Monastery Honey Almond Creme (Honey)
2005-2011
Never going to be another as good and I'd trade every horse in the barn to have you back healthy and sound.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The Best Horse
Monastery Honey Almond Creme is one of our "good little Catholic horses". A friend of mine lives near the Texas Monastery that raises miniature horses and when I decided to move from large horses to small ones, she convinced me that I had to have one raised by nuns. After receiving photos of the horse I was interested in there, I sent my friend to check him out. While there, the Sister showed her this little mare who was the half sister of the horse I was interested in. She offered a real deal on both and I grabbed it. Honey and Suede were about 18 months old when I went to pick them up in 2006.
Suede has a mind of his own, but Honey and I became real pals immediately. She is patient, kind, calm, smart, playful, brave, willing and sweet natured. Lucy was a little older when we got the three horses, so she was the first horse we cart trained. A year later we began the groundwork with Honey. She loved every minute of her training and learned so rapidly that her mind was ready before we felt her body was mature enough to actually pull people. When she was three we hitched her up, climbed into the cart and drove like she'd been pulling folks around for ten years.
Since that time, we have trained and driven 4 of our horses, but Honey is the one I love most to drive. She's never spooky, responds to the slightest touch of my little fingers on the reins, and is always happy to go for a spin. She's the horse I hitch up when we have guests. I can put any total novice in the cart and let them take her up the road and around the vacant land next door without worry. When my husband was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma and we spent all our time and energy getting him through treatment, all I could do was go out and feed and sit with the horses for a little while each day. After over a year of not being driven, we hitched Honey up one day and went for a perfect drive. Every day I hug her neck and remind her she's the best horse.
Three weeks ago I raced out to feed the horses a little early because a news crew was coming out and I needed time to get myself ready for them. I fed Honey first, moved toward the next stall and realized she had not walked to her feed bin. She was standing with her butt against the stall panel nickering like a hungry horse, but not moving. I quickly finished feeding and went to her. She was totally unable to move. She could not bear weight on her left hind leg. I checked her hoof to be sure there was nothing wrong there. I checked for heat, swelling or cuts. She was terribly tender around her stifle and hip. I checked the stall to see if she'd gotten caught anywhere and there were no signs of any struggle, rolling or damage to the fencing. She was alert, hungry and talkative, she just could not move.
I had the vet out the next day and he could not pick the injured horse out when he walked through the barn. Honey was standing, alert and nickering for a treat when she heard me. The vet was surprised when I pointed her out as the patient. After running through the check list I had done the day before and manipulating her leg, the best he could do was make an educated guess that the injury was either in the stifle or the hip.
Now, I don't talk badly about Vets. My Aunt was a vet, my cousin is a vet and I've received excellent help and advice from all but one or two large animal vets in my life. But I have to say, that as far as the Phoenix Metro area equine vets go, they're really letting down miniature equine owners. The money is apparently in large horses simply due to the fact that there are so many more of them than their smaller cousins. We have fabulous vets, but they apparently do not have the small sized equipment necessary to ultrasound pregnant mini mares or do pelvic x-rays on minis.
I have read about, seen and have heard friends talk about having the vet "come out" to take x-rays of their horses or ultrasound their horses. Can I get that here?? Hell no. "Bring her in." Well, since she can't really WALK, and since we don't know what is wrong that might be made worse by travel, that's a little difficult. Miniature horse owners are at the bottom of the heap in the large animal medicine world.
Most equine vets have little or no experience with minis and some refuse to gain any experience with them. "I don't do miniatures sorry." was one local vets response when I brought home Lucy, Honey and Suede. Only ONE vet in our area even knew to look out for fatty liver in miniatures that go off their feed. The rest I've had to teach. I'm totally on my own here if a mare develops problems during labor because my only recourse would be to load her up and drive her 50 miles to the clinic that every vet sends all horses with reproductive issues. Now this. We have a world class equine orthopaedic surgeon about 30 miles away but he doesn't have the equipment that would be needed to diagnose miniatures.
I'm mad. I'm mad that vet schools do not teach enough about small equines. I'm mad that none of the veterinarians here take the time to learn about small equines on their own. I'm mad that our horses are not seen as equals to quarter horses and thoroughbreds. I'm mad that not even the long time established clinics have seen fit to buy the diagnostic tools necessary to help small equines. I'm mad that in this day and age of superb diagnostic technology that ANYONE has to load up a seriously injured horse, spend an hour on bad roads, to "bring them in" to a clinic rather than having a vet with a well fitted out van come out to the farm to at least assess whether or not surgery is needed or that it is safe to move the animal. I'm mad that my horse and countless others are paying the price.
I want to scream. I want to throw things. But all I can do is hope that she manages to recover enough to be happy and pain free with the treatment method known as a tincture of time. So, I take her treats. I hug her neck, breathe her scent and tell her "You know you're the best horse don't you? You are the best horse."
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A little about today's training session
(First, Lucy is still holding her own. About 3/4 bagged up now.)
I've been working on getting used to training the horses from my new off road wheelchair, and working on getting the horses used to being trained this way. It's been a learning experience for all of us, but we're doing really well with it.
Because Handsome is already used to my cues, it's been easier for me to work with him as I'm a little more free to figure out my own short comings. Today, I asked him to move in half circles around me, do some coming up and backing off, and asked him to circle me while I moved the chair about the playpen. He has done half circles, he's done circles, he's done coming in and backing off, but he's never been asked to circle me as I move around because I've never been able to move around with him. He had to figure that out, but he did very well. I even had him walking in front of me in a driving exercise to get us both accustomed to teaching ground driving from the tank chair.
Here are some photos from today:
I've been working on getting used to training the horses from my new off road wheelchair, and working on getting the horses used to being trained this way. It's been a learning experience for all of us, but we're doing really well with it.
Because Handsome is already used to my cues, it's been easier for me to work with him as I'm a little more free to figure out my own short comings. Today, I asked him to move in half circles around me, do some coming up and backing off, and asked him to circle me while I moved the chair about the playpen. He has done half circles, he's done circles, he's done coming in and backing off, but he's never been asked to circle me as I move around because I've never been able to move around with him. He had to figure that out, but he did very well. I even had him walking in front of me in a driving exercise to get us both accustomed to teaching ground driving from the tank chair.
