September! ..?…!

There is perhaps no cliche more true than “time flies,” with the accompanying notion that every year goes by progressively faster as you age. Yes, yes they do. I find myself now in the month of September simultaneously enthused for the cooler weather, mind blown it’s already this month–and, upon any real reflection, totally exhausted and ready for it to be a new year. The year so far has been may I say mired in “learning experiences.” From multiple herd member lameness to absurd Sheza drama to health issues on the home front, 2016 has been kind of a stinker. But here’s another irritatingly accurate cliche for you, one that I used to struggle and flail against, and ultimately have grudgingly embraced:


And so here follows the latest record of the shenanigans of RHE herd. It is not bloodless, because’s 2016?


Winter hay supplies are a definite Happy Moment..except when the herd realized it was low sugar grass😉

Because she’s Sheza, her shenanigans cannot be encapsulated in merely a sentence fragment. There are many theories on what will cause a horse to not do something unwise again, and I’m pretty sure 5 years into Sheza’s life I have heard them all in attempts to explain her…Shezaness. Once they’re discouraged/feel pain/learn/think/age they won’t do it again, or something. Meantime, Sheza rocks unpredictable pull backs, including once in hand, just after the photo below. Only, pulling back suddenly in hand means you flip entirely backwards and up on your feet, as there’s nothing solid to pull against.



I am constantly warring in my head with the amount of strain put on mind and body considering age, how to warm up and cool down a complete spazz who goes from pasture zero to galloping hero, etc. And then you have her doing backwards somersaults and tearing up legs on her own accord. Let’s just say I have my horse chiropractor on speed dial and my vet supplies are full. Also, I continue to believe that the more she sees at a younger age the better, so despite growing voices in my head questioning the wisdom of riding this red beast, we continue to sally forth.

A few weekends ago, we went to a Pirate Treasure Hunt ride and believe you me, I was prepared to just hike her in hand if necessary.


where in the woods are we?

Fortunately Kenny’s former mom, the fearless T, joined me with her much more reliably-minded home raised chestnut, a 5 year old Morgan; not only did I ride Sheza but T did as well for good measure! It went really well, with spooky flags, randos cantering at us around blind corners, and a last minute pull back at the trailer when Tera touched Sheza’s halter *eyeroll.* Sheza leaped forward again almost immediately of her own accord, for what that’s worth.

Another theory I’ve heard lately is that 5 is the worst year behavior wise, equivalent to extreme teenagerdom, and I can’t argue that last bit, anyway. Sheza for sure does better with a liberty arena warm up before whatever she’s doing, some space to move where she can unleash her size and speed and attitude before she’s expected to think. Moving from the round pen to the arena was a positive choice for her as well, the round pen is just too small for her explosiveness.


Kenny and Sheza on arena work duty


work one sassafras while the other waits


oh, hello brain


Sheza at the tree of patience watching Kenny and I work

We’ve had a couple of really fun brain and butt building (read: slow and steady) rides with N and her TWH mare Josey, some mare faces occur but not many and they both have nice stretchy walks. Both girls are getting great about EDPP, and N throws some good stuff at Sheza like only sharing snacks if Sheza will reach into the scary plastic bag for them.

Meanwhile in gelding land, aside from his arena work outs, Kenny did a few ponying workouts with Blaze to stay loose, and then we all went jumping!

There’s a very nice riding facility not too far from us called Camelot Equestrian Park that has been working diligently over the years to build up their grounds and reputation. I had been a few years ago to a gymkhana before they became more official events and since then they’ve beefed up an impressive cross country course and have multiple jumping arenas, a dressage court, wash racks and bathroom facilities, and boarding. T brought a friend and I brought Kenny, Blaze, and N to ride Blaze, and we had a great afternoon!

It was a great day doing something different and Kenny is quite a fun jumper once I got up the confidence to really go for it. There will more of that in our future for sure! Unfortunately on the drive home that night I hit one of the many gnarly bumps in our tiny 2 lane country road to home, at 20 mph mind you. The next morning I noticed a tire tilted at an alarming angle and through some investigations I have learned that I have torsion axles on my horse trailer, I bent the torsion bar, and because such a set up of is all of a piece, I need a whole new trailer axle. The list of 2016 Surprise Expenses is rather absurd at this point, but okay then, that’s the next thing on it. I may or may not have my rig back in time for Chamberlain Creek LD where I am supposed to escort N and Josey on Josey’s first ride, but I’m pretty sure I can hitch Blaze and I a ride.

