Archive for September 2012
I’ve got to find more of these little yellow petunias for next year. They’ve bloomed their little green hearts out, all summer long.
The blue lobelias I planted with them haven’t done as well, but have flowers even when they don’t have a leaf to their names. I’ll get more of them, too.
It’s been more peaceful around here; no loose horses running around. The most activity centers around a horse that’s coming in. It’s an elderly mare that has had a stroke; and Dr. Paul, the vet, recommended that she have a companion. So the owners got her a goat. The crew’s been working to get a pen tight enough that we won’t have a goat running around. That’s not as serious as a loose horse — unless you happen to be riding by on a horse that’s not used to goats! They’ve done a good job on the pen, though, and there shouldn’t be a problem.
She’s only one of several horses coming in. If they all get here, we’ll be right at 270 horses — all we have room for. It’s a good thing Billy opted for two additional truck-and-trailer loads of hay. We’re going to need it.
Yesterday one of our boarders came pounding at the door, to tell us of an impending disaster. “There’s a horse loose up on the road! A big black horse!”
Now a horse loose on a busy four-lane road is a nightmare. Horses have been killed up there before; and people crippled. Hitting a horse can send a car off the road; even dodging one can lead to a wreck. Billy got in the pickup and headed that way, knowing he’d probably be too late. I ran out and looked up toward the road. Cars were slowing down, but not stopping, despite the black horse dodging in and out of traffic. I knew right away what horse it was; both Billy and I had guessed the moment the words “black horse” were uttered. This horse had been loose before. But then she had come in to the stable and been caught; this time she had run clear up to the road. It wasn’t one of ours, but lives in a yard up in town somewhere.
At last I recognized a couple of people — and dogs — we knew, up on the road. They got traffic stopped and caught the filly. She settled down immediately and led off quietly — while the traffic immediately went back to zipping by her at full speed. Her captors put her in one of our pens and called Animal Control. Someone got hold of the owner, though, and she showed up and took her horse back before anyone got there. Unfortunately.
This is a nice filly who deserves a better home. We couldn’t help but think what would have happened if she had gotten loose at night. A coal-black horse on a dark road? A recipe for tragedy. I hope Animal Control pays the owner a visit soon.
Incidentally, she’s not very big. But looking up at one running down the road — they would look huge!
Anyone could tell that I didn’t get to finish my blog entry yesterday. WordPress started acting up, and at one point I thought I had lost everything in my Picture Library. That’s not a good feeling.
All seems well today, though, and here’s the picture of EZ that I was trying to post yesterday. Here he’s looking for just the right spot to roll.
“Nothing like a nice dusty roll . . .”
“Now! Where’s that lady with the brush? She’s got a lot of work ahead of her . . .”
You wouldn’t believe how the dust sticks to those nice plush fall coats. Unless you’d ever tried to brush one.
Even though there’s a prediction of 100 for next Monday and Tuesday, the horses are beginning to think it’s fall. You can tell because their coats are getting thick and velvety. They’re going to be long and shaggy before we know it.
A case in point; here’s Marion’s handsome near-black EZ in the arena this morning. He’s a little blurry, because he was telephotoed. Is that a word? Well, it is now. Look, though, how his coat is like black velvet.
I was planning to get out and drive today, but we had a crisis in the big arena — a pipe broke — and since the backhoe was working, I decided against sharing the road. Tomorrow’s shopping; maybe Thursday.
We have a new boarder, at least temporarily. He’s one big ol’ boy; a palomino warmblood. To get an idea of how big, look at where the grey Arab next door comes to on the fence. Then look at where the fence comes to on the new boy.
Yep, that’s one big horse. He’s in for a layup while recovering from a hoof abcess. If they were all that size, we’d need a lot more hay!
Watching the backhoe dig out the broken water line reminds me of how lucky we are to be able to have family that can handle one. It’d be a lot harder — and a lot less profitable — if we had to hire someone to do this kind of thing. David is very good with the backhoe, and we have our arena sprinklers working again. Earlier, Scott was using it to load manure to haul away. A backhoe is a handy kind of machine to have around.
But I still don’t want to share the road with it.
It’s very hot today, and there’s not too much activity around here. On the second day of fall, it made it to one hundred — at least. So, between the heat and the Fair, we haven’t seen a lot going on.
Here’s a picture at least. One of the daylilies is still hanging in there.
Maybe tomorrow there’ll be something besides a pretty picture here, but if it stays this hot, I wouldn’t count on it!
Rye and Xena have become friends by now, and play together happily. This is not altogether a good thing, as their play often involves racing in through the doggie door — WHAPPITY-WHAP! (Xena) WHAPPITY-WHAP! (Rye)– making a circle of the living room at top speed, and racing out again — WHAPPITY-WHAP! WHAPPITY-WHAP! Once around the yard, and back they come. This is repeated until humans are driven to put the insert in the door, bringing the game to an abrupt end.
So far, Rye is fitting in very well. There is only one problem. She is a thief. At first it was just little things, like a package of crackers left in reach. Then it was yarn. Well, Xena’s been known to pilfer things, too. But the last item was a bit too much. A few days ago, a boarder forgot a pair of glasses in a case. We set them aside for him to retrieve later.
Then, a couple of days later, I found a case outside. I wondered how the empty case got there, but shrugged and threw it in the trash. It was not in good shape. Later, I found one of those little microfiber cloths for polishing glasses on the lawn, but still the penny didn’t drop.
Then the boarder came to get his glasses, and they weren’t there. Then the light dawned. We went out and retrieved the case from the garbage can — unfortunately, it was on top of a dead squirrel — and he identified it. The glasses, though, were nowhere to be found. They’re still gone. I don’t think she ate them . . . I hope. She’s shown no signs of indigestion, anyway.
After that, we decided it might be best if both dogs spent the night outside. There’s no telling what might disappear next. Rye had just decided she was a full-time house dog, too. But if she decided to play with an electric cord next, she might be a full-time fried dog.
Here’s the culprit . . .
Is that a guilty expression or what? Well . . . maybe not.