Here are some photos from today:
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Mare Watch
Yup, I'm up. It's late. Lucy is fine. She just had a nice nap and is up scrounging for molecules of hay leftover from dinner. Her udder is about 50% full now. She is lying down more often, the muscles around her tail head are beginning to relax and soon she'll have flat flabby old lady butt... much like me. She's pretty much build like a lollypop, round belly atop legs which look like sticks. Her body condition (remember the body condition chart in a previous post?) is excellent. All in all she's doing really well, she's just obviously tired of being pregnant, and, I confess, I'm a little weary of watching her be pregnant.
She's alternately grouchy and overly friendly, pushy then distant, spooky then so calm she'll stand in one spot for an hour or two just dozing. If I walk her to a different turnout she prances, nickers and hoots at the other mares as if she were a randy stallion. Let a randy stallion so much as walk to an adjoining fence and she becomes Godzilla mare.
I have read that all of these behaviors are normal. I have stared at the mothers of 6 babies and they've all behaved differently. This is the third Lucy pregnancy on the farm and she is behaving differently this time than the other two. Therefore, it is apparent that one can never count on mares to behave in any certain manner in late pregnancy.
What we can count on are body changes. When a mare begins showing her pregnancy her belly will appear somewhat lopsided when viewed from behind. A few weeks to a month prior to giving birth this lopsided look will change and from behind, her belly will take on the general shape of a bell or pear. As the muscles across her hips and rump prepare for impending birth, they will relax so that the baby is able to pass through the birth canal more easily. Even the feet of the late term mare may change as the calcium from her food goes more to the baby and not as much to her hooves. Her feet may widen and spread a bit. She will waddle. If you're a mother or have seen women in the final stage of pregnancy, these signs should sound familiar!
Remember trying to sit in a low chair at 8 1/2 months pregnant? Lucy gets almost down and then basically does a controlled fall the last 8 inches or so. Remember the struggle to get up out of that low chair? Lucy has the same issues getting up. If she made the mistake of laying down next to the ocean, ten people would show up and attempt to roll her back into the water.
I suppose I have the easy part. All I have to do is stay awake and watch her on the wireless barn cam. Really, that's quite enough for me.
She's alternately grouchy and overly friendly, pushy then distant, spooky then so calm she'll stand in one spot for an hour or two just dozing. If I walk her to a different turnout she prances, nickers and hoots at the other mares as if she were a randy stallion. Let a randy stallion so much as walk to an adjoining fence and she becomes Godzilla mare.
I have read that all of these behaviors are normal. I have stared at the mothers of 6 babies and they've all behaved differently. This is the third Lucy pregnancy on the farm and she is behaving differently this time than the other two. Therefore, it is apparent that one can never count on mares to behave in any certain manner in late pregnancy.
What we can count on are body changes. When a mare begins showing her pregnancy her belly will appear somewhat lopsided when viewed from behind. A few weeks to a month prior to giving birth this lopsided look will change and from behind, her belly will take on the general shape of a bell or pear. As the muscles across her hips and rump prepare for impending birth, they will relax so that the baby is able to pass through the birth canal more easily. Even the feet of the late term mare may change as the calcium from her food goes more to the baby and not as much to her hooves. Her feet may widen and spread a bit. She will waddle. If you're a mother or have seen women in the final stage of pregnancy, these signs should sound familiar!
Remember trying to sit in a low chair at 8 1/2 months pregnant? Lucy gets almost down and then basically does a controlled fall the last 8 inches or so. Remember the struggle to get up out of that low chair? Lucy has the same issues getting up. If she made the mistake of laying down next to the ocean, ten people would show up and attempt to roll her back into the water.
I suppose I have the easy part. All I have to do is stay awake and watch her on the wireless barn cam. Really, that's quite enough for me.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
We're coming down to the wire on Lucy's pregnancy, at least SHE seems to have decided we're coming down to the wire. Lucy has produced 3 healthy foals with no foaling issues out of 3 pregnancies. Two of her foals were born here on the farm and were totally uneventful, well other than mild panic on my part.
Mares can show many signs of impending labor. They often go off their feed, they may press their butts against the fence railing so hard that you think they're going to push it down, they may roll, they may rake their sides against the fencing, they may switch their tails constantly, they may sweat, kick or bite at their bellies. Or, they may do none of the above.
Lucy's first foal, Desi, was the result of a breeding in Texas before we bought her. She'd been with the stallion most of the spring and, therefore, we did not know when she was "due". We watched her closely for 3 months, checking for the usual physiological changes. A. Belly size and shape changes, B. udder development. Once her belly drooped and her udder began to develop we watched her 24 hours a day. My son and I watched in shifts. He took the night shift and would watch from about 11pm to 6 am. Then he'd wake me up and I would stare at the mare for the remainder of the day until he got home from work and took the night shift.
I have read that 80 percent of all mares foal between 10 pm and 6 am. I vividly recall the morning that we discovered Lucy was in the 20 percent of all mares who deliver in broad daylight. John had awakened me at about 6 am. I'd stumbled to the coffee pot, got my cup and went to my observation post by the back door to stare at the mare who was staring expectantly back at me. She knew we were there, even if she couldn't see us well through the glare on the glass door. She was not behaving abnormally at all, she just wanted her breakfast and she was sending me "I'm HUNGRY" vibes.
More or less awake, I went out to feed the horses, checked Lucy's udder, it was very warm and very full, just as it had been the night before. I came inside, got my husband off to work, glancing out each window I passed to check the horse. She was, as usual, vacuuming up hay like some kind of hooved, hairy shop vac.
Because it was April, all of our minis were raking themselves on their fencing trying to scrape off their itchy winter coats. As I sat at the back door, watching Lucy and the others, they were all finished breakfast and were now itching their bodies against their fencing. After about an hour, my forehead pressed against the glass of the door, my eyes glazing over, Lucy's tail suddenly shot straight up over her back and she laid down. I sat bolt upright. She half rolled once, got up, her tail wringing in a wild circle and she laid down again. I pounded on my son's door "NOW OUTSIDE LUCY!" I yelled as I wheeled to the garage door and down the path to the barn, my brain churning with all the horrible possibilities like breach birth, sitting dog position birth, knotted umbilical cord, torn uterine artery, red bag birth, and only 100 or so other things that could go wrong. I was fighting panic. Was I up to this?!
