WordPlay

[Yes, this is WordPlay.  Yes, this is the place where the big Fitzhenry & Whiteside Writer Beware thing is going on.  If you're here for that, just scroll down a bit.  Fridays on WordPlay belong to The Write Horse guest feature.  Never fear, come tomorrow we'll be back to the dramafest. --Doranna]

By Patty Wilber

Gettin' in the dirt

I’ve been wanting to get more involved in stock horse and ranch versatility competitions, but I just have not had the horses to do it.  But Now I Do!

Last Saturday:  4:30 am.  Off to an American Stock Horse Association event. Geez, why do all these adventures start when normal people are still asleep?

Got dressed!  One outfit for the whole day!  (Instead of the typical horse show:  reining and working cow outfit, halter outfit, western classes outfit, and English outfit. Each of those also includes a unique bridle, bit and saddle for the horse, as well as slight grooming modifications. No wonder I own five saddles…)

Loaded Buckshot, Tabooli and Styles.  (Penny is having a vacation). No breakfast at home.  No breakfast on the road (it just blows all over in the stock trailer).  Just have to eat at the event:  Hay in a bag!

Drove down to Belen, NM, which I expected to take about an hour and fifteen minutes, but which actually took about 50 minutes. Some sort of odd time warp, apparently, so it was still dark when I got there and I could not see anyone at the venue!

Panic!

Called two people.  No answer.  Gee maybe they are still asleep?

Drove back and forth in the general vicinity, with my horse trailer of course, U-turn here, U-turn there, rest in the Walmart parking lot.  Repeat.  Finally figured it out!

Got everyone saddled up, only to find out I was misinformed about the paperwork I needed in order to register myself and my horses for their competition licenses.  Fab-u-lous.

We are just hangin' out, waiting for the paperwork to get done!

Oh, but no biggie–just take the forms home and do it later.  Whew!  That was awfully nice and laid back of them.

On to warming up.  The competition consists of a trail pattern with obstacles to negotiate; a pleasure pattern with walk, trot and lope; reining; and cow work.

The trail pattern was set up in the arena and we were allowed to practice the pattern!  Wow. that’s different than your typical show.  AND it was a pretty straight forward pattern–all except for the part where you drag the log behind your horse, which I just didn’t think about before-hand and then didn’t think to try while there was time to practice it either… Both horses managed, but had a few butt-tucked-under-them-might-run-off-if-the-log-should-begin-to-attack moments.

Styles wasn’t entered in anything–he just came along for the experience.  Some of his breakfast fell out of its bag, so he pawed.

HE PAWED THE VALVE STEM ON MY BRAND NEW TIRE AND BUSTED IT!

Air swooshed out!

Horsie melt down.

His halter held, and after a few bug-eyed moments, he resumed eating.

Flattened the tire...i didn't mean to.

(I refrained from changing the tire until the end of the day, and this time I got a nice big guy to help me–well, I actually tried to get the tire off, was unsuccessful, so then I recruited help.)

I did all the parts of the competition with both Tabooli and Buckshot.

This is what I learned:  Tabooli needs to move faster and more eagerly, hold his head a little higher and just gain experience.  He spooked at the cows once and at a bunch of flowers in a bucket, but over all, he was more comfortable that at his last show where it took me an hour to warm him up–or warm him down- to where he was not worried about the arena.

He needs to improve his reining skills a gob. I actually already knew this.

Buckshot won the reining!  Spins to the left were the best ever!  Buckshot is super cool because I can ask him to flat out run, and he will, but he does not get all out of control. This pattern had one big fast circle and one small slow circle, and I somehow was thinking there were two fast…so I really started to put the pedal to the metal and –CRAP–we have to slow down NOW!  Whew!  Did it.

Got around to the last big stop and we put on the brakes and that horse slid about 20 feet (well including the part where he popped out of the slide but then kept going…) Then after all that speed, I just dropped the reins, he stood like it was no big deal, and sauntered out of the arena!

He also had a shot at the working cow, but our cow was a poop head.

The cow would not interact with the horse like a normal cow and I (for the first time ever) was not able to push the cow from one end of the arena to the other.  Hmmpf.  And I thought that would be the easy part!

Buckshot did move the cow back and forth pretty well on the first end of the arena.  (This is called “boxing” the cow.) We still got last!

T did well with his cow, but I made a mistake that cost him some points. He got 3rd!

Fun day, so I think we will go to Arizona in November and try another one!

By Patty Wilber

Three a.m. in the New Mexico autumn is dark, with a chill, but that is when the alarm bleeped, repeatedly.  The bed was murmuring “don’t go!” and that soft green blanket was really, well, soft.  And warm.

Not enthusiastically, got up anyway, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled (carefully) down to the barn to feed.

Not the standard storybook fare of apples or carrots or oats.  Nope, we’re talking working horses, feed ‘em something sturdy and affordable.  A flake of alfalfa hay and a flake of grass hay for each equid.  We were leaving in a hour and they were facing a long day of driving to the cow pens and a good many miles of riding.

Drove for four hours, saddled, and tied on saddle bags and slickers even though over head was the intense blue New Mexico sky, cloudless. Last year the aspens were decorated in gold, but this year the cold is just hitting the high country.  Not enough time to cause the light harvesting pigments in the leaves to degrade to their flashy last splash.