And just because Apache hadn’t had had enough fun this summer, I woke up yesterday morning (with a head cold! yay!) to this:


Mind you, we don’t have barbed wire and he was in the safest no-climb fenced recovery paddock. *HEADDESK*  I still haven’t decided whether he tried to go over or under or through it. This horse..sigh.  Fortunately I still have salve left from his last genius escapade, and he’s fairly sound (since again, still recovering from last thing). He’s the type to be a total nutter once released from stall rest so we went off that as soon as possible..but that clearly doesn’t keep this one out of trouble.

So yes..”learning experiences.” Many. Exhaustingly many. At least things will soon be entirely less sweaty, as we now enjoy our very first week of temperatures below 90 degrees in months. And there is always beauty, and a whole lot to be grateful for.

The Summer of Lameness

When last I left you, Sheza had self-lamed  and was on antibiotics and healing duty. That was after Kenny had mysteriously gone lame and sort-of been diagnosed (not for lack of trying..) overloading his wonky right front medial heel–but there was also passing sole soreness in both his fronts that never entirely added up. So Kenny was on pasture duty as well, to grow back hoof and let me come up with Plan Z after the vet’s recommended “Chop the heel off and try to force-level Kenny while telling me that’s not what he’s doing” shoeing plan utterly failed.

Kenny wonky R US..RF unevenness exaggerated after the vet recommended shoeing

Since then, Sheza’s leg has healed completely and cleanly. She’s a butt high brat with a malevolent mare face, and ready to return to work.


After almost 2 months off regrowing hoof with the thought that upright wonky Kenny needed his upright wonky feet, more than both the farrier and myself before him had left him..Kenny is now moving better than ever. Mostly because when it was time for a trim again I reached out to a barefoot trimmer acquaintance of mine who I had an inkling was and turns out definitely is far more skilled than I; turns out he lives nearby and is quite generous with his knowledge, so I’m really excited about his influence on my herd’s hooves and my own trimming in the near future.


’round the home trails with Kenny

He also put together late april/early May quick onset and resolving sole soreness/lameness in a Welsh pony/Morgan on pasture and grassy alfalfa as a very possible IR episode/issue. Apparently Welsh and Morgan breeds are both disposed to issues of this kind; I sort of know about insulin resistance, sugar sensitives, etc, in the way that I sort of knew about leg wrapping, but hadn’t actually had to really comprehensively deal with it, until…

Remember how Apache was away at summer camp being massively enjoyed, riding the Tevis trail, and just generally progressing in life? Wellll…then he found hidden barbed wire in his boarding pasture and despite superficial scratches, came up extra lame. I brought him home as soon as I was notified, 3 weeks ago now, and after having the vet out he ended up on 10 days of twice daily antibiotics, leg rewraps every other day, and full stall rest. He was dismally lame at the walk for the first couple of weeks and I did an epic amount of cursing learning how to functionally wrap legs for the first time.


first there was the many-layer-finished-with-elastikon versions

then there was the traditional standing wrap versions..many..and swearing..

Once his pastern was healed clean enough to image and he was suddenly, happily, coming much sounder last week, it was time for a reassessment so I hauled him down to the clinic yesterday for a pastern ultrasound.


keeping an eye on things in the clinic breezeway after being weighed at 850 lbs

In the doc’s own words after examination: “You got lucky!” No tendon damage was revealed on the ultrasound, though there is still some inflammation in the tendon sheath. Movement and loosening and gradual restrengthening of the area was recommended going forward, with an 12 hr on/12 hr off option on leg wraps, which translates here at the moment to: Surpass on the pastern, leg wraps, and paddock time at last this morning!


Meanwhile, just for funsies, my pasture retired mare Desire, dam of wild child Sheza, came up extremely lame one morning last week. I know things aren’t right if Desire isn’t first and loudest for a meal and sure enough on that morning she was hopping, abscess or broken leg lame. Fortunately I was kind of familiar with this cold hose, Bute, leg wrap, stall rest thing lately so she got added to the list!


what my last few weeks have looked like, in varying horse colors

I got Desire booked in to the clinic with Apache yesterday afternoon if needed but she had come quite a bit sounder and less swollen by the a.m. There’s no sign of outright injury or abscess relief for answers of course, but considering her improvement and existing status as pasture-retired-for-questionable-hind-end-soundness, I decided to just keep on the home treatment path I’m on with her.

