Socks for Soldiers

     Our country has been engaged in the longest war in its history.  The war in Afghanistan is about to turn 11.  Now, I'm not going to get into whether or not I support the war but I will tell you that I whole heartily support the honest troops over there.  I had two grandfathers fight in WWII.  My Grandpa Ahlers, who is still raising hell at 95, was in the Army. 

Looking good Grandpa!

He was stationed in Hawaii and was sent over to Germany to build bridges.  When the bridge's purpose was done they would blow them up so the enemy couldn't take advantage of their handy work.
     Grandpa Diemer was a gunner on B-17 Flying Fortress.

B-17 Flying Fortress

He was stationed in England.  During the day he would fly over to Nazi Germany, bomb the pants off of them, head back to England and spend the night at the pub.  He loved to tell us that he never had to pay for a beer in a pub and he never lost a card game.  The English were real thankful to have the Yanks over there.
    My husband's Grandpa Stacy was also a soldier in the Army fighting his way through Germany. 
     Neither Grandpas really told me much more then that about the war.  I would wonder about what it must have been like going over to a foreign country where so many people were getting killed.  Soldiers, civilians, enemies, cities all getting wounded, killed, displaced, destroyed.  I think about how I would feel if I were told I was going to be shipped off to go to a war that I may never come home from.  I would have to leave my family, friends and freedoms behind.  I would have to follow orders no matter if I believed in the sacrifices they would ask me to make.  What a job it is to be soldier! 
    This past week my girlfriends, Diane and Susie, joined me to volunteer with Sock For Soldiers.  This is a group that sends care packages to soldiers over seas for the holidays.  This was started by a military mom, Paulette Gilliam, in 2003 whose son was a career soldier and was fighting overseas.  She would send him off care packages that she later learned he was sharing with his entire platoon.  He said that some soldiers did not receive anything at all from home; no letters, no packages, no support.  She decided that she needed to help these soldiers by filling their basic requests for toothpaste, laundry soap, knit caps, letters and little comforts from home. Since 2003 she is responsible for shipping over 25,000 care packages to the troops.  Paulette has a dedicated group of volunteers that make this operation successful.  An out pouring from the community in the form of donations, fundraisers, letter writing and volunteers make this all happen. 

    Diane, Susie and I went on Tuesday night after work and we were involved in labeling the envelopes that would be stuffed with caps, mugs, beef jerky, candy, cookies, socks, letters... 

Diane (on left) and Susie being busy little elves!

We functioned like a well oiled machine, getting over 400 envelopes ready to ship.  We made new friends and left feeling great about what we helped to do.  We all hoped that our efforts were going to make some soldiers know that we care, support and appreciate them back home. 

    The whole month of November I spent all my lunch breaks writing letters to the soldiers to be tucked in their care boxes.  I thanked them for their sacrifices and would then include one of these fabulous stories off the Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Blog.  I'm sure they weren't expecting to get a "Happy Holidays and one time a  goat got sat on by a bear or a horse ate too much marijuana..."

    I'd like to thank Paulette for starting Socks For Soldiers and all the soldiers she has reached out to over the years.  I'd like to thank Diane and Susie for coming along with me that night.  I'd like to thank all the soldiers out there who serve our country and had to make so many sacrifices in their life for us.  I'd like to thank my Grandpa Ahlers, Grandpa Diemer and Grandpa Stacy for fighting the Nazis and giving people another chance to be free. 

    If you would like to help a soldier have a holiday where they don't feel forgotten you can go to Anysoldier.com.  You can search through tons of requests and send a package to a soldier.  You have until December 10th to get a package to them before Christmas.  It will make you feel great when you do it!

 

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to my mailing list or would like to leave a comment please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.  I also have a Facebook page at Jackson Hill Horsey Girl.  It's a fun way to get to know other readers.

