Hill) Friday. He did really well; he was loaded into a trailer that surely had teeth, lead into a washrack that had a drain that could suck down Godzilla, and still, he survived!

Rev was nervous, there was poop; on the driveway, in the trailer, in the washrack, there was poop.

He really did do well. Rev has only had two owners before myself. So this is, in my world of unicorns and rainbows, the third place he's lived. I do realize that he's probably resided in more homes than he has had owners. When we loaded him in the trailer, he didn't want to go. I don't begin to really know why he didn't want to go into that trailer. I have my ideas; one of which is that because his life had been recently shaken up he was in no mood to have that happen again; trailers mean new places and he had grown comfortable where he was.

It could have also been as simple as he didn't like the straight load.

Who knows? Rev. In the end, it was not a huge (or long) ordeal, got in the trailer and off he went. Cathy was driving the truck and I was following her, when we got there she remarked that he was quiet as a mouse. He was, it appeared, busy pooping.

After a bit we started the process of giving him a bath. You have to understand, Rev has a lot of hair. I'm talking woolly monster hairy! Rev's hair was also pretty dirty. I had been dying to give him a bath. I'd have likely moved him to Diamond Hill just for the washrack truth be told.

So we walk Rev in and out a few times, Cathy then me. Cathy turned on the water and we did it some more. I am pretty sure Rev thought the drain was gonna suck him right down into god knows where. He'd do really well for a bit then he'd remember that he was terrified and back he'd go, right out of the washrack with me in tow. He didn't lift me off the ground every time we went flying out of the washrack, he only did that about five times. We'd go back in, his little heart beating a mile a minute and we'd continue. The water was warm and there was a lot, a lot, of soothing conversations and pets, in the end we got through it just fine.

I woke up the next day puzzled that my arm was sore. It's still pretty sore today. He's a big guy and apparently being lifted up by one arm can result in a little soreness in the following days.

I wrote that off and on throughout the weekend and in re-reading it I must say, it's a pretty boring post. It's Monday now and I am happy to report my arm is intact. Rev has had a good couple days and seems happy there. He made friends with Rio, he and Rio share a pasture during the day. He also adores Sophie, she is in the stall next to Rev.

I'll write more this evening because I really am excited about him being up there and it's been a good few first days for him. For now however I am just going to publish this rather boring post about my arm so I can get it out of the way!

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You don't have to climb into the ring with the gorilla.

I'm often viewed as passive. I refuse to believe that a physical reaction is anything but that; a reaction, and a stupid one at that.

This is not to say that I do not get angry enough to want to physically punish someone for a hurt caused to me or a being I love.

That is a huge misconception.

I've tried many times to write on this subject. There is a phrase that dances around in my head every time I sit down and attempt to explain my feelings surrounding violence. I choose, every single time, not to use it. It's melodramatic and belongs in a poem, buried beneath metaphor.

Truth is I don't believe in violence. I have never believed that wacking someone, human or otherwise, taught them anything other than "If you do this you will get wacked and that will hurt". It effectively teaches fear. It generally does not teach the why behind the no. I still can't wrap my head around people thinking that this will result in a well behaved and responsible anyone, human or otherwise.

Truth is, I have never punched someone partly because I can't stand the thought of hearing the sound it must make much less feeling it run up my arm.

Truth is, I don't like myself so much when I am that angry and would likely like myself less if I actually clocked the source of that anger, human or otherwise.

When you look at it like that, my beliefs could be viewed as completely self serving.

Truth is, I really do believe we have a choice. I also believe that it takes more strength to walk away (literally and figuratively speaking) from violence (in all forms) than it takes to participate in the same.

Truth is, I believe, in part, that it takes more strength because our society tells us that those that do walk away are weak. No one wants to be viewed as weak. Pride, God love it.

Truth is, I believe, in part, that it takes more strength because it requires thought, it makes you look at the why behind the no (figuratively speaking); not just the reaction to the same.

You really don't have to climb into the ring with the gorilla, it is a choice, one that often takes more strength than most believe.

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The reality, or horrors, of loving a horse person

I ran into someone I know at the grocery store this evening. She was a fellow horse person that I rarely saw outside of a barn environment. While we were standing there, each in our respective lines, she reached up and found hay in her hair and remarked about the same. I was just glad to finally see someone in line, aside from myself, with hay in her hair!