It took less than 60 seconds to get from my watch post to her stall. In that brief length of time she laid down the 3rd time and I arrived as her water broke. Desi was born within 3 minutes. Lucy had flopped to the ground without caring where the birth would take place. She had not chosen the center of her large 12 x 12 stall, oh no, she'd chosen to lie down and give birth a mere 2 feet from the corner. As Desi was being born I was constantly having to reposition him to keep him from being jammed into the corner. But there he was, bright eyed, curious from his first breath, blond like his momma and a total heart stealer. Lucy, got up and immediately went back to policing up hay molecules left over from breakfast, nickering lovingly and nuzzling her baby from time to time as he learned to stand and nurse. Just another great morning for her, but a few more grey hairs for me.
Lucy has begun to bag up. This concerns me as she is not due for 3 more weeks. She is also larger this time around, which concerns me also. Add these two concerns to my terror of the many birth problems that can occur in miniature horses and you have a prescription for a serious hair dye addiction. Loreal loves me every foaling season.
Mares can show many signs of impending labor. They often go off their feed, they may press their butts against the fence railing so hard that you think they're going to push it down, they may roll, they may rake their sides against the fencing, they may switch their tails constantly, they may sweat, kick or bite at their bellies. Or, they may do none of the above.
Lucy's first foal, Desi, was the result of a breeding in Texas before we bought her. She'd been with the stallion most of the spring and, therefore, we did not know when she was "due". We watched her closely for 3 months, checking for the usual physiological changes. A. Belly size and shape changes, B. udder development. Once her belly drooped and her udder began to develop we watched her 24 hours a day. My son and I watched in shifts. He took the night shift and would watch from about 11pm to 6 am. Then he'd wake me up and I would stare at the mare for the remainder of the day until he got home from work and took the night shift.
I have read that 80 percent of all mares foal between 10 pm and 6 am. I vividly recall the morning that we discovered Lucy was in the 20 percent of all mares who deliver in broad daylight. John had awakened me at about 6 am. I'd stumbled to the coffee pot, got my cup and went to my observation post by the back door to stare at the mare who was staring expectantly back at me. She knew we were there, even if she couldn't see us well through the glare on the glass door. She was not behaving abnormally at all, she just wanted her breakfast and she was sending me "I'm HUNGRY" vibes.
More or less awake, I went out to feed the horses, checked Lucy's udder, it was very warm and very full, just as it had been the night before. I came inside, got my husband off to work, glancing out each window I passed to check the horse. She was, as usual, vacuuming up hay like some kind of hooved, hairy shop vac.
Because it was April, all of our minis were raking themselves on their fencing trying to scrape off their itchy winter coats. As I sat at the back door, watching Lucy and the others, they were all finished breakfast and were now itching their bodies against their fencing. After about an hour, my forehead pressed against the glass of the door, my eyes glazing over, Lucy's tail suddenly shot straight up over her back and she laid down. I sat bolt upright. She half rolled once, got up, her tail wringing in a wild circle and she laid down again. I pounded on my son's door "NOW OUTSIDE LUCY!" I yelled as I wheeled to the garage door and down the path to the barn, my brain churning with all the horrible possibilities like breach birth, sitting dog position birth, knotted umbilical cord, torn uterine artery, red bag birth, and only 100 or so other things that could go wrong. I was fighting panic. Was I up to this?!
It took less than 60 seconds to get from my watch post to her stall. In that brief length of time she laid down the 3rd time and I arrived as her water broke. Desi was born within 3 minutes. Lucy had flopped to the ground without caring where the birth would take place. She had not chosen the center of her large 12 x 12 stall, oh no, she'd chosen to lie down and give birth a mere 2 feet from the corner. As Desi was being born I was constantly having to reposition him to keep him from being jammed into the corner. But there he was, bright eyed, curious from his first breath, blond like his momma and a total heart stealer. Lucy, got up and immediately went back to policing up hay molecules left over from breakfast, nickering lovingly and nuzzling her baby from time to time as he learned to stand and nurse. Just another great morning for her, but a few more grey hairs for me.
Lucy has begun to bag up. This concerns me as she is not due for 3 more weeks. She is also larger this time around, which concerns me also. Add these two concerns to my terror of the many birth problems that can occur in miniature horses and you have a prescription for a serious hair dye addiction. Loreal loves me every foaling season.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Desensitizing to something scary
A few days ago, the maker of an off-road wheelchair came out to the farm to let me try out what is likely the most powerful all terrain wheelchair on the market. I generally have to sit in one spot and teach my horses from that one spot, or I hobble painfully around them for a few steps or try to manage a bit of training without tangling lead ropes in my crutches. This can only get us so far in our partnership. Their brains need more stimulation and so does mine.
The chair is HUGE. It's got these large tank-like tracks on either side which allows it to travel easily across the softest deepest sand, finest river silt, and loosest gravel. It goes through mud, water and up 45 degree slopes without blinking a battery light. Did I mention it's HUGE? The treads on the tracks are meant to dig in and crawl over rough terrain, on paved surfaces however, there's nothing to dig into so the treads thwap and rattle against hard surfaces. And, it's HUGE.
When we find something that our horses are uneasy about, we work with them to help them overcome their fears. We don't avoid things that might be frightening to them unless we just simply don't have the time it takes to deal with the situation fully. We'll make a note to work on it and come back to that as soon as possible. As a result, I have a barn full of horses that really don't spook and bolt at much.
When I drove the Tank Chair (yup, that's what it's called), into the barn aisle that morning, most of the horses glanced up then went back to eating. A couple came over to their gates to check it out, but two of them totally freaked and wanted to climb out the back side of their stalls. Those two felt cornered by this evil sounding, obvious horse eating monster. They had no escape. They were trapped in their stalls and terrified.
A horse must be able to feel like it has the choice to leave and get away from something that makes it uneasy before you can begin to get it's brain in gear. Thus, the first thing I did, was take the Tank Chair out into the largest paddock and unlocked the first panic stricken horse's stall. He was so frightened of being stuck in the stall with that "monster" loose in the paddock that he raced out of the stall right in front of me and ran to the farthest fence line. As soon as he knew he had the option of escape he was able to gather the scattered chickens in his head and became more open to learning.