 

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com December 2, 2012 

Pinned

     Autumn has been a tyrant lately.  I tried blaming it on her time of the month but her time of the month has turned into a month and a half.  She pins ears flat against her head whenever another horse enters into her peripheral vision.  I have desperately tried to manually push her ears back into a happier position with no avail.  I thought about trying to borrow the jaws of life from the local fire department to pry them upright again. 
    When horses are lead by her stall she has started chomping her teeth at them!  It mortifies me.  It's so embarrassing to watch Autumn terrorize my friends and their horses as they rush past her. 
     This behavior doesn't just plague us in the barn.  Out in pasture she slams those iron, pissy ears back against her head while she snaps her tail at other horses as she walks past them, burrying them six feet under with her look of death.  She chases down any horse that is "below" her in the pecking order.  She has turned into what she once feared...the bully!  I can't believe my kid is the resident browbeater. 
     Not only is she picking on the other horses but she has also been assaulting me with "the look".  It feels like daggers are being plunged into my chest if she feels like it's time for me to give her a cookie.  Things have been getting bad enough with her black mood that I have been sort of dreading her.  Oh Autumn!  What is going on?
    This morning, as I cleaned stalls while Autumn ate in angst, I began to think back to when I first noticed this black cloud creeping over her.  It was in June.  I started taking on a lot of extra horse sitting jobs at the ranch before and after my job at veterinary hospital.  Morning work has begun around 5am and stretched out to around 7 or 8 pm without much time spent with Autumn.  She has watched me sprint from horse to horse, turning them out, grooming, feeding, watering them and leaving her care last and rushed with me exhausted.  There has not been time to practice any groundwork or new tricks.  We have not gone on any rides because of her injury. To top it off my brain had said goodbye to ground control nine months ago when I started treatment for my Lyme's Disease.  When I have had time with her my thoughts are off with the starman in the sky.  A lot of things have changed in the past few months for us.  I kind of feel that if I had big pointed ears sticking out of my head I'd be pinning them back at everyone too.  Too much work, too exhausted, too spacey, too rushed, too spread out. 
    I finished my chores this morning and got Autumn out of her stall.  I tied her lead rope into a set of reins on her halter, led her up to the big mounting stump and slid on her back.  She turned her head to me with a soft happy look and content ears.  I asked her to walk, to stop, to back, to turn here and there.  I thanked her and pet her after each thing I asked and she just began to beam.  She was doing everything perfect.  I didn't need to use the reins.  She moved with my eyes and shifts in my weight.  The more I praised her the better she did.  I rode her to the end of the short driveway and we stopped to watch the sun rise over the ridge.  There we stood, the warm light washing the darkness into our shadows.  Her breathing meditated through my anxiety allowing us to be together in a moment that felt timeless. 

    That little five minute ride made me realize that I need to slow down and have some fun with my horse again. 

I'd like to thank Pam (aka Snowdrops) whom after reading our last blog When A Horse Leads You To Water made this great picture!

I think it captures last week's blog perfectly!  I think we need to make some tee shirts out of this. :-)

Thank you for reading!  Happy Veteran's Day to all of our soldiers and veterans out there!  Don't forget our soldiers overseas during the holidays and all the sacrifices they have had to make for us.  There are a lot of great ways to help them on such sites as www.anysoldier.com or www.woundedwarriorproject.org . 

If you would like to be added to my mailing list or would like to leave a comment please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.  Please feel free to send this blog onto anyone you think would enjoy it.  Get to know other readers by joining my Facebook page at Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Facebook Page.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com November 14, 2012

When A Horse Leads You To Water

     Autumn is pulled to the water the way the moon tugs on the tides.  Whether it be a pond, a river, the ocean, a creek, a trough or water tanks she has to pay her respects.  She will start with a drink, which if it is allowable, will turn into a splash that can sometimes lead into a joyful roll, or even a refreshing swim.
     When we visit the shore, the ocean inevitably lures Autumn into its waves with me towed behind in her wake.  Mesmerized by the swirling sea, she watches the white foam as it babbles around her.  Seafaring nostalgia stirs up salt water memories of my life with these great waters.  I know as the waves break over us that it will carry new memories back out to the sea.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It's always our self we find in the sea.
~e.e. Cummings