We took off…at a walk. No leaping upon the bare-backed steed and galloping across the grassy meadow, because a) I no longer have the spring of my high school high-jumping self who could bounce onto a 17 hand horse from the ground, b) no meadows; the ride starts on a rutted dirt lane between two barbed wire (Bob Why-er, if yer from Texas) fences, and  c) even endurance horses that can cover 100 rugged miles in less than 10 hours, do not gallop from end to end across the day.

We jog-trotted (slow trot, easy to ride, and ground-covering, without blowing up the horse) quite a bit.  Galloping? Not at all. We will gather cows this afternoon, after the 18 mile ride, and then push cows out tomorrow.  No point in wasting energy now.

The day progressed to shirt-sleeve warm.  No wind.  Good horses, good weather, no grading, no computers, no cock-eyed personalitied biology students! No place I’d rather be.

Last week’s cold, wind-driven rain and slick footing was an adrenaline rush challenge (yeah, I wanna be a cowgirl!); this is deep in my soul easy.

The elk and deer were everywhere in June, when we were the first ones up country after the winter snows.  Now they are hidden in the trees; hunting season has begun.  They’ve been replaced. By cows.  In fact, so many gates have been left open by thoughtless hunters or lazy-ass forest users, that at least four herds are hopelessly mixed.  “Leave the gates as you found them” is a good rule of thumb…except what to do when you are pretty sure they should be closed and they are open???

 We made the eastern edge of the ranch in good time, but then took the long cut to get in at the bottom where the fence is not good and some neighbor cows have been interloping.  Slithered down steep slopes of loose volcanic ash  that I would have preferred to avoid (shut up and ride, I wanna be a cowBOY).  Both horses were even tempered and sure on their feet. We did find some neighbor cows, but none of ours.

 Ours were grazing the big meadows east of the bunk house–40 of the 62 anyway.  Sent five neighbor cows out a spot on the north fence that was down.  Fixed the hole. Then we bunched the rest and moved them closer to the horse pasture where we planned to hold them for the night.   The horses had to work back and forth, first to mobilize and then to  motivate the grass-fat bovines.  They had to be quick over rough ground.  Wanna be a cow HORSE? They worked up a full body sweat.

Next we dropped over into Barlow Creek to look for my big red cow. She likes to hang out there, away from the main herd, with her own personal entourage. Up and down, more steep terrain.   The two horses, after 8 hours of riding were still right there for us.  Very game.  Penny is just four and Tabooli, although older, at five, has only 1/3 the number of training hours. As TrainerMom, am Very Pleased!

Found Red and Co., and pushed them up to the first group.  This left 10 still missing, so we made a big loop: back down to Barlow, turned left instead of right and rode east, into the night, as the sky softened through yellow-orange to mauve and starlight gradually filled the moonless sky.  It went from shirt sleeve warm to fleece hat, gloves and three layers on top, cold.  At 10,000 feet, when the sun disappears, the warmth follows, immediately.

 Untacked with the help of the head lamps, and brushed the caked sweat streaks off the horses.

Penny still has her short summer show coat, and although Tabooli has begun to hair up I’d sent blankets up in a truck coming in from the other side.  Given the long day, and the cold night, blankets would reduce stress. T went in a pen too small for two horses when one is PMS-y…yes that would be Penny.  So, she was hobbled outside.  They both got big piles of alfalfa, and water.  No apples. No oats.

Both horses looked sucked up in the flanks–like grey hounds instead of their usual plump selves.  By morning, T looked normal–he eats and drinks very well away from home.  Penny still looked a little dehydrated, although she did eat well.

They were saddled at dawn, which is 6:30 ish at this time of year, and had another ends-at-dark day, starting with finding the last 10 cows and ending with all 62 off the mountain, down at the pens.  In the last big pasture we crossed, Penny (who was working on only three shoes all day–one came off on the night loop) and I went to move the resident bovines out of our path so we didn’t gain mass as our bunch passed through.  She still had it in her to lope a long way at a good clip and get after those cows, then come back to ours, who were moving at the speed of molasses in January at this point, and get after them.

The cows are all at the farm near Estancia, NM now.  Horses got new shoes Thursday and the week off! (And still no apples.) I wanna be a cowgirl.

By Patty Wilber

I bought  new riding rain coat from a company called Muddy Creek.  As we are in a record drought, I have been toting it all over, unused, for months.

Saturday, I was up at 4:15am and on the road by 5, under dark (’cause the sun wasn’t up) and overcast skies.  We made the ranch, at 10,000 feet, near the border of Colorado, around 9 am.  Clouds were building to the south in big puffs of white and gray, shot with spears of sky.

I flopped my green saddle bags behind the cantle and threaded the leather lacings on the saddle skirt through the grommets to secure them.

I dutifully rolled and tied my new rain coat with the left over leather AND clothesline attached to the saddle bags themselves.

The wind gusted and the clouds kept  layering up.  Three drops of rain dotted my horse as I swung on.

We headed out, two riders and a ponied horse.  The ponied horse was superfluous, but she came along so she would not bust out of the barb-wire pen in a fit of lonely despair and come searching for her mates.

The cattle were half a mile east of the bunkhouse  in a sloped meadow near the salt blocks.  The grass was knee deep on the horses and in the seeps and rivulet streams, the sedges were emerald green.

I kept eying the sky, but the clouds were not falling.  Neither was the rain.

Spent some time (futilely) trying to rope the three newest calves, one of which is mine –my fourth. They need to be ear tagged.