Today is her 20th birthday. It’s always a bummer to be laid up on your birthday but her stall is bedded deep, the barn fans are on, and her cool mash was delivered promptly. It could be worse indeed, mare. Here’s a look back on some of our exploits over the years❤

I think that about catches us up on the ridiculous shenanigans of late. I’ve certainly never had 4 totally different lameness issues in my herd before, nor multiple lame horses in the barn at the same time..but times like these remind me of something a ride vet once said after a pull that I was dismally bummed about..”If it ain’t happened to you yet, you just ain’t been doing it long enough.” Okay then. Onward!

a great year in the garden..giant pumpkin anyone?

Tevis 2016: THINK PINK!

This was my fifth consecutive year crewing Tevis–and my favorite. If you immediately imagine 24+ hours of dirt, sweat, pain (blood? check!), excitement, hope, and inspiration, you are correct. If you were topping that imaginary scenario with a Completion and Buckle, sorry, that wasn’t the case. In fact, with a 28 mile Metabolic pull at Red Star, my rider made it the shortest of either her (she made it 55 miles in 2012) or my (I’ve crewed 3/4 buckles previously, the 1 non buckle being a Finish line pull) experiences.

Why on god’s green earth would a short ride and metabolic pull be your favorite experience, you whisper, perhaps horrified?

Because the heart of this sport of endurance besides the amazing partnerships with our horses are the great people we come to know and the true endurance it takes just to get to these starting lines. To have a great ride and finish is a true accomplishment–as is to do all that, *not finish,* and keep trucking undaunted, in it’s own right. Tevis has a completion rate of +/- 50% every year, no matter what–that’s a whole lot of technically qualified teams getting pulled despite their best efforts. No matter the end result, it’s no small thing just to be among the Vetted-in at Robie Park on Friday of Tevis weekend.


My rider this year was my good buddy T, daily commiseration/celebration friend and source of Kenny the Morgany fella. We’ve been riding buddies for years now but originally made contact at a coastal ride when I was pointing out to a friend how snazzy T looked all in hot pink on her fancy footed grey Arabian mare, Niki. This mare can do flying lead changes darn near in place and is just generally an solid but incredibly nimble–and in that instance persistent and tireless–critter who T handled with aplomb. It’s worth mentioning that T chose Niki out of a field as an unbroke 10 year old and has done all the training and conditioning work herself. In that instance years ago, I had to congratulate T on the style with which she dressed and handled Niki, and it was one of those random small moments at a ride that results in a recognition of light in another and a great friendship, one of the best parts about this sport in my opinion. T and I both have had and will continue to have things to learn from and teach to each other, and T always inspires me to keep being tireless and bold. In fact if I may be so bold, I feel like T is a sister, and that is the excitement that Crew Chiefing for her this year brought to the table for me. And my crew-fellows? Her parents, two really fun, interesting, and supportive people that I thoroughly enjoy.


T’s official entrant photo, credit Kristin Ojala

Because we were on track for maximum awesome feels, fellow blogger, Renegader, and booted-Tevis buckle-holder Melinda made time to glue on our Renegade Hoof boots for us, even after things went mildly sideways with the first plan and we ended up rescheduling and needing her to drive farther the next day with her cute babe along. That’s friendship, folks! Does it get better? It does–because Renegade  did some special run glue-on boots for Tevis and T got hot pink!! THANK YOU RENEGADE!


There was swearing and a few 3 person deep YOUBESTNOTMOVEMARE moments, but then there was mare resignation (see above!), the gluing got done, and it was off to Robie Park for the girls!


Enjoying part of her crew, T’s dad


Friday went smoothly; I made it to Robie about 12:30 as usual, tracked T down easily thanks to the strangely strong cell reception, and she vetted in with flying colors and impressed remarks from the vets on Niki’s relaxed but forward trot.



They even had pink chalk for her number!


Here we are! (yours truly on the far left)


credit Lisa Chadwick/Boots n Bloomers Photography

With the Robinson Flat gear collected, parents moving the rig to Foresthill in the a.m., and T vetted, packed, and feeling good, I headed back to my usual Tevis shower-and-pretend-to-sleep spot, Auburn’s Motel 6. I was awake before the 3:30 alarm and headed for Sailors flat to get an early spot in line for the  6 a.m. pilot car-led caravan up to Robinson Flat. I make it a point to be there at the crack of dawn always so that I get a good crewing spot *and* my vehicle is parked up near the top for easy exit, as opposed to arriving later, parking down at Sailors and taking the shuttle up to the check itself.