    After five years together, I've noticed that Autumn takes great comfort of having me present when she drinks.  I'm not sure if this has to do with some sort of deep rooted fear of being vulnerable to predators when drinking.  The first time I became aware of it was when she was turned out in pasture during the winter months.  I went out to check on her relying on the light of the moon and the stars to reveal her blaze in its blue glow.  After some hello pets she stopped eating her hay, walked a few steps, stopped and then looked back at me.  I walked up to her and again, she walked a few step and then stopped to make sure I was still following her.  She then proceeded to lead me down the hill into the draw where the pond was set, surrounded by the steep and thickly tangled forest.  She slowed her pace until she was walking with her head next to my shoulder.  A few strides away from the water's edge she stopped in the shelter of my shadow.  I went up to the pond and splashed my foot into the pond.  After seeing that I didn't get my head torn off by a mountain lion, Autumn made her way up to the pond.  She dipped her muzzle into the cool clear water.  The full moon made the bottom of the pond glow clear. The glow took away the surface of the pond and it appeared that Autumn was drinking the moonlight.  Ripples from her drinking sent the only shadows to contrast the water from the light.  We were immersed in the peacefulness and stillness of the water intertwined in the  moon's light.  As Autumn drank in this celestial elixir, other horses from the herd felt safe enough to drink as well. 

No one can see their reflection in running water.
It is only in still water that we can see” -Taoist Proverb

     On countless occasions we have performed this same ritual... me following Autumn to the pond until we get close enough for me, the guinea pig, to continue alone until she was sure I wasn't eaten by any monsters, then she would proceed to have her drink and lastly with the herd seeing that we had survived, they would come and join us for some libations. 
     The cute thing is, Autumn just doesn't do this in the pasture.  She also does it in her stall.  Before I leave for the night, she will walk over to her water bucket, stop and look at me.  I walk over to her and pet her while she has her bed time drink.  I watch her ears flick back and forth with each gulp reminding me of someone having to hand pump water from a well.  When she's had enough she gives me a drippy wet nuzzle and settles back into finishing her hay for the night.

Here's a video clip of Autumn's little pump ear's going.

Thanks for reading!  There is a Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Facebook Page where other readers are getting to know each other and are sharing some of their own great stories.  If you would like to be added to my emailing list or would like to make a comment please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com November 7, 2012

A Good Reason to Quit

    Looking out the window I saw the green pickup truck pull in with the practice's biggest Nubian goat patient, sort of surf-balancing in the back.  Nubie, the goat, weighs in close to 250 pounds.  He was coming in for his routine pedicure.  Normally, Nubie sees our other doctor but on this day she was working in our southern office.  I told the doctor to forget about using his rose pruners which he normally uses for trimming goat hooves.  I told him to get out his horse hoof nippers and rasp.  I proceeded to tell him that we usually make Nubie lay down for his hoof trim as opposed to trying to pick each foot up at a time like we normally do for goats.  He gave me a raised eyebrow and the "okay Margaret" look but when he watched the gargantuan goat stomp into the barn he began to nod. 
   We led Nubie into a stall and he cooperated by laying down nice and calm.  In between trimming his hooves the doctor had to stop to roll up his sleeves.  As Nubie's owner and I pinned him down we chatted a bit.  His owner told us how Nubie has a very irritating paper eating addiction. 

This is my last bag I swear.  Tomorrow I will never eat paper again. 

  He said Nubie will assault the paper recycling bin, pigging out on its contents until it's empty.  But, he explained, Nubie has been plagued with a new addiction.  He picked up the nasty habit of smoking cigarettes.  He said that if someone walks past his farm and Nubie catches a whiff of some second hand smoke it makes him crazy.  He will charge the smoker down, head butt them, tear the cancer stick out of their hands and swallow it while it's still burning. 


Gotta light?

   The owner doesn't quite know what to do about it.  A 250 pound goat mowing people down to bum a smoke is a bit of a liability.  I told him that Nubie could quite possibly be the next big quit smoking method.  Some people quit by hypnosis why not quit by a monster goat chasing them down, running them over, ripping the bad habit right out of their bare hands with his teeth, chewing the flaming addiction right in their face, then spitting the slobbery tobacco cud back into  their faces.  I bet it would cause enough night terrors to convince them never to want to smoke again.
   As for trying to get Nubie to kick the habit...

What?  You want my ID?   I just ate it.  Of course I'm over 18!  Look at my beard.
 

...the doctor recommended the patch.

