Freelance horses

I looked out our back door a couple days ago, and saw four horses loose on the road.

We don't know everyone in the neighborhood yet, but we do know one family with horses. I gave them a call, and they said nope, all their animals are accounted for. They suggested I get in touch with another family.

So I did, but all their horses were accounted for too.

Oh great. Freelance horses.

Meanwhile our driveway gate was open, so I closed it lest we have freelance visitors.

The horses were actually very sweet and calm, just happily browsing on the spring grass.

(Bonus photo: random pheasant.)

Meanwhile, the second family I called had an idea who the animals might below to, and were trying to reach them by phone. They drove two vehicles up with a vague hope of blocking the animals in.

It didn't work, and the horses slipped past the second vehicle and moved deeper into the valley. That was the last any of us saw them.

Hours later, a stranger drove up to the house and introduced himself as Will. He was the owner of the horses, and stopped at our place since we were the last people who had seen what direction the animals went. He said the horses had escaped from a loose gate on a piece of property located above our house. We weren't much help locating the horses, but he was a pleasant fellow and it was nice to meet yet another neighbor.

The next morning, as Don and I finished Mr. Darcy's morning walk, we looked up at the property above ours, and saw the horses contentedly grazing.

So the horses are freelance no more, but at least the road isn't blocked.

Country moment

Don and I heard shrieks of laughter this afternoon. We looked outside and saw three young people galloping their horses up the road. A few minutes later, they went galloping down again.

Just healthy high spirits on a spring day.

Sweet spring things

A couple of recent "sweet spring things."

Reader Natokadn sent photos of a pretty little filly her horse just had:

All together now: "Awww...."

Then a few days ago, I heard the rumble of a ATV coming up our driveway, driven by a neighbor with his 13-year-old daughter. The daughter jumped off and handed me a little crafted bouquet bearing the motif "Happy spring":

Then she jumped back behind her dad and off they went to visit another neighbor and hand out a little more sunshine.

All together now: "Awww...."

Happy spring.

A new home for Brit

We've had Brit, our horse, for the past twelve years.

She's a purebred Appaloosa and was born on our neighbor's farm. At the time this neighbor had a lot of babies born and owed us a favor, so he gave us Brit for free. ("Brit" is Celtic for "spotted.") Our daughters were 9 and 11 when we got her, and we thought for sure they'd want to ride a horse. Every tween and teen girl is interested in horses, right?

Wrong. The girls just never developed an interest, and Don and I have no experience in training horses, so for over a decade Brit has been a herd-guardian and something of a pet, but nothing more.

But a horse needs a purpose in life, so we've been actively looking for a new home for her with someone who is horse-savvy and perhaps has a tween or teen girl who wants to ride.

Unexpectedly last week, we found such a family. A gentleman named Jason called about our cows, and when he came over (with his 10-year-old daughter) to look over our Dexters, I happened to mention Brit was free to a good home. Next thing we knew, Brit had a good home.

Coincidentally, a couple months ago, we had a horse expert come over and put Brit through her paces to determine how much training she would need before she would become a good riding animal. Sarah L. was truly an expert horsewoman, and it was awe-inspiring to watch her at work.

Among many things she did, Sarah put ropes around Brit's legs and pulled them up to see how she would react. (As it turns out, quite calmly.)

Sarah concluded Brit would need about three months' of training. Armed with this information, we set out spreading the word Brit was available. When Jason expressed an interest in Brit, we were able to tell him what Sarah had said.

When Jason came to pick her up, Brit acted skittish and wouldn't let him put a halter on her.

But shucky-darn, the 10-year-old daughter just happened to have a bucket of oats with her which proved irresistible.

With some patient coaxing and firm handling, Jason soon had a halter and lead rope on Brit. Then came the next challenge: loading her into the horse trailer, a gizmo she had never seen (from the inside) and didn't like.

She took a bit of persuasion to go in, but the rope trick worked like a charm and she loaded without a problem.

So now Brit is gone, living with a horse-loving family who will be able to train her as a horse should be trained, complete with a darling little tween girl to lavish her with affection.