Roping calves off a horse that does not neck rein while ponying another horse is impossible.  You’d need four arms–two for reins, one for the lead rope, and one for the lariat.  I was born with the normal number of appendages, so  tied up and tried to sneak up on the calves.

…

I could get pretty close...but not close enough to git ‘em with my rope.  Roping takes a lot of practice, plus MY rope was in my trailer, which was at home.  Truthfully, that is a feeble excuse because even with my own rope, chance of catching was slim.

Gave up.  Maybe next week.

Instead, decided to move the three interloping bovines from Espinosa’s and push them back out the SE fence.

Mounted up.  The intruders were on the edge of our herd, so we cut them off and hurried them down hill.  I mainly provided blocking manuevers because I had the non-neck reiner and the pony horse, which, for fast speeds and quick turns really requires three hands.  Still only have the two.

The sky was was opening up...in that the clouds were parting to let in the sun.  Chances of rain diminishing.  So glad I packed The Coat.

We moved those cows down a drainage, across a creek, took a sharp left around a wall of granite boulders and paused there.  We only had one lost-in-the-trees moment, but other than that, put those animals exactly where we wanted them. (Getting better at that!)

Gave up on the rain.  It was supposed to really let loose.  Ha. Not here.  Guess that means we will actually have to finish our day-work and go home.  No stuck in the mud excuses to stay. Drat.

Checked Barlow Creek for additional strays.  Gotta hate that. Had to long trot, toting the pony horse, down around two bends of green trimmed canyon next to a clear running stream with small trout flitting from rock to rock.  No one there.

Got the three we did have pushed up the hill, through the trees and across the dry lake bed, which was  a boggy marsh in June but is a soft meadow right now.  Opened the fence (the handy dandy fence tool came in handy dandy!), and sent those girls home.

My the commotion they caused!  The stayed-at-homes were mooing a “Where you been?!” greeting and crowding around to see the returnees.  We left them to their inspections and headed east along the bad fence to the S, to see if it had completely fallen.

Still up, and those cows were on the correct side–theirs.

Rode between Elk Ridge and Grass Mountain, where there is not much water.  The elk use the area but the cows do not.  Gorgeous steps of grass sliding steeply into the Brazos river canyon.  Five elk were clinging to the volcanic tuff slope on the opposite side and then bounded up the cliff when they saw us. Wound back around to Barlow Creek and the horse pens.

Saw a porcupine, all golden quilled at dusk, waddling through a meadow on the drive down the mountain.

We hit a little rain, and stopped to tarp the saddles.  So the rain quit.  Rolled into my driveway at midnight. I think I am getting too old for these 20 hour days.

Monday, I went to work cows with my friend Mark, and I did not bring my rain coat.

Got a six incher. The raindrops were 6 inches apart.

The arena got damp on top but the dust was still  hot and loose underneath.  I rode my name across the arena for grins.

Got a little wet, but by horse three, it stopped and we dried right up, and so did the ground.

If we do not get more rain soon, all the cows in Torrance county (where I hope to winter my bovines) are either going on the auction block or are going to cost their owners a bundle of feed for the winter.

I really want to hold on to my five girls!  Having too much fun to give up now.  (Not making any money, but hey, still working through the “start up costs”.)  Just keep telling myself that!

By Patty Wilber

I have been thinking I need to get an official Judges Card, so this past weekend there was an opportunity to judge a 4-H horse show for Torrance County.

And I even get paid!  No idea how much.

First thing: What to Wear?

Ahh!!! I have no nice long sleeve shirts that look “professional”.

Oh wait!  My Show Closet!  Pressed blue jeans and a pressed shirt. Still, I do need to increase my supply of long sleeve shirts. There was only one that was passable and it was yellow plaid.  Something a bit more muted would have been better.

Black hat or tan hat?  Went with black.  More authoritative.

Turned out to be a HOT day.  Six bottles of water and 2 cans of soda, and I rarely drink soda, but I was going to keel over without the sugar and caffeine! I learned from my 50 mile race running sister that coke can be a lifesaver when you are bonking on the trail, so why not if you are light headed in the arena? It worked!

I wonder if the light colored hat would have been cooler?

The organizers asked if I would give the kids a few pointers during the show.  That was their first mistake. Totally brought out the teacher in me.

Net result.  Judge talked.  Show took forever. 9 am til after 7 pm.

Ok but the participants were partly to blame.  First class.  Three entrants, one of which was dead lame.  Stop the class, excuse the rider.  Q from the ringside:  Can she switch horses?

Sure!

A long time later, class one is underway!

As a novice judge, I was pretty happy the classes were small, and usually pretty obvious. Since I got to give pointers to the riders, they also usually knew what I was looking at.

“Halter” is class where the the judge evaluates the horse’s conformation.  One girl came in with  her  halter nearly hanging off her mare’s nose, a matted mane and eye goobers. Oh dear.

But: Teaching Moment! (rubs hands together!)

Western Pleasure involves walk, trot and lope on the rail (around the arena).  Matted Mane won!  Kind of by default, but sometimes that works! Everyone else made major mistakes, and she did not.

English Equitation and Western Horsemanship are pattern classes.  The riders must learn the pattern and then perform it. They can ask questions if they need to, prior to beginning.

I DQ’d (disqualified) both riders in one class.  The ring steward (judge’s helper) was appalled.  They were in a race for most mess-ups, but primarily they Did Not Know the Pattern. You can write a wonderful paper on butterflies, but if the assignment was West African Rivers, you will still get a rotten grade.