Thanks for reading!  Happy Birthday to my Mom!  I love you!
If you would like to be added to my mailing list or you would like to send a comment please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com October 24, 2012

Imperfection

     I skipped my lunch so I could leave work an hour early and head to the beach with Cindy and the horses.  It was a little cloudy when I left the office but still nice enough.  At the ranch I headed to the pasture to catch Autumn as a fog began to slither over the mountains.  By the time we got back to the barn the fog had suffocated any sight beyond six feet, dripping out doubt of whether or not our trip to the beach would happen.  No news was good enough to send Autumn and myself muddling our way to Cindy's house down the road.  Sure enough, there she was with the back of the trailer open with her horse Syria waiting inside for Autumn to join her.  Cindy and I just shrugged a "we'll see" look at each other and headed to the sea.
     The windshield wipers squeaked out a hint that this may be an abrupt, wet, walk on the beach.  When we pulled into the parking lot the fog lifted.  The fog stopped at the edge of the parking lot, not daring to cross over the sand.  We unloaded the girls and walked along the water's edge as shy blue colors peaked at us through the clouds.  Autumn insisted on walking in water deeper then my boots would cover, so I threw her lead rope over her back and let her follow her own song. 

 



     She flowed in and out of the water stopping once and a while to look back at me when she got out to where the waves were breaking.  She came out of the water towards me with a twinkle in her eyes. She splashed her mane into the wind and took off cantering and kicking down the beach.  Eventually she stopped and I eventually caught up to her. 


What took you so long?

       Looking quite pleased Autumn decided to walk with me over the reflected sky in the wash of the sea.  I became lost in the pleasure of not thinking when after a bit I noticed that I was walking alone again.  Behind me Autumn had stopped.  I called to her and she looked down and back up to me.  When I made it up to her she lowered her muzzle to the sand to a crushed up sand dollar.  I gave Autumn's halter a tug to get her moving again but she wouldn't budge. 

    Once again she pointed at the broken little thing on the ground and gave me one of those Autumn looks.

  I bent down and picked it up.  Sure it wasn't perfect but Autumn had chosen this little gift for me.  Standing there, on that gray day streaked with bewildering glimpses of blue above, as my merry injured horse splashed around in the sea and brought me a gift of a little broken sand dollar I saw the beauty and perfection in imperfection. 

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to my blog posting notification emails or you would like to leave a comment, please email Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com .  Please feel free to send my blog on to your friends. 
Copyright (c) Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com October 17, 2012

A Masterpiece

     Life has felt a bit heavy the past few weeks.  Autumn's diagnosis has been slowly crushing  the positive thoughts right out of me.  Everyday issues have been swarming incessantly through my head stalking me into sleep at night.  Mornings have found me unrested under the cloak of darkness that fall has spread across the land.
     The night sky with its exhausted stars met me as I left the house in the morning.  I turned the lights on in the barn and woke up the sleepy blinky eyed horses.  I tossed them some hay to keep them quiet as I set up their pens for the day that would eventually come.  I grumbled around connecting and dragging hoses to the empty water troughs in the pens that I had to scrub out and fill with a flash light clenched in between my teeth.  As they filled I bitched my way back and forth to the barn setting out hay and dragging the hose to the next trough.  I didn't waste anytime stargazing as I rushed to get everything done before I had to get to my real job eight o'clock. 
     I arrived at the last water trough that was two minutes from being full.  Great! Two minutes wasted when I could've haltered up a horse and walked them out here in time to turn off the hose.  My mind bitching suddenly got interrupted by the hooting owl in the fir tree behind me.  The rhythm of his song soared through me. It took possession of my breathing, familiarizing it with the cadence of his lullaby.  A calm settled over me and I opened my eyes to what was in front of me.  A crooked crescent moon smiled as it rose to start its day beside me.

     The darkness began to fade as the sunrise shook out it's first morning light.

   Drowsy plum and magenta clouds enveloped the vanishing crescent moon in its light. 

 As I watched the sky paint itself in front of me a shooting star flamed across the sky. 

Then, I finally got it. 