We don't miss Brit, exactly, except for certain odd moments here and there. For example, every morning when I stepped outside to do farm chores, Brit would inevitably spot me and whinny. For years I've played a little game with her. I would step outside and say, "Frau Blücher!" If Brit whinnied before I said that, she won. If she whinnied after I said that, I won.

(For those who are wondering about this, it's a scene from the hilarious Mel Brooks movie "Young Frankenstein" with the indomitable Marty Feldman.)



So I can no longer play my little "Frau Blücher" game, but it's a small price to pay for giving Brit a useful, purposeful life.

Spring is NOT cooperating. Or is it?

We haven't had a winter like this in some time.

In the garden, the garden tires were practically buried under drifts.

The taller tires in the orchard had big drifts around them as well.

For a few short days, we were able to walk Lydia in the pasture, but that stopped after drifts once again blocked the gate, so we're back walking her on the road (which has stayed clear thanks to the diligence of a neighbor with a plow on his truck). I took Lydia out one afternoon just before an incoming squall quashed a rare patch of blue sky.

Here it comes (blurry photo, sorry).

The wind whipped snow across the road. This -- not surprisingly -- is why we have drifts that keep catching cars.

Yep, time to get back indoors.

Even Lydia agreed.

This lady seems as annoyed by the snow as everyone else.

Thursday morning, we had three inches of the lightest, fluffiest snow imaginable. Despite a winter of the white stuff, I had to admit it was very pretty.

The grape trellis Don installed last June looked delicate with its snow covering.

And then, suddenly, it was over. Winter was over. It was like a great celestial switch flipped. Temperatures rose above freezing (yesterday we hit a dazzling 48F !!) and the land started shucking off its mantle of snow. Thursday afternoon I drove into Coeur d'Alene, and the fields were taking on a piebald appearance.

Deer are taking advantage of the retreating snow to nibble at the withered grasses beneath.

Yesterday was blustery with high winds, but we had sunshine. I took advantage of the retreating snow to scrub out the cattle water tank. Here Matilda's calf Sean investigates my activities.

Refilling the tank (I even unplugged the tank heater!).

Matilda and Sean have spent the winter in the corral and barn, partly because elderly Matilda -- who is bottom of the bovine pecking order -- wouldn't be able to compete with the others at the feed boxes, and partly because they got snowed in and we couldn't open any gates to let them out. But I can dig out the gate now, and they'll be able to rejoin the herd during the day.

Here Brit, our horse, drowses in the sunshine and enjoys the novelty of standing on bare ground.

The weather in the foreseeable future looks decent. I guess we have broken the back of winter.

Today a neighbor and I are attending a day of gardening workshops in Spokane. I, for one, am looking forward to the day I can get into the garden and apply some of what I hope to learn.

Sometimes a veterinarian isn't necessary

We've had some grim moments this week.

A few days ago, Don shot our barn cat. This little lady adopted us shortly after we arrived in Idaho 13 years ago. At the time, she was presumably a young cat but of an unknown age, and for all these years she was Don's faithful companion in the shop. He's doctored her for a few things over the years, but advancing age and a lack of teeth meant it was almost impossible for her to get any nutrition, no matter how much Don tried to alter the consistency, presentation, and variety of food. Essentially she was starving.

When I suggested we take her into the vet to have her put down, he disagreed. She's lived virtually her whole life on the farm. To suddenly get bundled into a box and driven somewhere strange would be more traumatic than to take care of the matter himself. As he put it, sometimes it's the kindest thing you can do for an old friend. Choosing the right moment when the cat didn't see it coming, he put her out of her misery. Then he came back inside and wrapped me in a hug for a long, long time.

Then yesterday, our new neighbors (who inherited two horses with the property) called in alarm, asking which vet we could recommend. They were concerned one of the horses had a broken leg. Don first called another neighbor D., who is a horse expert. While waiting for D. to arrive, we walked over and looked at the horse, who was right at our fence line.

It was unmistakable. This beautiful animal clearly had a horribly broken right foreleg. She stood trembling and breathing heavily in her pain. No one saw how she had attained such an injury, but a horse with a broken leg is pretty hopeless.