I did promise blood right? Yeah, there was a bit. In the rush of gear dumping on the escorted drive through Robinson itself I managed to smoosh my already Apache-smooshed finger in my truck door. AND keep chatting cheerily with a volunteer and drive out of there like nothing had happened. Fortunately I’d packed quite a nice medical kit and added it to T’s Robinson bag!

set up at Robinson bright & early

By quarter to 7 I was settled in and ready for T, who wouldn’t arrive for hours yet. I filled the time visiting with familiar faces and obsessively refreshing the GPS and webcast trackers as usual. Her parents staged the rig at Foresthill and joined me before long, clearly recognizable in our fabulous hot pink crew shirts a friend of T’s made; they reported that she and the mare had eaten well and had a fairly smooth start that morning and she seemed to be making good time. We went over our plan to crew her into Robinson and settled down feeling good about things.


thanks for the pic Funder😀

Only, we all started to notice that her status wasn’t refreshing to any point past Red Star. And then the message from T arrived: “Pulled at Red Star.”  OH. Huh. Well…Shit. It’s always like an ice water bath to hear that your rider is pulled at Tevis, yep, I can confirm that now after the second round. The first thought is of course Is Everyone Okay???? As soon as we were reassured that Niki and T were okay, we scrabbled for details as we cleaned up our Robinson area and made the short walk back to my handily parked rig. A quick ride down the narrow cliffy road, dropping T’s parents at their car parked at Sailors, and on to Foresthill where the crew guide claimed all riders pulled at or before Robinson Flat would be taken.

The details began to filter in as we waited. Niki had an apparent mild tie up after a great start and relatively good behavior (so no wild boingity cramp causing shenanigans) for the early miles. She consumed and expelled phenomenally leading up to and starting the ride but needed to pee at a stop previous to Red Star, got distracted, and didn’t.  At Red Star she pulsed in, then her pulse spiked and soon after she got quivery in the hindquarters and peed slightly tea colored. She was given fluids and peed clear some time after that, all the while cheerfully hoovering up all available resources. The quarter tremors decreased throughout the afternoon and after finally arriving at the fairgrounds (not Foresthill as indicated) Niki was checked clear, returned for another clear recheck an hour later, and finally settled back at her trailer in the fairgrounds for the night, looking good and hungry as ever.


We have various theories and strategies for what happened and what to do differently. Niki was in heat and the head vet mentioned a barn full of metabolic mares so the inevitable hormone question crops up. We are also theorizing about electrolytes, pre ride protocol (how much leg stretch/Finish line etc riding or not to do that week before ride start), and just generally how to come back and do better. Niki looks great, loves the job, and brings an enthusiastic but businesslike attitude to the table that makes her a pleasure to crew and cheer for. T handled her second Tevis pull like a complete pro which is part of what made the bittersweet ending to the experience so great. With grace and honesty she handled what happened, celebrated her own better preparation in dealing with the heat, and made plans for next year the very same day that her dreams for the buckle were trodden underfoot–again. May we all be so bold and true!

T and Niki conquer iconic Cougar Rock

credit Gore/Baylor


Sheza’s First Camping Trip and Beyond

Or I should say, before.

Before Sheza went on her first camping trip and caused extreme drama, there were some other horsey doings..


Kenny ripped off his right front shoe (why shoes??? here)–again. In complete exasperation I pulled the other front shoe and have been reassessing my options. I live in a horse heavy area with a lot of farriers–and most of them aren’t any good. I’ve been doing my own hoof care for the last 4.5 years so relying on someone else was irritating enough when it might potentially work. Two pulled shoes in less than two weeks later, nope, not doing it again. An endurance acquaintance mentioned that they recently attended a hoof clinic regarding supporting odd conformation with glued on shoes, using a glue that not only attaches the shoes but can be used to “shim” for something like Kenny’s problem crooked landing. She won’t be in the area for another week or two yet but I plan to haul him over to her and see if we can figure something out, assuming I can mimic it myself later since there’s no nailing involved. Basically, I’m just making shit up now…and Kenny has been in pasture the last few weeks, regrowing hoof and being generally his charming redheaded pony self…the many faces of..



After deciding we needed some help with our mounting/moving off/solo/crupper issues, two of my endurance friends and former trail guide coworkers (read fearless, experienced Arabian hands) stepped up and wanted to work with Apache. With serendipitous timing, one of the gals just moved to the area so Apache got to head out to summer camp promptly and locally. Things have been going swimmingly already, here are some of the highlights!