This is life.  This is what the world does.  It's not all about work.  It's not life testing your patience.  It's not about bills or shopping or not having.  The sun wakes up everyday.  The wind blows.  The rain falls.  The waves break.  The rivers flow.  Night falls. That's all that really happens.  The rest is created.  Drama in my life is what I let it be.  I dropped the hose and got Autumn out of her stall. Together we painted ourselves into masterpiece happening around us in simple happiness.

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to leave a comment or would like to be added to my mailing list, please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.   Please feel free to pass this on to your friends.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com October 3, 2012

I Have To Do What?

    Working at the veterinary hospital, I have many jobs that when chatting with friends about my day they end up saying "you have to do what?"  Which upon seeing that I'm being serious they then proceed to ask, anyway, "Seriously?"
     My days at work can be comprised of one or more of the following tasks:  scooping up giant poop, looking at poop under a microscope, scrubbing explosive diarrhea off the wall, washing doodey dreadlocks out of tails.  I have to pick up the random horse or goat testicles after castration surgeries.  I have to package up the occasional goat head, cancer growths, blood/snot/urine/poop samples for the lab.  You know, just stuff like that.
     At the start of the week I make up my shopping list of supplies that I need ordered in for the hospital.  I have to order the typical office supplies: printer paper, toner, stationary... Then I have to order the not so typical supplies like: enemas for baby horses, gallons of mineral oil for constipated horses, gallons of pepto for animals with diarrhea and laxatives for goats.  I have to order a fecal flotation solution to make worm eggs float to the top of fecal samples.  I have to order elastrator bands used to castrate sheep, goats and calves.  Then every once and a while I have to order parts for the ejaculator, the device used to stimulate a bull to produce a semen sample (you can read more about this one at It's As Bad As It Sounds Job ). 
    I have to admit, these jobs were not what I was coloring pictures of in elementary school when the teacher asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.  As odd as these jobs can be they are all necessary and have a purpose for the veterinary hospital to run properly, so I don't mind.  But...there is one thing I have to do that just makes my face red.  I put it off until I the manager makes sure to add it to my list.  It's when I have to order...toilet seat covers for the bathroom. 

 I don't know what it is but, when I have to call up the janitorial supply I can barely say it, toilet seat covers.  I stammer like a guy at the check counter who's wife sent him out to buy her tampons.  I make sure I order enough to last a couple of years...to avoid the having to say it...toilet seat covers...twice in one year.

 

Thanks for reading!  I'd like to thank one of our fellow blog readers, Pam (aka Snow Drops) for bestowing Autumn and I with a special blue ribbon.  I love it!  Thank You Pam!!!!

 

 

If you would like to be added to my mailing list or if you would like to leave a comment please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.  Please feel free to send this blog on to your friends!

 

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com September 26, 2012



Cowgirlin' It Up

    I had paid our horse show entries a month in advance, before Autumn was lame.  Now, not only was my horse lame but so were our big show plans.  This unexpected change in plans had me bummed out until my friend Gwen suggested that I show Autumn in the halter and showmanship events.  In these events you walk beside your horse and literaly just show them off.  Autumn was happy and comfortable enough to dazzle a crowd.  I called up the show secretary, changed our events and then went on to figure out what we had to do in these events.  What was I supposed to wear?  Did Autumn need her hair done?  Did I need a fancy halter and lead line?  Are there rules or do you just work it full frontal fashion style?  I proceeded to bug the living crap out of Gwen asking a million questions.  Luckily, for Gwen, the judge was holding a showmanship clinic the day before the show.  I signed up and saved the rest of my questions for the clinic.  
     I went to the clinic that Saturday morning and watched the participants practice specific patterns.  In these patterns one was asked to walk, turn, back up and then they had to make their horse stand square as a table to allow the judge to inspect them.  The handler had to scuffle out of the way of the judge's view of their horse, who was supposed to be standing statue still.  My friend Carolyn, let me practice with her 2 year old filly Rosie, who was already a pro at showmanship.  She was a very patient teacher although I caught Rosie rolling her eyes at me few times. 
    I learned some very important pointers that day which would increase my chances at winning a ribbon.  While leading Autumn in the pattern, I was to walk with my boobs out, butt tucked in as I held my arms out as if I were holding a silver serving platter.  I was to keep my eyes on the judge while shining a toothy alligator smile.  I can't remember them saying it but I think that you were aloud to breath if you could remember to do so.  As for the dress code...I needed to go get me one of them that there fancy new cowgirl hats, to accompany my blue jeans, Western shirt and cowgirl boots. 
    I left the clinic swirling with what I needed to practice with Autumn.  I had to give her time to get desensitized to me walking around with my boobs pushed out.  On the way home I swung by the tack store in search of a cowgirl hat.  One of the trainers at the clinic said that the "taco" shaped cowgirl hat was "in".  I tried on some real pretty hats and dropped them like they were hot when I saw their price tags.  I found a pile of hats stacked on the floor in the corner under a chair, picked one up, looked at the price tag... "$14.00".  Perfect!  I got the best fitting hat that didn't fit and headed to the ranch.
     Back at the ranch, I practiced America's Best Top Model with Autumn.  Despite Autumn being mesmerized by my bimbo zombie walk, she did all of the exercises perfectly and without any discomfort.  After practice I trimmed her whiskers, gave her a bath, packed up all that we needed for the show and gave her a kiss goodnight.
     With Autumn's mane and tail braided, Cindy drove us to the show early that next morning.  We arrived to find our friend Paul waiting, who turned out to be our impromptu groom.  Gwen came over to us and gave us a few last minute pointers.  Before I knew it, it was show time!