I drove the chair around in a few circles as far away from him as possible, then drove it toward him. When he moved away I'd move along with him while his butt was turned toward me, if he turned to face me, even if he was just trying to change directions in order to shake me off, I'd move away from him a bit. Within less than 2 minutes he would follow me for a few seconds before he chickened out. If he stopped moving, I'd stop moving.
In less than 3 minutes he understood that the monster stopped when he did, so it might not be so bad. Plus "Granny is riding the thing!" With a slightly worried expression, he approached me and I rubbed his forehead and then moved away from him. He followed for a few steps and we began "the dance" again, until he followed me for 5 or 6 steps, I stopped and he came right up to me for his head rub. I drove away again, he walked calmly over to the stalls and stood. This time, I approached him and he stood still and relaxed even as the monster approached. I was able to pull right up to him, stop and rub his head. His worried expression was gone and he was totally relaxed.
Training session time was under 4 minutes and we progressed from absolute panic and trying to climb stall walls, to completely relaxed and accepting of the scary object. See YouTube video of the session below:
The chair is HUGE. It's got these large tank-like tracks on either side which allows it to travel easily across the softest deepest sand, finest river silt, and loosest gravel. It goes through mud, water and up 45 degree slopes without blinking a battery light. Did I mention it's HUGE? The treads on the tracks are meant to dig in and crawl over rough terrain, on paved surfaces however, there's nothing to dig into so the treads thwap and rattle against hard surfaces. And, it's HUGE.
When we find something that our horses are uneasy about, we work with them to help them overcome their fears. We don't avoid things that might be frightening to them unless we just simply don't have the time it takes to deal with the situation fully. We'll make a note to work on it and come back to that as soon as possible. As a result, I have a barn full of horses that really don't spook and bolt at much.
When I drove the Tank Chair (yup, that's what it's called), into the barn aisle that morning, most of the horses glanced up then went back to eating. A couple came over to their gates to check it out, but two of them totally freaked and wanted to climb out the back side of their stalls. Those two felt cornered by this evil sounding, obvious horse eating monster. They had no escape. They were trapped in their stalls and terrified.
A horse must be able to feel like it has the choice to leave and get away from something that makes it uneasy before you can begin to get it's brain in gear. Thus, the first thing I did, was take the Tank Chair out into the largest paddock and unlocked the first panic stricken horse's stall. He was so frightened of being stuck in the stall with that "monster" loose in the paddock that he raced out of the stall right in front of me and ran to the farthest fence line. As soon as he knew he had the option of escape he was able to gather the scattered chickens in his head and became more open to learning.
I drove the chair around in a few circles as far away from him as possible, then drove it toward him. When he moved away I'd move along with him while his butt was turned toward me, if he turned to face me, even if he was just trying to change directions in order to shake me off, I'd move away from him a bit. Within less than 2 minutes he would follow me for a few seconds before he chickened out. If he stopped moving, I'd stop moving.
In less than 3 minutes he understood that the monster stopped when he did, so it might not be so bad. Plus "Granny is riding the thing!" With a slightly worried expression, he approached me and I rubbed his forehead and then moved away from him. He followed for a few steps and we began "the dance" again, until he followed me for 5 or 6 steps, I stopped and he came right up to me for his head rub. I drove away again, he walked calmly over to the stalls and stood. This time, I approached him and he stood still and relaxed even as the monster approached. I was able to pull right up to him, stop and rub his head. His worried expression was gone and he was totally relaxed.
Training session time was under 4 minutes and we progressed from absolute panic and trying to climb stall walls, to completely relaxed and accepting of the scary object. See YouTube video of the session below:
Monday, January 17, 2011
We're going to have a baby!
Lucy, my palomino mare and Handsome, my smoky black stallion are going to be proud parents sometime around the middle of March. Last April, in a burst of hopefulness at the seeming success of my husband's tandem bone marrow transplant treatments for his Hodgkin Lymphoma, I put the two horses together for two days when Lucy was in standing heat. After two days I started second guessing that decision and separated them. In that two days, however, Lucy the miracle mare who seems to get pregnant if she's downwind of a stallion, conceived. I love that mare.
Lucy was the first mini to come to our property. We bought her here in Arizona. She, Suede and Honey were actually all bought at the same time, but the purchase of Suede and Honey was actually agreed to by my friend in Texas while I was on the phone with her. At that same time, I was here on a mini-farm in Arizona buying Lucy. Lucy came onto our property like she owned it and she has been the boss mare ever since. She's the first horse we cart trained and bless her she forgave us our mistakes and did her darnedest to figure out what we wanted and give it to us. She's gentle around people, very affectionate, a wonderful momma and she's one of my most special friends in the barn.
Lucy was pregnant when we bought her. Her son, Desi, is a permanent buddy here too. When it was time to wean Desi we knew it would be easier for him if he had a weanling companion. I contacted Lucy's original owner and she said she had a fabulous colt she was about to wean. She said he was the best looking colt she'd bred and she had even named him Strykingly Handsome. She needed to sell him but the bottom had fallen out of the mini-sales industry about that time and none of the show homes were buying like they used to. She gave me a superior deal on a superior colt just so he would have a good home. He sure was a good looking colt, but even then we had no idea how beautiful he would be when grown. We've had to take him to vet clinics for various minor issues and when we do the vets never fail to gasp and tell me "now THAT is what miniatures should look like" and "He is really outstanding" and "WOW he's Handsome, what's his name?"
Handsome is not only conformationally perfect, he is also very smart with a true desire to learn. Even though he's an unapologetic nipper he's one of the easiest horses to work with in our barn. When we are working with him all we have to do is give him a minute or two to think about what we might be asking him and he figures it out. We've been working with some professional large horse trainers and they're pure stoked about this little stallion. He will go all day long for you. They tell me he's got more heart in that little body than many horses they see. It makes me very happy when other people, who know more than I do, gain that understanding of our evil little black stud.
So, this baby we're expecting is extremely special. His parents conformation is perfect, they are highly intelligent, and they have not just a willingness, but a deep desire to do what we ask of them. Finally on the list of reasons I am excited about this pairing is color. Palominos, buckskins, and smoky blacks don't just happen at random. They happen because of the genetics of horse color.