I’m so thrilled with their mutual obvious enjoyment and look forward to his continued progress.


Oh boy, here we go…

First, Sheza went up to the Whiskeytown area trails and did really fabulously riding with buddy T and her home raised chestnut Morgan gelding. Even the easy trails up there are technical and it was great practice for Her Mighty Chestnut Highness of the Bulging Eyeballs to get practice refocusing on how to travel instead of endlessly “borrowing trouble” as my granny would say, imaging rocks and stumps (and shadows, lizards, etc..) were after her.

With that and a few more successful rides under our belts, Sheza and I went on her first camping trip ever and my first horse camping trip that didn’t involve an endurance event. Leading up to leaving was deliciously low key (fortunately, as it’s been 100+ degrees, one of the weenies suddenly had an abscess, etc etc), which was enjoyable–and also meant I managed to forget a few things because I was so busy forcing myself to stay cool about it self, it’s just a fun camping trip!  The best part about this camping trip was that it was organized with original blogger and daily virtual chat buddies Mel and Funder, and their two young kiddos who would also be on their first camping trips. It was a pretty special occasion that I am so glad we made happen, despite what unfolded..

Skillman Horse campground is the annual site of the 3 day Wild West endurance ride and I’ve only been to it during such. This time around there was only one other horse camp site in use and aside from Hwy 20 traffic and the epic flies and mosquitoes, it was pretty darn peaceful. The campground is in danger of being converted/closed so please check it out and support it by camping if you can!

Sheza butt high girl


The horse corrals are quite nice, there’s a couple like the one pictured below, and a pipe panel camp site as well as plenty of empty sites.


Sheza velociraptor caged

The first evening was quite peaceful, each of us trickling in as life allowed, and Sheza being surprisingly quiet about her wide eyed angst. She paced a bit and stared a lot, but didn’t holler despite becoming aware of the other horses during walks. She nickered a lot at me, and mostly only ate if she could see me. I was rather surprised by that part, as she’s a nearly brainless consumer like her mother, but she ate maybe 5 mouthfuls of hay an hour the entire time. She drank well fortunately, and managed about 2 mashes all told.

the white blur center-leftish is Sheza camper, out my gooseneck window🙂

13570261_946658980926_221388565_oOn our one full day in camp, we had a leisurely morning, adults and kids and horse snacking and wandering about, until we decided a group hike was a good idea. To this point Sheza had been starey but pretty darn reasonable, camping and on leg stretcher walks (Can you feel the tension building?!?).  Haltered and tied at the trailer by the tack room as per our routine, I saddled her up though I didn’t actually plan to ride her. As it’s not a second nature piece of equipment, I’m always attentive not to attach the crupper until the saddle is girthed. As a totally second nature piece of equipment and as it turns out entirely unsafely..I had already attached the breastcollar around her shoulders and to the saddle on both sides before securing the girth. I very nearly got away with that error, but then I didn’t. As I slipped the girth tongue into it’s billet groove, Sheza suddenly exploded and pulled back; the girth and loop flew from my hands, and the saddle proceeded to “attack” her, as it wanted to flop off girth-less but was attached to her by the breastcollar. Major, major D’oh, Headdesk, Lesson Learned moment. Also, the most dramatic thing I’ve possibly ever seen, aside from the explosion that got me life flighted years back and I wasn’t in the witness position in that case so I’ll never know. 

Sheza leaped and flopped and pulled and bucked so high that saddle was visible *above* the top of my trailer to Funder on the other side. It continued long enough that Mel could hear it in her RV, look out, set down what she was doing, and come to investigate while it continued. Finally the d rings on the saddle holding the breastcollar ripped off and the saddle bounced off Sheza’s rump and onto the ground, halting the epic proceedings. 

What. A. (n uncalled for) Shit. Show.

True confessions? I already had the saddle back on her, breathing deep mental RIDICULOUSDAMNFILLYMAREGoosefrabas, before I assessed her injuries. Because it was tantrum-esque uncalled for bullshit, and she was by god going to get tacked back up. I did of course then assess her head to toe and see that she’d scraped up her face– and flayed a neat chunk of skin off just above the back of her right front knee with her hind hoof. SIGH. This is where camping with a wonderful friend who happens to be a DVM comes in mighty handy, as Mel took a look at the neatly skinned wound and prescribed an attitude adjusting hike and cold hosing afterwards.

