Two days ago I rode Elliot for the very first time. I have been on his back before, even sat there for about 20 minutes, except he didn't understand my cues to walk forward, so he just stood there, turning his head to nudge at my legs.
But Sunday I was ready, had made plans to ride him. I brushed him, cleaned his hooves, and saddled him up. Then I put on the hackamore I have had for 20 years. I had purchased it for a little Arabian I had way back in 1988 - Sasha.
I lunged him first to take any piss and vinegar out of him and then Hubby took the dogs for Jeep ride around the property while I walked Elliot to my pick up. I led him to the back where the tail gate was down and used that to sit in the saddle. He wanted to stop by the bushes to munch, so I had to use some coaxing to get him to keep walking, but he did.
We did two ventures around the pasture.
Looking at the pictures Hubby took, I plan to do a couple of things differently.
One is is bridle. I knew it was small and had looked at others, but hadn't found anything here I really liked. I will order one today. It is much too small for him. Plus, I didn't have reins. I do now.
Two, I don't like the look of the Austrailan saddle on him. Hubby has been encouraging me to buy a Western saddle. I will do that real soon as well.
And, three, the martingale has to go. I realized that Sunday when I was riding him - you see, because he is still green, he does not understand reining and the martingale restricts the radius of pulling the reins from one side or the other. He is not a head thrower or anything like that, and all I was using them for was to keep the saddle from slipping back. We'll just leave them off next time.
It felt so wonderful to be up on his back. Now for me to get back to the weight I was when I brought him home and for him to grow a little taller.
Tuesday
Yesterday my young neighbor, Eric, a teen of perhaps 16, stopped by to ask me how he could fatten this young horse he had brought home. The horse had been starving when he was able to talk the woman into letting him bring it home. It is a small paint of mostly deep brown. Eric had been told the little colt was a year old, but I pointed out his gangly legs and said I felt pretty confident he was not more than eight or nine months old.
I then motioned to Elliot and explained that he would be two in April and that he was more what a two year old colt should look like.
Eric's heart is in the right place though.
So, as I sit here, with dawn slow to rise, I think about all the horses, the dogs, the animals here in Mississippi who are struggling to survive at the hands of their owners. Take Cho's fight for life, and now Eric's horse, whom he has named Popeye.
Nights must be long for these animals, the darkness and cold of the midnight hour lingering for what must be endless. Hunger a constant companion, so much so that they must think it is a normal state of being.
It makes the days difficult for those of us who must stumble through this journey helpless to save them all.
It is a difficult balance when you begin to take in other animals making up the eclectic mix that soon becomes a small farm. We began with E & E when we made the decision to keep them on our property, then when we purchased these 11 acres.
Our next step was bringing home Charlie Boy, Sandra, and Shirley. Around the first of the month, Sandra disappeared in the middle of the day. We are pretty sure a hawk or Eagle made off with her as there were no signs of a struggle such as lost feathers, nor did the chickens make any noise like they do when one of the dogs get too close.
That is when I went out and brought home Fred and Ethel, two young Silkies. They were gorgeous birds and were flourishing quite nicely. We had built a chicken coop about 30' long, five foot high and five foot wide. It wasn't quite what we wanted b/c the bottom did not fasten to anything, but it did the trick in case an overhead predator or a four-legged one tried to get to them.
It worked until Saturday.
That is when Cho, the puppy, aka known as Miss Celeste, discovered she could get in by going under the wire.
I knew something was wrong when I went to check on my birds and didn't see either one. Ethel soon came out of hiding, but I could see too many feathers lying about, a sign of a struggle. I also noticed two vultures circling. I started out toward the pasture to hunt for what I knew was probably a dead bird, but I never expected to find Cho with it.
I buried Fred, and I felt partially to blame. And I felt terrible for the way he died.
Now, I am a reasonable woman, but I am so sad my chicken died, especially such a violent death. I immediately realized as well that I had to find a partner for Ethel. Biddies were all that were available, but they require too much care. I stopped at my neighbors and he happened to have some Silkies that were a little older than biddies, but younger than Ethel. He gave me one.
So, now I have a new member of our little wanna-be farm.