Very simplistic equine color genetics lesson:
Horses, to be very basic here, come in two colors, red and black. All other colors you see, are caused by genes which modify those two base colors and may dilute, change the pattern of, or even wash out those two colors. A good friend of mine explains it this way. Picture one of those old flip charts of clear plastic pages with images on them. Picture a red horse on the bottom plastic page. The next page is the Creme gene. When you overlay the creme gene on your red horse you suddenly find yourself looking at a palomino. The creme gene only dilutes (lightens) red pigment. Lucy, therefore, is a red horse who inherited one creme gene. The combination of the red and creme genes made her palomino.
The creme dilution gene doesn't just happen. It must be inherited. One of the parents must carry at least one creme dilute gene and the foal must inherit at least one of those from one of the parents. Both parents who carry a creme dilute gene can pass on that gene to a foal. If a foal inherits a creme gene from each parent, that foal is known as a double dilute. It is in this case that with a double whammy the creme finally can wash out even black coat color. Double dilute horses appear white or near white, perhaps with a slightly buttery color in their manes and tails, but with beautiful blue eyes. Now, don't go running around saying every white horse with blue eyes must be a double dilute. Pintos can have blue eyes too and the coat color can be solid white or grey which has washed out the coat colors to white. You can, however, say with authority that a double creme dilute horse will always have blue eyes. (You can also tell anyone who thinks that color is "albino" that no one has discovered the albino gene in equines.) A double creme dilute has no choice but to pass on one of those creme genes.
Because the creme dilution gene only effects red, if a black foal inherits a creme gene it will not show on the outside, but he will be able to pass that gene on to his offspring. A black horse that carries a creme gene is called a smoky black. Even though the creme gene is invisible when you look at Handsome, it's there because his mother was a double dilute and she had no choice but to send one of her creme genes to Handsome.
Since both Lucy and Handsome carry the creme dilution we are really hoping for a creme dilute baby. Here is a link to an equine genetics test lab color calculator that I use: Equine Coat Color Calculator When I plug in the color information I know about Lucy and Handsome I get these percentages (Cremello, Perlino, and Smoky Cream are the double dilutes):
Offspring Color Probability
25.00% - Palomino
12.50% - Smoky Black
12.50% - Cremello
12.50% - Chestnut
12.50% - Buckskin
6.25% - Smoky Cream
6.25% - Perlino
6.25% - Black
6.25% - Bay
75% chance of dilute
25% chance of double dilute
18.75% chance of black or black appearance
If the above calculations are correct, there should be only a 12.50% chance of getting a chestnut baby, and only a 6.25% chance of a bay baby. With all those other color options can we please all keep our fingers crossed for anything other than chestnut or bay??
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
A day in the life...
This was a fun post from a couple of years ago from my old blog. I did this to show my dad in Louisiana our farm. Hope you enjoy!
William and John handle the heavy chores around here, lifting those bales, toting that poop and such. (Imagine Green Acres theme playing in the background)
John also handles the WHW (Wittmann Horse Wrestling) duties whenever anyone gets out of line.
While the horses eat we check the garden for ripe veggies so the rabbits and squirrels don't make off with them first. The rabbits have finally gotten desperate enough to eat zucchini. Looks like we've been raided over night AGAIN.
Good grooming practices are part of the daily routine. Well, at least for the 4 legged residents. People wouldn't recognize me without hay in my hair.
William tries to explain the concept of rabbit hunting to Elmo and Anniedawg. They just want their bisquits and bacon thanks.
On weekends we love to watch the televised PBR (Professional Bull Riders) events after the evening chores.
Here at the miniature horse farm we rise at around 5:30-6:00 each morning, creak our way slowly out of bed and stumble toward the coffee maker. We wake up via caffeine I.V. while checking email and reading news on line, then we head for the medicine cabinet and hit the dated, categorized, carefully compartmentalized pill boxes that we're told keep us living. Then we dress and sit dumbly on the edge of the bed, as if our boats fetched up in mud, while our engines try, re-try and try again to turn over. Mostly what we get is that "tick, tick, tick" sound of a bad battery. Eventually, however, we sputter to a start and mosey out to the barn to feed the horses around 7-ish.
Sometimes it's good to be short.
Then we feed horses. Horses who today are standing out there, tapping their toes, and not at all happy that breakfast is late. Rowena is determined to chase William down for her bowl because as you can see the poor baby is emaciated. Handsome is turning himself into a giraffe trying to inhale his feed straight out of the scoop before I can dump it in his feeder.
William and John handle the heavy chores around here, lifting those bales, toting that poop and such. (Imagine Green Acres theme playing in the background)
John also handles the WHW (Wittmann Horse Wrestling) duties whenever anyone gets out of line.
While the horses eat we check the garden for ripe veggies so the rabbits and squirrels don't make off with them first. The rabbits have finally gotten desperate enough to eat zucchini. Looks like we've been raided over night AGAIN.
Gol-durn rabbits! We'll show 'em!!
Then it's time to ride out to check the fence lines.
Good grooming practices are part of the daily routine. Well, at least for the 4 legged residents. People wouldn't recognize me without hay in my hair.
William tries to explain the concept of rabbit hunting to Elmo and Anniedawg. They just want their bisquits and bacon thanks.
On weekends we love to watch the televised PBR (Professional Bull Riders) events after the evening chores.
And that's pretty much our day, minus the tractor work, house work, nap, and writing!
DISCLAIMER: No herbivores were harmed during the making of this blog post.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Safety
Weena the Queena
Equine Product Safety Engineer
This will be one of many posts regarding safety around the barnyard. More will be added as the horses figure out other ways to get themselves into trouble and as I remember past times they've gotten themselves into trouble. I'll generally need to post these in the daylight hours as too close to bedtime and I'm liable to have nightmares or lay awake wondering "What was that noise?! What did they do now???"
We started with one barn, added a second barn about 20 or so feet from the first, and have now enclosed that space between them and added two covered stalls and a covered hay area. As the space between the two barns did not accommodate our 12 foot gate panels, we improvised with chain link gates. This worked very nicely until we put a horse in them. I closed little Rowena in one, closed her gate, put a horse in the new stall next to her and before I got that gate closed the sounds of panic came from Rowena's stall. I looked, my heart stopped, my stomach lurched and my body levitated the 20 feet necessary to rescue Rowena who had managed to trap the back of her neck between the gate and the post.