Bigger picture, Sheza has pulled back at the trailer 3 times before in her life and every time it was related to my husband’s fishing rods being in her physical space; whiplike and super long and far above her head, clearly they are terrifying stuff. I’ve worked with her and them and we hadn’t had the issue in a while. I honestly have no idea what set her off at the trailer at camp, which is pretty frustrating. Ah, well. To hiking!

After a scenic and admittedly hot, suddenly smoky, and near the end grumble-filled hike, the band of 6 returned to shady camp for cold hosing, refueling, and an investigative mission to cell service by Funder to see where the new smoke in the air was coming from. My trusty old trailer-stashed pickle barrel with spigot and hose plumbed on came in handy as I was easily able to hose cold water on Sheza’s leg and settle her back into her corral, where she finally fully began to realize that she’d done something dumb and she was rather sore about it.

woe is mare

13566164_946660767346_1351575184_nAs I contemplated the unnecessary extent of it all and admonished myself endlessly for attaching the breastcollar (she’d still have wigged out, but not for as long), I stared at my sore mare and tried not to keep flicking through the heavy Rolodex of Horse Bullshit that has gone on forever, it seems. It could certainly be worse (though I’ve been hit by a truck AND lifeflighted, in independent incidents, for quick examples), but it does get old. I can only conclude that it’s a function of being mortal, living this life, and taking the risks you take when adventuring past your own doorstep with a 1000 lb animal along, something that I’ve been doing since I was a pretty wee tyke. Fortunately during my endless mental angsting that evening, and between fun chats and great snacks with the group, I did shut up and look up..



I left early the next morning as unobtrusively as a diesel truck, creaky old trailer, sore 1000 lb filly-mare, and grouchy redhead could. Sheza had again barely eaten all night (though pooped, peed, and drank just fine) and I was ready to get her home, hose/goop her leg, and return her to her real mother.

Here’s the state of it 2 days later. She’s on antibiotics to be on the safe side and gets cold hosings daily, turned out with a honey-based herbal ointment  on it and plenty of fly spray around it.

13516574_946612364346_8068866625481593946_n (1).jpg

It’s not her first leg drama. If you’re a long time reader you may recall she banged up her *other* front leg being a herd-bound pill in panels 2 years ago while at training. Ah, the life of a dramatic chestnut princess. The Oscar may in fact be in the mail this time around.

Blaze and Desire and the mini, by the way, continue their grand reigns of Fineness, bless them and knock on wood.

I did get this in the mail today, after hitting 505 endurance miles at Cache Creek in May :


What’s next? Healing..figuring out Kenny hooves..footing work in the arena and round pen..and whatever other insane crap comes along. Keep on trucking folks, you are not alone on your paths, be they straight or winding.  I think you know which one mine qualifies as🙂

The Wonderful Woeful World of Horses

Horse keeping and the pursuit of endurance riding is to me a delightful torture, a painful thrill, an adrenaline rush colored with every emotion–and inevitably flavored with elation, whether in the revelation of (another!) survival, or in the undeniable recognition of achievement (well hey, surviving qualifies there too).

The last few weeks have exemplified the above fantastically. It’s a hot mess of happenings, so let’s break it down horse by horse.


At our last check in, Kenny had rocked the Whiskeytown Chaser LD but a few weeks later had come up inconsistently off a few miles into riding (did I feel that? am I crazy? What was that???)–and then again, but this time undeniably, a week after that. From there I booked him into Loomis Basin Equine’s lameness  vet and we conducted systematic diagnostics: lameness exam, flexion test, blocking, and xrays. As we’d figured, that toed out, offset right front leg with the uneven heel and therefore uneven loading was the issue. He was also reactive to hoof testers on both front hooves. Kenny will always be built crookedly and came with a vastly higher lateral heel (and crooked hoof capsule) on that right front. I wasn’t able to bring down and even that landing and support him comfortably barefoot for performance (i.e more than light use). I’m not saying that it’s impossible to do barefoot or looking to argue theory, I’m simply saying that I am not that skilled and was happy (but always sharp eyed and ¿quizzical?) to surrender to experts in a case that is beyond me.