School of High Expectations. 

Those two knew all the rest of their patterns for the day!

I got a free lunch!

Two horses really stuck out for me.  One was a beautiful two-year old (so young!!) that was the most gorgeous mover, while being very calm and correct in most of what he did.  The other was another  two year old with only a month of training.  She was not polished yet, but darn sure game for anything.  Trained by the 16 yr old showing her!

After the show, I drove to the farm where the cows had wintered to check the grass (it was right on the way home).  About one inch tall-not enough rain.  But, it was dusk and the clouds over the mountains to the west were flaming tangerine (or is that Mango Tango?). A hawk was scree screeing as it swooped over my head.  No one else was around.

Nice end to a long and fun day!

PS Lacey aka Esmerelda got a great result on the culture of the joint fluid we pulled the 1st of the month!  No bacteria! Infection cleared!

By Patty Wilber

The farrier (also known as “The Shoer”) came to work on the horses last week.  He did  four  horses.  One trim, one full shoe (all four feet) and two half shoes (front feet only).

The Other Farrier came the week before (I use two different farriers because The Shoer is very good with Penny’s club foot and Risa’s quirks.  The Other Shoer does one of my client’s horses and he has done Cometa most of his life.)  The Other Shoer did one trim and one full shoe, with sliders.

In the wild, the hooves wear off naturally, but this does not occur in a pen.  Without regular care, every 6-12 weeks, the feet may grow unevenly or break off, which can lead to lameness, joint issues or in severe cases, deformity.

For my horses, cost is 40-50 bucks for a trim and 85-125 for a full shoe.  It varies by farrier and shoe type.  And my equines are all pretty straight forward.

Cha–ching.

The youngster (Lacey) got a trim– a quick trim at that (and a discounted price!)  The idea was to get her used to having someone up under her moving her legs this way and that (she was pretty good) and to keep her legs and feet growing straight and balanced.  In young horses, good hoof care can prevent, and even correct, problems.

This will be great so long as she ends up sound! The last X-ray  indicated no improvement in the bone lesion caused by the infection (which means another month of antibiotics and more waiting), but she has far less discomfort (a very positive sign), so the inflammation is less.  She is off pain meds and barely a limp!

She is mainly a Pasture Ornament (or is that Money Pit #2?–Winston being Money Pit #1) so she doesn’t need extra hoof protection or cosmetic enhancement. (You can shoe yearlings that are being shown so their feet meet the “pretty” requirement.)

The oldster (Cometa–14 on the 9th!) got a trim.  His Mom, his Dad and all his relatives back about 100 years had to fend for themselves on a rocky barren ranch in Arizona.  Those with crummy feet, poor teeth, or bad digestive systems, died. As a result, Cometa has great feet that are well shaped, and hard.  He has only had two shoes his whole life, on the back feet, because for a while I was  doing quite a few stops and I wore his feet down.

Lily and Risa got shoes on the front, trimmed in the back.  Risa is working as a pack horse this summer and not a lot, at that.  The forests are nearly all closed because we haven’t had significant rain in most of NM for months.  We are drier than a kiln dried 2×4.  Really.   An ATV and a chain saw spark have led to thousands of blackened acres.  Check out inciweb.com for all sorts of interesting info on fires across the country! There’s a huge fire in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.

Lily never had shoes before.  She’d had regular trims, but because she’s here going to school, her feet were wearing down and were tender on gravel.

A horse carries around 60% of its weight on the front end, so an animal in light work, can be comfortable in front shoes alone.  Also, when getting a first set of shoes, it can be nice to just deal with two feet.  The hammering and the feel the the nail in the horn of the hoof (painless) is bothersome to some.

Penny had all four done.  I ride her a lot and her feet are pretty soft.  I had her shod “for the mountains” which visually seems to mean that length of the nail where it comes up and out of the hoof is longer than a on a “show” shoe.  The longer clinch and more grip vs. a shorter clinch and prettier.

All the horses lost shoes in the  mountains last month.  Extremely inconvenient when you a) paid 85 bucks and b) are far away from the farrier and have no phone service!

Farriers normally guarantee their work and will replace shoes that come off, for free. Given the cost of gas, this is a nice feature!

You can see where the nails are bent over and are flush with the hoof. They are clinched.

Penny also has a mild (grade 1) club foot, which needs regular care.  If left unchecked, changes could occur in the alignment of the bones resulting in lameness.  With proper shoeing it is hard to see!  It did not develop until she was two.

Grade 3 club foot.

I tried a barefoot “shoer”. The assured me that with a correct trim I could keep my horses unshod.  “But I ride a lot.” (I have worn the shoes off some of my horses in five weeks).

“No problem.”

After a few trims, they said, “You need shoes!  We have no foot to work with.”

I said, “Duh…” Only to myself, (until now).

Buckshot had all four feet done and got sliders on the back.  The sliders are wider, smoother and longer than regular shoes and, yes,  they help a horse slide!  Slides are important for sliding stops in reining.  Buckshot IS a reiner, by breeding and by ability.

Sliders are the 3rd picture. There are different types of sliders, too...

There is a whole lot more to this shoeing business than these few examples, but hopefully this provided some insight!

No hoof, no horse.

By Patty Wilber

Lacey (AKA Esmerelda, her not-so-secret good luck name.)