I think I lost points here because of my lack of busty-ness



    We did pretty well, that is Autumn did great but, I think I was the one losing points.  Walking around like a fancy lady just isn't my speciality.  We won 1st in one class, got 2nd in another and then I think we finished last in a few. 

At this particular horse show, I found out ahead of time that they do not award ribbons!  Instead you earn points which you can use for a prize.  I was shocked.  Who would want to go to a horse show and not want to win a ribbon?  Apparently, everyone.  According to the organizer of the show ribbons are a thing of the past.  But my friends at the show, not wanting to let me down, dug up a wrinkly showmanship blue ribbon from a bygone horse show and awarded it to our 1st place win!  They said they didn't have time to iron it but I loved it!  I loved that in the middle of getting a million things ready for the show they made enough time to dig around in bags of old ribbons to find it for me.

   It may be wrinkled but it is a treasured 1st place blue ribbon. 

    The horse show was great.  It was not only great because we won a ribbon but it was great because of all my great friends that didn't want to see me unhappy.  They got me to cowgirl it up.  They supported me by giving me another new thing to learn with Autumn.  They lent me a horse to practice with and lead lines.  They taught me how make leading your horse extremely complicated but all the while making it look effortless.  They drove me at the crack of dawn to the show.  They groomed my horse while I shoved a million bobby pins in my hair.  They took photos and videos.  They rummaged around for the perfect wrinkly blue ribbon to make my day.  They gave me advice for picking out the new rage in cowgirl hats...the  "taco" look.  They gave me pointers for the next show.   They gave me more great memories and showed me how lucky I am to have such great people like them in my life.  And of course there was Autumn.  She's always there to give her all to make me happy and share in a new adventure together. 

Thanks for reading!  Thank you to all the readers and their well wishes for Autumn.  Your advice, encouraging words and concerns brought me a lot of comfort, hope and good leads to research her lameness.  It really meant a lot to me.  Thank You!

If you would like to be added to my email list or to leave a comment, please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com September 19, 2012

 