Toed out on both front but offset on that RF too

 on the Right, an extreme example of the medial loading  that led to soreness  

To simplify, with Kenny sound on soft footing but ouchy on that overloaded medial heel on the hard ground, the vet prescribed a balancing trim and shoeing with very generous medial support-as in, the darn shoe is sticking out quite a bit to the inside and Kenny now needs to wear front bell boots 24/7 to protect the shoes. In true Kenny fashion, he’s only 14 hands high but needs size Large bell boots– and how do I know? Not intuitively, I’ll tell ya. Actually I bought the wrong size a few times, which as a country mouse involves rather an epic amount of driving to be so very wrong. Fortunately, Kenny obliged me by promptly trying to remove his generously supported special shoe before I got the right boots on so we had to pop back down  to the clinic for a reset; a nearby tack store in that area yielded an employee and bell boots–into my actual trailer to make sure the darn things fit before purchase this time around.

Fortunately, Kenny is a pretty glamorous loafer. As a riding buddy recently said, “he wasn’t born fancy but momma bought him some.”  I’m literally still snickerrrsnorting…


Kenny is now 85% balanced medial-laterally in that RF so will be enjoying his large hilly pasture until the next shoeing cycle where he should come 100% balanced and work can hopefully resume. He was already non reactive to hoof testers by the shoeing and looks great in the field, but as it took miles to come on before, well, I’ll believe this is the right path when I see and feel it I guess!


Apache makes Kenny look like the simplest case in the world. We’ve been on a long path of trust building since bringing him home from Oregon over a year ago, with seemingly equal progress and set backs. While he’s undoubtedly unfurled a whole lot towards humans and warmed to me particularly, he has an intensity and for lack of a better term PTSD regarding his barrel and flanks, girth tightening, and the mounting and moving off process. ***He’s had all the appropriate health care, regular chiropractic, and is on ulcer support*** His short, widely sprung, and downhill from the croup conformation may in fact have originally caused the saddle/cinching issues that he now still copes mentally with, I won’t ever truly know. I do know that the previous home sent him to a trainer with good intentions and got him back described as cold backed which I can’t entirely argue at this point, though it has different meanings to different people.


We’ve started entirely over, from bareback and halter in the round pen, done by me and by a braver horse savvy counterpart last fall, done extensive hiking and ponying from bare to fully tacked with crupper, and built up from bareback trail rides to tacked, and had some great rides with buddy horses where Apache truly seemed to enjoy the trail. There are, however, gaping holes in his actual training and serious trust issues between the two of us about the mounting and moving off from mounting process. He’s also impossible to saddle fit, as everything wants to slide forward, but he’s not at all  kosher about a crupper and rider, though he works fine in all terrain with a crupper and no rider. For all the good rides with buddies, I’ve come off him 3 times now in those moments after mounting, too. I was life flighted to a body part rebuild some years ago and already have enough fear issues about mounting that I sent my home born filly Sheza to a trusted trainer for her  first 60 days under saddle so that she’d learn about mounting and riding without my anxiety involved. It was the best decision I ever made for Sheza and I. When it came time for me to mount her for the first time I was nervous jelly–and she was confident and bored. Instantly my confidence was buoyed and we’ve only soared from there.

So, Apache and I. We’re both not okay with the mounting and moving off process. We can rush through it and survive with a buddy horse there, as his competitive spirit immediately takes over and he’s off and moving his feet in pursuit of sanity. That strikes me more as stolen rides than true safe riding and training, especially when I compare it to the supple give of Sheza even at her young age. She’s big and snorty and hotter than Apache, but I know she and I are on the same page so I confidently take her shenanigans in stride as you need to with green horses. I’m a button polisher and horse improver but I am not a trainer, and I’m feeling the lack of my skills almost but not quite as much as I’m feeling the fear when trying to proceed with Apache.

I’ve shared this with knowledgeable horse friends and my husband, and 90% of the horse friends say the same as the husband–too risky, too stressful, too many odds against. Find him a new home, someone else needs a lawn mower, etc. A few people suggested finding a good trainer, which was my first thought as a stubborn redhead who doesn’t want to not be the right thing for a horse she really likes. I haven’t decided either way but I do feel secure in my decision to not try to continue riding Apache unless there’s some outside intervention.


With epic gelding fails left and right, Sheza has been embracing her role as the shiny star of life. The temperatures have been so high that we’re already saying, “Oh look it’s only 98 today!” so we’ve been hitting the trails in the warm evenings until dark and it’s just a sublime time to ride.

Maybe I’m overreacting but I feel like I can literally see the confidence grow in these 3 photo grids of our evening adventures, from the first night out past her bedtime to last night when we easily climbed the local big hill and rolled back to the trailer in the dark.