It's a common theme if you're around horses, so is mud and smelling like horse poop (I personally don't think horse poop smells like much but some people obviously disagree, who knew?!). I suppose it's no fun to cuddle up to someone that has hay in her hair, mud on her shoes, horseshit on her gloves, and doesn't even care! However, that doesn't touch the true horrors of being a friend or loved one of a horsey person, by that I really mean an animal person. It's not all about the horses ya know, sometimes it's about the dog!

I can't imagine what life is like for people around me. I am a very patient person, I'm a very caring person, and I have a crazy ability to be objective in nearly every situation. I am loyal, trustworthy, don't gossip (as much as I could), don't hit, or do mean things on purpose. All in all I'm not bad to be around however, I also...

Firmly believe my dog has feelings that need to be considered; this is not to say that Leo makes decisions but Leo's well being and comfort are always a consideration. If Leo is sick, god forbid, he gets first class care. If a human is sick, god help the grown human that is sick in my presence, I am slightly less sympathetic. Leo can lick his butt sitting next to me but my goodness if you are a person please do not spit in my presence, it's disgusting. Leo can lick my face before I have had my eyes open for two seconds...I am sure you see where that one is going!

I will sum up my devotion to the very large toddlers simply by saying, the other night I spent over three hours creating a mash that I researched for two weeks prior, on the off chance that it'd help Brody get more weight on (who is fine by the way). The mash was a big hit!

I am forever bothered by one horsey dilemma or the next and I will spend hours explaining it to you.

There is always a horse, a dog, a chicken, a rooster, a donkey, or a duck that is in need. Somehow I catch wind of these things and most times want to help in any way I can.

I'll make sure these guys all have their vitamins. You as a human are responsible for taking yours, which includes making sure you have them.

I can't sit through a real television show however I will sit here for hours penning some fanciful blog about how great Katie is.

I'll shove a sandwich down my throat cause I acknowledge that eating is required and not think for two seconds about the mud, that is likely half shit, under my finger nails.

I will wash a horse blanket in the washer for people clothes even though I have one for the horse blankets at the barn, sometimes it's raining and I don't care to make the trip; blankets must be washed plain and simple.

I will also put the horse blankets in the people dryer to take the chill off it if they've been sitting in the cold barn all day.

I will drag mud through the house, stir beet pulp with kitchen spoons, and steal various tupperware containers that I believe to be the best measuring devices ever.

I will tell you how to clean the stalls, or I'll follow behind you and do it the "right way" after you've left to spare your feelings, ask my son. I'll also leave dishes in the sink and my fuzzy socks in the living room with no regret. I'm tired, I likely just cleaned the rooms of many giant toddlers.

I will wear big giant, floppy, muddy boots to the store and be offended if you ask me something to the affect of "You're wearing that?".

I will put on make up but I generally need a reason beyond getting out of bed and starting the day. My hair is forever in a sloppy pony tail and not because I studied how to make a fashionable mess of my hair!

I will pick up poop with my hand, I will touch a stall floor to see if it's damp or just "dirty", I will pee in a stall alongside my horse but god forbid you open the bathroom door when I am in there!

Yep, yep it's gotta kinda blow to be a people in my little world!

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He figured she'd gone back to Austin

I haven't written much about Austin, I really should have introduced him properly. Austin is a Walker, has a beautiful chestnut coat, the best mane and tail ever, and a very large nose :-) He's also got the best personality this side of the Mississippi.

Austin came up to Diamond Hill on a care lease for a couple months, he was to be my "confidence builder" because I was feeling low.

Austin is about the most laid back guy on the planet, Cindy used to joke and call him Austin Power Nap because he was forever sleepy faced.

Austin and I played an awful lot, Austin and I talked a lot, Austin and I hung out a lot. He was/is just that cool. Austin figured out pretty quickly that I not only believed he had an opinion I also wanted to hear it, and we talked more. I am aware that Austin doesn't speak English very well. I am pretty sure most of what I said to him sounded like a Charlie Brown cartoon, still, we talked. A lot of what we discussed happened over breakfast, he was most agreeable when his face was buried in warm beet pulp.