The bottom of the chain link gate is curved. We'd hung it about 10 inches above the ground so it swings easily. Little Weena, in her never ending search for stray bits of hay had stuck her head out the bottom of the gate to try and reach some edible tidbit or other and when she pulled her head back, the slim part of her neck, right where it joins her head, went up into the slot created by the curved bottom of the gate. She was so panic stricken that it's a major miracle she didn't separate her head from her body or snap her neck.
We've since kept larger horses in that stall, but they too have slender necks that could fit into that slot. We'd also never noticed that several of our regular gate panels have that curved bottom. We've tied rope, chain, no-climb and bungee barriers across the curved neck catching gates, but every day I go out there I'm scared I'm going to find a horse that has managed to get past our flimsy precautions and killed itself. We're going to have to weld a bar from the bottom of those gates and across the open space the curves create in order to truly fix the problem.
Below are photos of the safe straight gates and the unsafe curved gates.
SAFE gate
(notice there is little space between gate and post)
Unsafe Gate
(note the wide space created by curve)
Friday, May 21, 2010
Time to do something affirmative
Godric at 5 months old
Many breeders simply accept the fact that they're going to have to fight some of their horses to trim their feet or give shots. They feed their animals, take good care of them, try to better the breed through choosing the best stallions and mares, and hope for fabulous foals. But with their large herds they don't often give them personal attention. Their stock run in large pastures with little human interaction except at feeding time, for vaccination and the occasional hoof trim. People who own minis just as pasture pets, often bought those minis on a whim because they were cute babies and then lost interest because they didn't know how to teach those cute babies to behave themselves and they grew into fairly unpleasant adults. They feed twice a day and if the horses are lucky see the vet when needed and get trims. Their bad behavior becomes the Vet or Farrier's problem. Thus, minis have gained a nasty reputation for bad behavior.
I have always worked with my babies from the moment they're born. They grow up knowing how to lift their feet when asked. When they're tiny tots and have their very first baby hoof trim, they're not great, but give us 8 weeks to work on it and they're really pretty good about hoof trims. However, all training at our barn ceased when cancer crawled onto the property. I haven't had the time and when I've had the time I haven't had the energy. I'm going to have to find the energy because I'll be darned if A. my farrier and Vet have a harder time than they already do just because I haven't done my job, and B. I need to sell that pony and his ill behaved sister to help with medical costs and they'll have a better chance at a good life if I can get their behavioral issues under control.
We have a lot to overcome with both Godric and Poppy, so I'll put up periodic posts about their issues and the progress of their training. They were both good kids before the diagnosis, all we have to do is get them to remember those early lessons and build on them.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
"Fatty Liver"/Hepatic Lipidosis/Hyperlipemia
Miniature horses, ponies and donkeys are highly susceptible to Hepatic Lipidosis/Hyperlipemia and in layman's terms "Fatty Liver". The condition is NOT rare in small equines and, in fact, occurs much more often in miniatures than in large horses. The problem is, that Vets tend to treat minis just like large horses and, as a result, this condition often goes undiagnosed and it is assumed that the primary illness is what caused the animal's death. Large animal vets just don't generally have enough miniature horse patients to know how often this condition arises, unless they live in an area with several large miniature breeding and training farms. Thus, the reporting of this condition in miniature horses is low.
Miniature horses can NOT handle going off their feed for a day or two. They can begin to break down their fat reserves in less than 12 hours. The fat cells entering their blood stream can damage their liver and in worst cases can kill a miniature within 6 to 10 days. In the past 4 years I have had this condition threaten 3 of my minis. We'd have lost all 3 if this had gone undiagnosed. And let me tell you that twice I had to put up a real fight to have the proper blood tests done to check for increased lipids and decreased glucose levels. Both times the vets came back with "You were right. It's good you knew and were insistent about that."
Our first experience involved our first baby, Desi. He was only 6 months old when he developed a mild case of flu. He didn't feel like eating. I sat in his stall with him, tempting him with feed from my hand. He nibbled a bit but didn't really eat. His aches and fever from the flu had subsided within 24 hours but the anorexia remained. I knew I'd read something about this being a bad problem for minis and I called my vet. He gave me the typical large horse advice, "give him a little time. If he's not running a fever and he's drinking, give him a day or two. If you want you can give him a little B-12 and some molasses to see if that perks him up." Minis don't have a day or two to wait on this. However, the molasses and B-12 were good advice. When a mini goes off feed, there are three things you need to do. A. Make a mush of his feed and syringe feed him. Otherwise, his body will begin breaking down his fat reserves for the energy he needs. I keep my horses used to eating a little bit of a Complete Feed, just for this purpose. I know that if nothing else works to get them eating (and I'm sure colic is not the issue), I can soak a complete feed and syringe feed them. B. Keep his glucose levels up. When a mini goes off feed their glucose levels begin to drop, compounding their issues. C. If he's not getting enough food via syringe feeding, get him to a Vet and make that vet pay attention to you. Do not leave that horse at that vet until blood is drawn to check Lipid and Glucose levels. Don't be an ass about it, just be firm. Once in a blue moon we do actually know more than our Vets and if your vet is telling you this is not necessary after your mini hasn't eaten for 24 hours, this is one of those times.
I listened to my Vet for 3 days before my son and I loaded little Desi into the back of a U-Haul van (shhhh don't tell U-Haul!) and hauled him to Chaparral Animal Hospital. When we got there Dr. Elaine Carpenter listened to our concerns, knew all about "Fatty Liver" and immediately checked Desi's lipid, cholesterol and glucose levels. His lipid levels were high and had we waited another day Desi would have had little chance of survival. His glucose levels were slightly lowered and we were told the molasses had helped keep those up and might well have saved him. He was immediately started on enteral feedings and Heparin. He was still alert, friendly and curious and, other than being a little weak, didn't look obviously ill, but the devils were loose in his blood stream. All we could do was wait, worry and hope for the best. Thankfully, he began to improve after about two days at the vet and by day 6 was able to come home where we continued with the supportive feedings.