She had surgery on Monday. And this is what they found:  Her joint fluid looked much more normal! Better color and consistency and far fewer neutrophils (which indicates less infection!)

Smaller cyst. The bad spot is smaller!  Healing is occurring.

The furazone wrap worked to reduce the swelling. so Dr. Dralle was able to flush the joint really well AND find a vein to inject antibiotics right to the site.  It looked so good that he did not leave the joint open for drainage!

The closed wound is great news for me! Less chance of another infection, less pain, two weeks of legs wraps that I change every other day instead of 3 months changed daily, and a most likely, a less damaging scar!

The new antibiotics are working!

The Pecos.

Myself, my Spousal Unit and Progeny #2 all went on a Back Country Horsemen pack trip Saturday and Sunday.

Left at 6 am. Got about 20 miles down the road when heard “Pop. Shhh,  kethunk.”  Pulled over cuz, yes it was a flat on the trailer.  Not an issue, as I have the handy dandy Jiffy Jack!

Jiffy Jack!

Of course if your spare is flat, it is actually an issue.

What will be open in the Lovely Town of Moriarty NM at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning?  Not much according to the phone book, but we drove on down the main drag (which you can do with a flat on a trailer with two axles like the one in the picture above), and we we saw a shop that was either abandoned (2 votes) or open (1 vote).

Open.

He referred us back up the road to another shop of similar appearance.  We got our flat fixed ($22), bought a new tire (from the first guy; $100 but “Big discount! Really good tire!  Ten ply!”)  We were on our way around 8 am.

We were late to meet the BCHer’s (got to Panchuela around 10 am instead of 8 am) but they were not impatient.  There was a lot of gear to pack and we finally were on the trail with equipment for a trail crew by noon.

Risa loaded and carrying her hobbles around her neck. My hitch of choice is still the box hitch.

Penny also carried a load and got ridden! And ponied Risa in.

I haven’t done much with Risa this summer (ever since she was so terrible at the March show…) but she packed like a charm, even over the little mud and water we encountered, except for that one spot where the aspen sapling caught on the edge of the pannier, bent and then slipped under the bottom of the pack.

Risa, propelled, not so much by the spring in the sapling but the surprise in her brain, catapulted forward.  The tree knocked her pack askew so we did a quick re-center and re-hitch.

The Pecos Wilderness is the driest I have ever seen it, and in fact, the Pacheco Fire started to west while we were riding in. It ended up going from five acres on Saturday to 3000 acres on Sunday. As of Thursday pm it was 5500 acres and only 10% contained.

In camp, the horses were hobbled to graze and then were high-lined for the night. The air is hazy due to smoke from the Pacheco Fire

Cometa, Penny and Risa, hobbled and grazing.

I ended up lending Penny to our BCH VP for the ride out, as his horse was feeling puny.  I rode Risa.  Oh joy.  First, I tried her in line behind John who was being ponied by Penny. Cometa followed behind Risa. She trusts Cometa. I thought.

Jig, spook, jig, twtich. Head toss for good measure.  This is going to be a very long eight miles…So, I put her at the very back.  That worked…

Until after lunch. P#2 was hiking and he hiked behind me for a while, which was fine with Risa. Then he stopped longer than we did at a stream, so he had to catch up.  Risa completely forgot about him apparently, because when he started to close the gap, her imagination lit up:.  “there is something behind me.  with big teeth.  or a big ass knife.  that will be used to stab me. in the jugular.  death is imminent.”

This went on until P#2 was in speaking range, at which point she snapped.  “oh.  him!  never mind.”

She also did fine in the back until we stopped and moved off the trail.  Whenever this happened, her Zen was disturbed.  “they are out of place.  put them back in place!  aahhhh!”

Geez. That’s exactly why I ride Penny and pack Risa.  Much more relaxing.

But we made it home, just in time to find out that on Tuesday I needed to help move cows from Llaves to The Ranch. The water at Llaves was drying fast.

Left the house at five Tues am, returned Weds at 2 am, 22 hrs later.

Banded (elastic at the base of the testicles), branded, ear tagged and vaccinated.

Banding tool for calf castration. Slip 'em in and release the rubber band. Do it again.

Run away!

We got ‘er done, loaded up and drove to The Ranch.  I am two for two in vehicles heading up that road.  They overheat. I was not driving either time.

Finally made the ranch by 5 pm (only took 12 hours to get there).

Yippee! (Ki yay)

Off to join the other bunch that hiked in a few weeks ago.

We could leave now. Except Cowboss and the Amon Amarth* Aficionado were staying another 10 days or so to work the fence and neither of us home-bound folks wanted to go.  We invited ourselves to dinner and then dragged our butts reluctantly down the mountain as the day melted away. (Saw a ton of deer and elk on the drive which was a bonus.)

Time to go. Daylight is fading.

The main problem with going to The Ranch is coming home. Despondent, like waking from the perfect dream or coming to the end of a perfect book. I probably would have hidden under a bunk and refused to come out except there’s no phone service up there and had  hungry horses at home.

*”Melodic” Viking Metal Band.  Check out the video Twilight of the Thunder God.     Viking Metal.  Who knew?!  And even more incongruous:  Viking Metal includes Danish Folk Metal which seems to combine Renaissance fair-like music with growled lyrics…

Amon Amarth will be in Albuquerque on August 29, just in case you want to go…(!)

By Patty Wilber

Tabooli has been a bit unruly, so when it came time to put the cows up in the high country, he was not going unless I rode him. So, I left Penny home and took T.