Austin took me on my very first, off the property, big girl trail ride(s). Austin didn't care if our time together in the arena was spent walking to the edge and looking at the tree tops, if we actually got into a trot that was fine but if we didn't, well that was fine too. He did protest now and again but he's so harmless that him kicking up his heels makes me chuckle still. We even ran around the arena together on foot, I am awfully glad no one was around when we were playing our "ohhh lets run this way, wait wait no lets walk, ok lets run again" little game, I'm all but positive they'd have thought I had lost my mind. He was never too interested in the ball but we tried that too. We really just had fun together. He was like a vacation from the serious horses I have here at home (Brody is a very serious guy and Katie well she is pretty darned serious most days too). When I saw Austin it was like greeting an old friend and I always knew that even if we didn't do much of anything I'd still love every second.

I love every second I have with my guys here at home too, it's just a different relationship.

I suppose that's part of the beauty, they are all different personalities and the relationships we have with them, they are all different as a result. At least for me that's what it is like. Every relationship is different; with Austin, he just plain old makes me smile and although I will still see him I am gonna miss our morning talks, kissing his big nose, our evenings, and everything in between! He's a great horse, I should say, great friend, and give the old guy his due :-)

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Why I am proud (or my hero carries a rasp)

Joe, the farrier, was out today. I was pretty excited because it was Brody's fourth go round and his foot was very close to looking downright handsome. I was pretty sure we'd walk away from today's appointment with photo worthy tootsies for Mr. Brody.

Rev was going to have the benefit of Joe, that also excited me. He's got some cracks that concern me, had a mild to moderate case of scratches, and was definitely long in the toe. I knew Joe would do a few things, all of them hugely important to me. I knew he'd introduce himself to Rev and not just manhandle him, I knew he'd ask me where he was from, what he had been through, what my concerns were, and I knew he'd follow all that up with talking me through every move he made on Rev's feet.

Yes Miss. Katie was done however, her feet are pretty easy; she's got perfectly healthy strong feet. Trim 'em up and she is done. Today was no different for her. The only difference with Katie is there is no misbehaving allowed; she knows way better. In her defense she never does :-) The only thing we discussed was her impressive (no pun intended) legs.

Joe didn't disappoint; Brody went first. Brody, although he knows Joe, still looks like he is convinced if he gives up that foot...it might not come back. He also likes to side step out of reach. Joe always manages to calm Brody's nerves and Brody has gotten much better as a result. Brody's face shows it all, I worry when I see him upset. Joe, thankfully, understands my desire to wrap Brody in bubble wrap and does not sidelong glace at me while I stand there and rub his chest, talk softly to him and kiss his big giant nose. It not only helps me relax that Joe doesn't judge, it helps Brody. As I had hoped Joe was able to remove almost the very last bit of that horrible hole Brody had in his toe. His foot looks downright cute in my opinion. His backs are in great shape and his other front is as well. I do believe that my favorite thoroughbred is well past the hump that caused me to wanna wrap him in bubble wrap! I'll still worry and when he gets that "Oh no" look in his eyes I'll still rub his chest and whisper to him. I'll still want to wrap him in bubble wrap but with each passing day Brody proves himself to be stronger than most would have thought possible eight months ago.

People who knew Brody when he was rescued see him, or pictures of him, now and say things that praise my efforts. The other day my mom said something about what a good job I had done with him, we were talking about how great he is doing I am sure. In any case, I replied that he had really done all the work; I didn't make him better, I just gave him what he needed to start the process. That included bringing people into his life like Joe and scores more that have helped me to make the right decisions where his recovery is/was concerned. I facilitated. You bet I am proud as all get out when I look at him, he's an amazing being and for some reason he found it in him to trust me and allow himself to accept the care he needed.

He had a choice. He was in horrible condition, he had been in pain a long time, and the poor guy had virtually no hope left. He decided to accept the help, he didn't have to. Brody could have gone in either direction, that he chose to let me help him makes me proud.

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Mother Nature must be Bipolar

I try to stay positive. I succeed more than I fail.

Today I am just sick sick sick of the cold and rain and snow and every other yuck weather thing Mother Nature has decided to toss our way, she's bipolar I swear! The days are lasting longer and I all I wanna do is hang out in the barn and since I can't...I'm whining on my blog.

Stupid rain, your making a mess of the gate area. Stupid rain, we had to put a tarp over Brody's favorite look out spot and he is bothered cause well that damn thing might just eat him. Stupid rain, the ponies can't play all day like they want to. Stupid rain, Leo is going nuts! Stupid rain, you are making me cranky!

I was inspired earlier to write something more to my liking, lovey dovey, kissy faced, and all that but not now. Stupid rain.

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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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