While we were checking out of the clinic, a lady came in who had just lost 6 of her beloved minis to this condition compounded by their primary diagnisis of salmonella. It wasn't the salmonella that had killed them, although it might have ended up doing that, it was the Hepatic Lipidosis that had caused their deaths. There is always a primary illness that precedes the secondary condition of Hepatic Lipidosis. The severity of that primary illness has as much to do with the horse being able to survive the fatty liver issue as does rapid response and treatment. Please do not get your hopes up. Even when you're quick, with home treatment and get them to a Vet who understands and treats for this condition, if the condition is secondary to a serious illness you can lose the horse.
We could have lost our fabulous smoky black stallion, Handsome, because a Vet at Chaparral wasn't listening to me. He'd become ill one evening, he walked away from his feed. I sat up with him all that night and got him to the vet first thing in the morning because I wasn't sure he didn't have a mild colic and, thus, did not want to syringe feed him. I didn't know this particular Vet at Chaparral, and I asked her if she'd check his lipids. She balked. I was exhausted from no sleep, but I wasn't gonna budge. I told her what we'd learned from Dr. Carpenter, but she didn't seem like she wanted to listen to me. I insisted. She drew blood and I went home. I called that afternoon to check on him, and found that the blood tests she ordered were not, in fact, checking his lipid, cholesterol and glucose levels. I told them I'd hold until I could talk to her. I insisted again. I asked her to please call Dr. Carpenter. Finally she did talk to Dr. Carpenter, did run the correct tests and the next day, by golly imagine this, she found that his lipids had begun to rise. She hadn't treated enough minis yet to know how fast the condition can affect them.
Our little mare Blondie was stricken by a systemic infection from the simple tiny puncture wound from her spring vaccinations last year. She went off her feed and would spit out her feed mush when I'd syringe it into her cheek. She was stumbling blindly within 6 hours. We rushed her to Durango explained the situation, and after some debate they checked her levels, they'd already begun to rise in that short a time! She responded to antibiotics for the infection within a few hours and had started eating and drinking so no further measures were needed thank goodness.
If your mini is overweight he has more fat cells to go into his bloodstream so this is yet another extremely important reason to keep your miniatures at a healthy body condition.
I cannot stress enough the importance of knowing about the effects of anorexia on miniature horses. Mild colds, flu, stress, soreness, disease, a bad tooth, and an infinite number of other things can cause your mini to decide he doesn't feel like eating and, therefore, Hepatic Lipidosis/Hyperlipemia should be high on your list of concerns.
Here are some articles that explain the condition, if not always accurate on the effects on miniature horses:
The Sibyls Incarnate
They also know where the barn camera is aimed. We adjusted the cam so that it would view the area where two pregnant mares had habitually lain for the three weeks. The instant the camera was bolted in place they stopped laying in those spots. One chose her new bed in the one small area of her stall that the camera could not see. The other began snoozing in the shadows as close to the edge of camera range as possible. She, thankfully, has a very light mane and tail so I could see each end when watching the camera at night, I just couldn't tell which end was which.
If I am wide awake and staring at them, they will relax and nap. If I decide that they're resting comfortably and that I myself could rest comfortably for a few minutes, they will get up and begin raking their sides along the stall walls. If they wish an earlier than normal breakfast, all they have to do is lie down and have a good roll, look at their sides, then stretch out on the ground with their legs stiff. I race out the door, quietly approach their stalls and when they are certain that all the other horses know I'm there, they get up and waddle to their feeders looking very smug.
My books on raising horses all say that mares at this stage of pregnancy should have their whims catered to. I do. They know I will. They enjoy that knowledge.
Of Mice and Horse Owners
I love furry and feathered creatures. Thus, when we had to move our flooded out haystack and found 12 tiny baby cottontails, I was more than willing to drive halfway across Phoenix (quite literally) to meet a lady who rehabilitates cottontails, jackrabbits and squirrels. As I kneeled in the still damp earth, smelling the misfortune of those babies that had not survived the flood, I thought of all the times I'd cursed their parents for eating whatever I plant. With my shirt hem folded up like a kangaroo pouch I transported the squealing bunnies to a bird cage, loaded them in the car and spent what was going to be a pleasant Sunday evening on the farm, driving through city traffic.
I love people who love creatures, which is one of the many reasons I hold my neighbors in such high esteem. Most of the people on our street have horses. My nearest neighbors raise adorable dogs and everyone here owns an assortment of dogs, cats and horses.
One of our neighbors today informed me that he'd been having to buy hay, because he couldn't use what he had left just yet. Seems a quail had decided to build a nest on the top bail and until her babies were old enough to leave, he didn't want to disturb that section of the stack.
I love creatures. They rule my roost. I draw the line at creatures with more than four legs and creatures that can harm my family or the animals in our care. I draw that line with a heavy heart, but it's drawn in stone. Rattlers present a terrible threat so we dispatched 12 or more each year in the yard, some in the barn and around the haystack and dog kennels. I don't like killing them. It's not a point of pride and I sure don't feel like the "mighty hunter", they're simply too dangerous. Last year we put up a snake fence to attempt to deter the reptiles. It must be working fairly well. We have not found nearly as many in the barn and paddocks and I discovered other evidence.
I had lived with a mouse in my tack and feed shed for about seven months. One mouse was cute. He'd peer out at me from behind buckets, blinking his bright little eyes, waiting for me to leave his home. One mouse was cute. It was when he began to invite his friends that I started to have a problem.
At first it was still a small problem. I had two or three mice in the tack shed who ate the spilled feed. Then they decided they should stock up for the winter. They gnawed a hole in one of the bags and began carrying cheekfuls of Omolene to their larder in the corner. I didn't notice this until their stockpile had grown large enough (about a foot high and about a foot and a half long) to be seen behind all the stacked bags. After cleaning that mess up, I actually spent some time wondering if I should take action against them at this point. It wasn't until I raised a scoop full of feed at o'dark thirty one morning and felt tiny bare feet scrambling, panic stricken, over my arm that I decided to actually do something about the issue. I bought several large cans to put the feed bags in. Yes, friends. THAT was the sum total of my answer to the problem. I hoped that by depriving them of food, they'd just leave. I hoped in vain.