Part 1.  Putting the cows in in the truck.

Got to the farm around 8:30 am with Alameda, Cinco and Tabooli.  Alameda was T’s first love (back when he was a stallion), and apparently he has not completely forgotten.  He must have been good because Alameda seems to like him, too…

This made him a pain when I had to go round up the cows on my own while Alameda and Cinco hung out at the trailer.

It took me a while because it was like herding amoeba.  They had already had water.  They were spread out and grazing.  The calves felt like nursing and there were three young bulls from the neighbor’s trying their luck in our herd…

T had to go over here and get this group moving then those over there would stop. Then the bulls would start jostling each other.  Then some calves would look for food.  Then T would lose his cool being out there on his own, so I’d have to decide whether to push him through it or get off and let him settle while I moved the cows on foot with him in tow…

A long time later we got them to the pens.

The shipper with his big two-story cattle truck arrived and we began moving cows into the truck–except the ones that refused to herd into the chute…and the calves that snuck under the fence…and finally Yellow 9 that just jumped out and ran off.

T (with me) and Alameda (with T’s Dad) chased her all over the farm for an eternity, while she jumped or went through about 7 or 8 fences.  Eventually, she wore out and started looking for some cow company.  T and I, by keeping a good distance and planning our angles managed to push her back into the pens.  At that point she and the other two loaded right up.

Part 2. Drove 159 miles to the turn off, then 16 miles in on dirt road.

The hauler was told about the dirt road…but he wasn’t really prepared for it.  Went about 5 mph, thus taking nearly three hours to go the last 16 miles.

He had “fire coming out of his eye” by the time he got there and left without really speaking or even collecting his check!  We figured we’d tell him we’d be paying him in the fall after he picked up the cows and delivered them back to the farm…

Part 3. Cattle drive! Eighteen miles to the ranch.

Smoke from the Wallow Fire in AZ made the sun blood red in the morning. My camera didn’t capture it well.

There were four of us moving the cows. This is Jeff. The aspen were much more leafed out than last week. The white trunks never cease to strike me with their beauty!

Me on T with Cinco in tow, pushing the cows past the snow. T was pretty happy if he had Cinco or was near Alameda but got Unruly if he had to do too much all alone...

This vista was really breathtaking. David and Mister are pushing the cows.

Note T's pinning his ears. He got tired of having to follow and starting trying to get the dogies to git along using the force of his personality.

Convincing the cows to cross--I only got a few over, but they acted as magnets and the others came more readily.

Made the Ranch and penned the cows in the horse pasture for the night. The horses stayed in the little pens. T got to be with Alameda AND Cinco. Happiness.

Part 4. Fixed Fence.

We fixed and set up fence after riding in on Sunday and we fixed fence for a couple hours on Monday before we rode out.

This is what fence work does to your gloves. I repaired mine with Duct Tape. Cuz baling wire doesn't do the job in this case!

Steep!

Wet!

After we’d done as much as we could given the time, we saddled up to move the cows out of the horse pen and down to Barlow Creek–in the middle of the ranch, far from the fence that is still laid down.

Part 5. Eighteen miles back out!

T ponied Cinco the whole way!

Back across the river!

T was responsive and complaint all day. Probably because he was tired, he had Cinco, there were no cows, and he is starting to catch on to the idea that the horses all get to stay together.  Except he hates Mister because he is sure Mister is trying to steal Cinco and Alameda.

Made it home at midnight and had to be up at 6 to get to my “real” job.

Haven’t quite recovered yet, but T, Penny and I will be back at it this weekend.

I also got my yearling filly from Kansas this week…she has a leg injury, so vet visit tomorrow to get a diagnosis…She’s super cute, so might be the blog topic for next week…

PS please excuse any typos.

By Patty Wilber

The wind is blowing all the time and there has been no rain.

The farm has 36 cows and 20 something calves, all doing well on last year’s 1200 acres of forage, but there’s no spring green up.  The grass is tanned and the earth is cracked.  Dust boils up where ever I step.

Time to move the cows to the summer range…if the summer range is ready.

I arrived at the farm around 7:30 am, with Penny and T.  Met The Harris Brothers.

Some of the cows were heading to water, but a few were in the western corner, so that’s where Penny (the only horse saddled) and I went.  We picked up Blue 12 and her calf, the bull, another cow and a passel of calves, some of whom had been napping on the sand around a coyote or badger den.

The wind was blowing dust in my eyes and I hung my purple baseball hat on my saddle horn because no way was it staying on my head.

I pushed my recruits to the water, too; easy since they tend to go there in the morning anyway. However, Blue 12 was NOT interested in joining the herd with her two day old baby (Blue 2).  She kept veering off, stopping and turning back.  Blue 2 was still new-born dopey and he kind of staggered along after his momma, panting.

They drank and then we headed to the pens.  Over the winter, we fed them there occasionally, so that is another place they go if you can point them in the general direction…Except Blue 12, who kept trying to sneak her boy off into the four-wing salt bushes to let him lay down.

Penny had to work back and forth to keep them grouped and moving.  She kept flashing back to ranch sorting, thinking she would have to  do something really dramatic any minute, so she felt a little bunchy and tight under me.

At the pens, we separated the cows into two groups;  Group One was cow-calf pairs + the bull, and Group Two included those that have not yet calved + Blue 12 and her newbie.