So, as usual, it’s a mixed bag of thrilling highs and kick to the gut lows with the herd around here. I know I’m not alone in the horse trenches, so against the odds and the occasional annoying or downright ridiculous advice, I keep sharing and hoping and learning. Wishing you all well on your journeys.



A Week!

This week was my 29th birthday and 6th wedding anniversary; the hoof and boot schedule was light and I took full advantage, getting all 4 of my saddle horses out. It was a gloriously mixed bag of successes and failures, and garnered some lovely photos if I do say so myself.

Sheza Mare

In which 5 year old chestnut mare Sheza Blaznhaat Xpres reasserts her right to her name

On my birthday ride Sheza spooked at everything, tried to dive behind Blaze who was being piloted by trainee rider N, refused minute water crossings, and just generally was terrifically bad for 8 miles. She went over all the water, to be sure, but she made sure we had a real chat about each and every one. Scatterbrains R us!


Back to work early the next morning, she learned about cruppers. Starting at clipped to the saddle but not around the tail, all the way up through the steps to properly applied, Sheza also shared her feelings:


While fussing with the crupper throughout it became clear that she was in ridiculous heat, winking and jelly legged when I was near her hind end. But she got down to work in time.





in which Kenny moves fabulously for 5 miles, then starts the head bobbing, apparent offness that intermittently appeared 2 weeks ago


It was so beautiful out


and he looked so good

But he was definitely off about 5 miles in. Opinions vary but I *felt* that he was off on the right front (yes, automatically my mind goes so Left hind?!) and a couple of friends including a vet felt that it appeared in video to be the right front. To refresh, Kenny toes out in front pretty grandly, and his right front leg is offset at the knee. I learned to adjust his boots crookedly to match his conformation a few months ago. His right front hoof had a massively higher outside heel when he came home last fall, and just a lot of extra hoof in general it seemed:


I’ve been gradually adjusting his angles, but as with not expecting straight boots to fit crooked feet, it doesn’t seem prudent to ignore the possibility that I’ve messed with what nature intended, that is, a wonky tall heeled foot to match the leg. He was certainly sound when he came home, and moved fabulously through and after April’s Whiskeytown Chaser and I haven’t aggressively trimmed or ridden him since. One short ride that may not have been enough trotting to reveal whatever it is if it was there, and the last two rides where something showed up partway through. So, off to the vet for a trimming xray or lameness exam or SOMETHING, for Mr. Kenny.

I can’t neglect to mention and show off our home grown roses in an anniversary bouquet🙂


I’ve been having little to no luck shimming the Specialized Trailmaster to downhill propane tank Apache, and despite having ideal Viper hoof conformation, he’s been getting hair disruption/skin irritation from his boot captivators. Yesterday I addressed both by hauling him 2 hours up to the site of the Whiskeytown Chaser ride to meet local riding buddy and saddle guru, T. She brought a literal cab load of saddles and I brought desitin and a really cute steed.

After trying just about all of the saddles on and quickly ruling them out, we also threw on my Specialized for good measure. Tera showed me how the tree itself had too much rock and made a downward pressure point, as Apache’s back is very broad and flat. Fortunately we did have that Just Right moment when she put her big Morgan’s Full QH Bar Abetta on little 14 hand Apache. I shouldn’t say little, because he’s got great bone and apparently needs a Full QH bar saddle but–he’s 14 hh, too, like an adorable,sweet, living stuffed animal I swear.

ANYWAY! Saddle chosen, I slathered desitin on Apache’s heel bulbs under his Vipers, which have factory provided fabric liners instead of standard neoprene, and off we went. Whiskeytown riding means rock scrambles, hills, water crossings, children/ppl/biker/random obstacles, and epic weather. We left in the sun, climbed up into an overly generous rain cloud, and descended again with steaming ponies. A friendly cyclist happened to be a professional photographer and snapped photos he later emailed to us, so basically we did a mini mini endurance ride! And it was grand.

thanks photographer guy, I’m terrible with names sorry!

Loved this shot by T, and p.s. desitin around the heel bulbs worked a treat on a wet, technical, hilly ride.


The soggy portion, in which Apache questioned my wisdom, but gamely strode on

We Survived, let’s pee and eat and ruminate on things as we cruise back to the trailer

A well earned snack and nap for ponies while the humans relieved the cooler of it’s contents..


..and a beautiful evening


It was a roller coaster week as usual in this horsey game, but if we don’t keep trucking, trying, laughing, and crying, we’re wasting this short precious thing called life. Onward!