Depriving the mice of food in the shed only sent them foraging in the barn. The barn is a big place. They thrived. I'd go out at night and see one scurry under a tarp. As the nights passed, I'd see one scurry under the tarp, one hopping like mad across a stall looking for cover and even sat and watched as a couple of mice children (yes, part of my problem is that I think like that), making their first timid forays into the larger world from the safety of their hole under a stall mat. Still, at this point, I merely wondered if there were some larger action I should take. There was, but I didn't want to think about it.
It wasn't until I was researching Salmonella and it's dangers to horses that I found out that mice and birds are the culprits in most outbreaks. It was while I was weighing the options (live traps vs miserable death vs quick death) that I developed an inkling of the depth of my mouse problem.
I went to the barn and there was a mouse in the middle of the floor, scavenging through some fallen hay. He didn't seem bothered by my presence and I worked around him. Then I noticed several hopping through the stalls, sifting the dirt for fallen bits of grain. Then I noticed a LOT of rustling coming from the tarp. As I was feeding I was shocked to see several mice racing along the fence panels in the stalls. This could not continue. There must have been fifteen to twenty mice out there. I could almost see the trails of Salmonella bacteria being left behind them. For the health of the horses in my care, I had to act.
When John called from work that night I told him the problem, he stopped on the way home and picked up the old fashioned, kill them quickly, mouse traps. He bought twenty of them. He began laying them out when he got home. Before he'd gotten ten laid out he'd already murdered several mice. We were both amazed and depressed at the success of the traps. He literally could not bait them and set them out fast enough. Within two hours there were 15 corpses and we began to realize that the problem was worse than I'd suspected.
Within 48 hours the corpse count had risen to 53 and there were still faint rustlings coming from the tarp. It was sad. They all thought they'd found paradise and there we were sending them there. The traps are here to stay. I had to disinfect the entire barn area. All because of one cute mouse.
Two years ago we didn't have a mouse problem. We had a lethal snake problem. I suppose the upside to this depressing tale is that the hardware cloth we wrapped around the entire perimeter fence is helping. It's an age old story. Remove the predators and the prey over populates. If anyone ever had any doubts about the truth of that, they're invited to see the phenomenon in action right here.
I love people who love creatures, which is one of the many reasons I hold my neighbors in such high esteem. Most of the people on our street have horses. My nearest neighbors raise adorable dogs and everyone here owns an assortment of dogs, cats and horses.
One of our neighbors today informed me that he'd been having to buy hay, because he couldn't use what he had left just yet. Seems a quail had decided to build a nest on the top bail and until her babies were old enough to leave, he didn't want to disturb that section of the stack.
I love creatures. They rule my roost. I draw the line at creatures with more than four legs and creatures that can harm my family or the animals in our care. I draw that line with a heavy heart, but it's drawn in stone. Rattlers present a terrible threat so we dispatched 12 or more each year in the yard, some in the barn and around the haystack and dog kennels. I don't like killing them. It's not a point of pride and I sure don't feel like the "mighty hunter", they're simply too dangerous. Last year we put up a snake fence to attempt to deter the reptiles. It must be working fairly well. We have not found nearly as many in the barn and paddocks and I discovered other evidence.
I had lived with a mouse in my tack and feed shed for about seven months. One mouse was cute. He'd peer out at me from behind buckets, blinking his bright little eyes, waiting for me to leave his home. One mouse was cute. It was when he began to invite his friends that I started to have a problem.
At first it was still a small problem. I had two or three mice in the tack shed who ate the spilled feed. Then they decided they should stock up for the winter. They gnawed a hole in one of the bags and began carrying cheekfuls of Omolene to their larder in the corner. I didn't notice this until their stockpile had grown large enough (about a foot high and about a foot and a half long) to be seen behind all the stacked bags. After cleaning that mess up, I actually spent some time wondering if I should take action against them at this point. It wasn't until I raised a scoop full of feed at o'dark thirty one morning and felt tiny bare feet scrambling, panic stricken, over my arm that I decided to actually do something about the issue. I bought several large cans to put the feed bags in. Yes, friends. THAT was the sum total of my answer to the problem. I hoped that by depriving them of food, they'd just leave. I hoped in vain.
Depriving the mice of food in the shed only sent them foraging in the barn. The barn is a big place. They thrived. I'd go out at night and see one scurry under a tarp. As the nights passed, I'd see one scurry under the tarp, one hopping like mad across a stall looking for cover and even sat and watched as a couple of mice children (yes, part of my problem is that I think like that), making their first timid forays into the larger world from the safety of their hole under a stall mat. Still, at this point, I merely wondered if there were some larger action I should take. There was, but I didn't want to think about it.
It wasn't until I was researching Salmonella and it's dangers to horses that I found out that mice and birds are the culprits in most outbreaks. It was while I was weighing the options (live traps vs miserable death vs quick death) that I developed an inkling of the depth of my mouse problem.
I went to the barn and there was a mouse in the middle of the floor, scavenging through some fallen hay. He didn't seem bothered by my presence and I worked around him. Then I noticed several hopping through the stalls, sifting the dirt for fallen bits of grain. Then I noticed a LOT of rustling coming from the tarp. As I was feeding I was shocked to see several mice racing along the fence panels in the stalls. This could not continue. There must have been fifteen to twenty mice out there. I could almost see the trails of Salmonella bacteria being left behind them. For the health of the horses in my care, I had to act.
When John called from work that night I told him the problem, he stopped on the way home and picked up the old fashioned, kill them quickly, mouse traps. He bought twenty of them. He began laying them out when he got home. Before he'd gotten ten laid out he'd already murdered several mice. We were both amazed and depressed at the success of the traps. He literally could not bait them and set them out fast enough. Within two hours there were 15 corpses and we began to realize that the problem was worse than I'd suspected.
Within 48 hours the corpse count had risen to 53 and there were still faint rustlings coming from the tarp. It was sad. They all thought they'd found paradise and there we were sending them there. The traps are here to stay. I had to disinfect the entire barn area. All because of one cute mouse.
Two years ago we didn't have a mouse problem. We had a lethal snake problem. I suppose the upside to this depressing tale is that the hardware cloth we wrapped around the entire perimeter fence is helping. It's an age old story. Remove the predators and the prey over populates. If anyone ever had any doubts about the truth of that, they're invited to see the phenomenon in action right here.
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