When D. came over, he had a .45 strapped to his hip. He and Don went over to the neighbor's pasture and consulted with them, then gave the horse a fast checkup and confirmed she had broken her leg in three places. Calling a vet wasn't necessary.

D. haltered the other (healthy) horse and put her in the barn (out of sight). Then he asked the grieving neighbors to go into their house. Don stayed with D. because, as he told me later, he wanted to see how putting down a large animal humanely was done.

I came into the house and told Younger Daughter not to be surprised when she heard a gunshot, which came within minutes.

Meanwhile I called around until I found someone with a backhoe to dig a hole sufficiently large to bury the horse.

No need to call a vet in hopeless circumstances, especially when there are good men like Don and D. who unshirkingly do what must be done.

Friday Roundup

Seems like the days fly past since once again it's time for our Friday Roundup, where we all pitch in the things we did during the week -- big or small -- that contributed toward self-sufficiency.

We've had a productive week, even working through an early and nasty heat wave (highs in the low 90s, ug). Here's what we got done this week:

• Our cow Victoria (the dark red animal) had her calf out in the pasture, a little bull (here Polly is sniffing at him).

Victoria is an experienced mama so I wasn't worried. We'll have to capture the little guy and castrate in a few days. Meanwhile Younger Daughter named him Jerky. As in beef.

• Our Jersey Giant chicks arrived at the post office.

Considering the breed is giant, the chicks are sure tiny. But they all looked healthy (we also have one "mystery bird" the hatchery threw in for free).

We set up a box with food and water (and later a heat lamp).

After dipping each one's beak in water (to teach it how to drink)...

... they settled into their new home.

So far they appear to be a very calm breed. The chicks are less "hysterical" when we change their food and water.

• Don worked like mad through that hideous heat wave, finishing up the fence area he tore out last week in order to re-do it properly. He mixed concrete in the tractor bucket...

...straightened all the poles, and set them up.

He took a trip to town and splurged on ten cattle panels (sometimes called hog panels). They're expensive, but we're love them because they're sturdy, long, and portable (meaning, we can move them from place to place as needed). We try to buy a few every year, so this is our year's allotment.

Then he installed the panels to the poles. He wants to fasten boards top and bottom to lock the panels in place (and prevent the animals from pushing them either at top or bottom), but he delayed this step because of the heat.

Doesn't it look great?

• He also set up the cattle panels in a clever gate system to span the driveway and make a "chute" between one pasture and the other, which means we don't have to rotate the cattle around the entire property before putting them in the woods. At sunset the day Don finished the fence, we tried out the system. We can even close the gate at the end of the driveway so the animals can crop the grass growing along the road.

Here Brit is waiting impatiently for Don to open the fence.

The animals all respond to our universal "Bossy bossy bossy" call, and milled around the fence until we opened it up.

Victoria made it through the gate just fine, but little Jerky (only 24 hours old at this point) got lost, so I heaved him up and carried him across the driveway.

But Don's new gate system worked flawlessly. Within moments the cows were on the cooler wooded side of the property, which offered them shade from the broiling temperatures (although as of this writing, the heat wave has broken, whew).

• This isn't really preparedness-related, but I noticed this group of ravens gathered on a distant treetop.

We've been having ravens all over the place lately. Don't know why.

• I skimmed all the cream from the milk which had accumulated in the fridge, and made three pounds of butter (which I froze).

• A neighbor made about a dozen trips over with his trailer to get compost to work into a large garden area. Don loaded it with the tractor.

He cleaned out a lot of our compost, which is great since we now have room to re-pile more as it comes.

• The girls picked strawberries. Third time this week. The berries are starting to ripen fast.

• We got the drip system up for the ancillary vegetables -- bell peppers, cayenne peppers, broccoli -- that I started in the house.

Then I got everything planted. I don't think the broccoli will make it, though.

Here are the cayennes.

• Didn't get photos, but we got the corn tires topped with compost. The next step is to get the drip system in place, and plant seed. It's awfully late to plant corn, but I have enormous confidence that the short-season open-pollinated variety we tried last year, Yukon Chief, will yield successfully. Last year we planted on June 5 and harvested on August 29, and got 600 ears. I'm hooked on this corn variety.

That was our week. What have you done?