The livestock inspector gave us the go ahead and we loaded Group Two plus our four horses, and headed for the Cow Way Station in the San Juan Basin of New Mexico, a few hours away.

We arrived and unloaded.

Blue 12

Blue 2 needs a helping hand

They didn't have to go far to find a novelty: GREEN GRASS

Hauling cows is a __________ job! Messy? Dirty?

After we let the cows out on to the 160 acres, we checked and fixed the fences in the few spots where there were problems. I am the novice; have to keep up and learn quick because The Harris Brothers can fix anything, as if they were born knowing how.

The bluffs to the south are horizontally striped in maroon and cream. The mesa to the north has eroded into curtains and caves.

Amazing!

The smell of sage edged up into my nose. AHH…Chooo!

I think the cows might like it here. They will go to the high country ranch in a month or so.

We got up the next morning at 4am (no whining from the novice–besides I had picked a lumpy sleeping spot and and my thermarest leaked, so wasn’t sleeping all that well anyhow), ate, packed up  and drove (and drove, and drove some more) to north of Tres Piedras, near the Colorado border, saddled up and rode around 16 miles in to check conditions at The Ranch.

In the aspens--note they are not leafed out much-too cold. I took this picture by pointing the camera backwards while riding, so I figured it's pretty good(!)

As we climbed up to 10,000 feet, we were blasted by wind whenever we hit open areas (although it was not terribly cold).  The wind and the warmth were melting the remaining snow banks (some were over 6 feet deep) and water was running everywhere.

Mister (the horse) says,"Really? More snow? More mud? More bogs?"

In one spot the snow buried the road in irregular humps that the horses could not plow through,  so we detoured down a creek, over the creek (Mister was not happy), up a very steep slope and across a bog.

I was ponying Alameda.  Penny had dissed Tabooli the night before, so Tabooli switched allegiances to Alameda (“I love her so!”).  Alameda and Penny were bitching at each other.  Penny is used to being the lead horse so she knows that when she is working she needs to put her opinions in check.  Alameda knows this too, but kept trying to take a bite out of Penny whenever my attention was diverted.

Diverted big time in the bog. We got in hock deep and the horses were lunging forward to higher ground.  Alameda got up beside Penny and instead of focusing on the Big Bog Issue, decided this would be the perfect opportunity to take off Penny’s head.

REALLY?! Do we NOT have more important things to do, Alameda? Like not getting mired in MUCK?

We ended up dismounting and leading our sinking mounts, looking for  water on the surface (if it runs on top, it isn’t bogging up underneath) or rocky spots.

It took about three and half hours total to reached the ranch gate, which was stuck closed by snow on either side.  I put my shoulder into the gate and shoved it open.  Penny and I snuck through.  Then I began pulling the gate…right off it’s hinges!

Yep, I ate my spinach!

Heading into ranch headquarters (down in the valley). The wind is trying to take off our head covers!

We made it.

Done riding for the day.

We didn’t have enough corral space. No biggie if you’re Hanging with The Harris Brothers. We built one. (I helped.  Really.) Later, they fixed the hot water heater in the cabin. No problem unsolvable.

It was nice to be out of the wind for the first time in 36 hours!

Next day, up at 6 am, set up and repaired the lay-down fence for the horse pen (in 40 F, 40 mph wind, with spatterings of driving snow for added interest), and some of the ranch perimeter. Lay-down fences (see picture below) are laid down in the winter to prevent damage by snow and wildlife.

Cowboss, fixing the horse fence. Cold, windy, feet are wet and it is spitting snow.

Some fence was still buried.

The snow is still really deep under the trees. You can see the fence on the ground in the forefront of the picture. That will be picked up and attached to the T post I am standing near.

Grabbed a warm lunch, packed up Penny instead of saddling her, as she’d thrown her right front shoe and her foot was chipped (but then it turned out T and Mister had also thrown their right front shoes, but no  chips–probably a bunch of shoes back in one of the bogs…) Everyone made it out fine since the ground was soft.

You can see Penny's mane blowing. I am wearing chaps and my winter coat. I wore that all day and never was too hot!

The cloud cover had blown away and it was sunny.  The wind was still relentless (but at our backs for the ride down).

The wind is whipping my scarf eastward!

Rode out in 4 hours, and the ground was noticeably drier–the moisture wicked away by the wind.

We will bring the cow-calf pairs in on June 5!

By Patty Wilber

So, I bought five Angus-cross cows Mar. 6. Price of cows has been through the roof (due to a decrease in cows in the US–been sold to Japan, and the price of feed…amazing how you can sound like you know what you are talking about if you ask enough questions and then repeat back…)

My cows in March

Three were “three stripers” and two were “late two stripers”, according to the to the preg checker (via the seller). “They”ll all calve within 45 days.”

“Three stripes” means they are in the third trimester and “two stripes” means there are in the, yes, you guessed it, second trimester.  Gestation in cows is 9 months.

Hmmm. There’s a problem right there. The two stripers are gonna take at least 90 days.  Buyer:  PAY ATTENTION!  (Well, in self defense, there is a learning curve.)

Here are two of the three stripers in early March. Neither has calved yet!

A “preg checker” is a person you hire to stick their hand up the nether region (rectum) of the cow to feel if the cow is pregnant, and if so, determine the calf size.  This indicates how far along they are.  If you want details, click here.

This preg checker also does teeth, and according to him (via the seller), I have three three year olds and two four year olds. I haven’t got second opinion on those facts!

Cow Red 4, which is now Blue 11 (more on that later), had her calf immediately.  The rest of them…um NOT!

I have been (not so) patiently waiting.

The cows are heading to the high country to spend the summer, in just a few weeks.  The heavily pregnant cows will not be able to hike in with the rest of the herd.  They are either going to have to go to a cow way station to have their calves and then hitch a ride in, or they are going to have to be trucked in, still pregnant.

Fortunately, my four are not the only hold outs.  There are three or four others.

Once you buy cows, they MUST be branded with your brand within 30 days of purchase. They do not have to be ear tagged, but many are, to make it easier to tell them apart.

To get a brand in New Mexico, you go down to the livestock office, check out the brand book to make sure you are not copying a brand in use, fill out a form, draw  three possible brands, choose a location on the cow (L or R, shoulder, body or hip) and pay money.

In 30 days or less, you get a brand! And a brand certificate (suitable for framing…well not really that nice) AND a plastic card you can keep in your wallet.

The brand is good for three years. Sort of.  Brand fees are due every three years, but ALL the brand fees are due at the exact same time.  I got  a new brand in March 2011 for $75 (the OLD three year fee).  But all brands have to be renewed July 2011, for $100. Pro-rating?  Not a chance.

To view NM brands, click here and then type in a name.

Here is my brand (also good for horses):

Here is my brand on a cow.

Cow Blue 14 (formerly red 19) with her left shoulder "body art". She is one of the two stripers.

My cows were branded, vaccinated, treated with an anti-louse agent, and re-ear-tagged.  The old tags were hand written and fading.  Plus, I liked the blue color!

The bull calves were banded. This will make them steers by cutting off the circulation to their testes.

I went to visit them Wednesday and arrived around 5 pm.  I try to go to the farm 1 or 2 times/week.  I usually take two or three horses with me and today I took T, Buckshot and Penny.

A front was blowing in from the southwest, dropping off the Manzano Mountains and zipping across the plains (where the farm is). The wind was horrendous and it was trying (not very hard) to rain.  I was able to count 24 (three were mine) of 36 cows on my way in and saw another bunch to the south. (There are also around 22 calves, one of which is mine.)

I unloaded (and the trailer door about blew off), tied Penny and Buckshot and got on T.  We had a few words about what he was and was not able to do, on his own, in a gale.

I won. I was somewhat sympathetic as the wind was blowing so hard it seemed to be moving his feet around when he picked them up!

We made it to the southern group and there were 12 cows (2 were mine).  All animals present and accounted for.

Cows are herd animals (duh). What has surprised me is how closely they seem to bond. For the last 2 months, every time I have checked, my 5 have been together.  This was the first time I’ve seen them split up.

I took a picture of my calf, and the weather, worked T a bit to reinforce “who’s the boss” and rather than ride the other two in the miserable conditions, loaded up and drove home (35 miles). Got there around 7 pm.

Cow Blue 11 and bull gonna-be-a-steer-soon Calf Blue 1

Weather on the plains--but the picture didn't capture the wind!

It was calm at my house (nestled behind the Sandia Mountains and NOT on the plains) with only a raindrop or two, so what the heck.

Rode Buckshot!

By Patty Wilber

We collect water off the barn roof for the horses to drink.  Why?  Well, it started as a project to reduce erosion.  When the heavy summer rains gush off the barn, the ground washes away, leaving gullies under the eaves.

We (Jim) put up plastic gutters and collected the run-off in a 50 gallon drum.

The horses drank it up like it was a magic elixir…which, compared to the taste of the well water, it probably is.

Then we got more horses and realized we could also do our environmental bit to reduce the pressure on our well, so we put 570 gallon tanks on each side of the barn and a 600 gallon tank up at the house.

The water starts out clear and in just a few days, hay drops in (from some thirsty mouth), dirt blows in, algae colonizes and in the summer, water bugs appear.  From where?  We live over a mile from the nearest live water!

In short order, we have an entire ecosystem in the tank, mainly blown in on the wind.

When the water level gets low, we clean the tanks.

This weekend, Jim cleaned. Risa was in the pen with him, and the wind was blowing fiercely when Jim tipped the tank up to wash it out. The tipped up tank  twanged and rattled.

Risa was dumbfounded, and when a swirling gust hit,  she thought she might need to leave.  She crouched into a spring-loaded jumping position at the green gate to the north lot.

She was seriously considering her options.

Jim started to yell her name in his best Dad voice, and finally, she turned to look at him.

“OH!” she said. “It’s you!”

The rest of the cleaning time, she quietly ate a bit of brunch.

Jim filled the tank with well water.

Later on, Pepper, who was in the north lot, decided to untie the gate rope and come check out the project.

She dunked her nose in and flung water about. Penny and Risa crowded in to watch.

“Looks really good! ” Pepper said.

She stepped INTO the tank and began to paw.  Water shot over the cinder block wall into the tack room area.

“Get out!” I told her. “You might poke a hole in the bottom!”

She gave me a look.  But then backed out, no damage done!

She rolled in a dusty spot, and the dust clung to her water spots in muddy clumps.

Nice.

She is shedding extensively so with the added fun of mud on a coat that is coming off in handfuls, brushing her is a real treat!

I have spit out a lot of hair lately, and carry spare hair on every available clothing surface, just in case anyone needs some…

Maybe I should jump in that water tank!