When You Get Bed Side Manner

     After fifty eight days of lameness, after three veterinarian visits to the ranch, and all that time off from riding it was time to bring Autumn in to the office for X-rays.   I stalled on bringing her into the office because I was hoping the extra rest would improve her injury.  Lameness in horses is graded on a scale of 1 to 5, with 5 being flat on all four tires.  Autumn's lameness had deteriorated from a grade 3 in her back right stifle (the area sort of like a knee in the horse's back legs) to a grade 4.  I wrote myself in for an appointment this past Monday.
   I had to work on Monday, so I made arrangements with, my great friend, Cindy to drop Autumn off at my office.  I got Autumn settled in a holding pen until it was her turn to go.  Of course Autumn demonstrated how destructive she could be in front of all my coworkers. She spent the entire afternoon pawing at the newly painted gate, whinnying every time I walked by, pooping all over the place while stomping it into the mats and glaring at everyone who didn't come over to give her pets. That's my girl!
     With fresh green gate paint scuffed on her front hooves we began our lameness exam which quickly moved in to X-raying both of her back stifles.  Autumn was a jitter bug so we had to sedate her for the X-rays.  As I waited for the X-rays to get developed I played with my giant sleepy head's ears and looked into her half closed eyes and assured her that everything was going to be fine.  The X-rays showed some bilateral bony remolding on the medial tibial margin of the joint.  Not getting a clear enough answer the Doctor decided explore her stifles using the ultrasound machine.  He spent close to 45 minutes doing a comprehensive exam just on the one stifle.  Upon finishing he straightened up, switched off the ultrasound machine and said "Well." and then was quiet.  Now I was worried.  He is a blunt man that does not waste anyones time dishing out sugar coated bed side manner while delivering his diagnosis.  That pause was him giving his 100% all at bedside manner or at least him trying to figure out if he was going to have his employee bursting out in tears with his findings.  When he started gently telling me what he found I only heard a word here and there.  "does not fully heal", "six months off" , "may not ever get better", "may be this way the rest of her life", "maybe joint injections to ride at walk"...  Ugh!  Ugh! Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
    I leaned against Autumn until I became coherent again and was able to absorb what he was saying.  The ultrasound revealed that the joint meniscus was bulging out of the joint and was somewhat squashed, with some small areas of calcification in the most superficial part of the meniscus.   He pulled out a book to help me visualize what he was talking about.  Ugh!  He said the best thing we could do now would be to give her six months of pasture rest and then bring her in for a recheck.  He did not want to do any steroid injections into the joint yet because he wanted to see how much healing she could do on her own.  I asked if there were any supplements, exercises, therapies, ANYTHING, I could do to help her and he just shook his head. 
   I pulled Autumn's big head around and told her how much I loved her and she didn't need to worry.  I apologized to her if I was the reason for this injury.  Was it cantering in the arena that time?  Was when we cantered up the hill to follow our friends racing ahead?  Did she do it in the pasture?  Ugh!  I asked the other to doctors at the practice to see what they thought.  Both of them sort of winced when I told them what he found.  One of the doctors suggested giving a supplement to protect and maintain joint health especially since it seems inevitable that she will acquire DJD (degenerative joint disease).  Ugh!
    At first I sucked it up and saw the silver lining.  She's not in pain unless she's charging around.  She can still go out in pasture.  I can still hand walk her on the beach and in the woods with my friends. Besides, during the last few months that she has been lame we have been having fun practicing little obstacle courses by her freely following me around.  I've taught her to pick things up and carry them to me.  I'm even teaching her the ABC's (I read an intriguing book called Beautiful Jim Key , a true story about a horse that could read and spell words).  From the video below you will see maybe it's a good thing we have a lot of time to practice.

  
     Despite being positive I did have my great crash.  When I got her breakfast ready the next day I looked at the saddle I might never need for her.  I looked at my riding boots that I would not be needing.  My heart sank deeper.  I sat on a bucket next to Autumn as she ate and tears just burst out of my eyes.  I couldn't just have the glass half full without realizing it was, at the same time, half empty.  I calmed myself by petting her forelock as she gently watched me.  It would be okay.
     As for now, I am doing a ton of research into this type of injury.  I'm bugging the living hell out of the vets with questions.  I'm going to remain focused on the possibility of her getting better.  In the meantime we are going to work on our ABC and D's.  We will still continue our adventures in life together.  I will love her more each day as I do everything I can do to make her feel better and to make her as comfortable as can be.  Get better Autumn!  I love you girl!

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to leave a comment or to be added to my mailing list, please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com September 13, 2012













  

A Hitch In Our Giddey Up

    With the horse show looming, two weeks away, I woke up early Monday morning to practice with Autumn in the arena before work.  I got on her and walked her for a few laps before I asked her to pick up the trot.  She hesitated for a few strides before picking it up.  She felt a little springier then normal.  Then every few strides she would wince up her head and take a few short abrupt steps.  I kept her going but the little choppy steps kept on creeping in.  I decided to get off and watch her trot in some circles.  I could just barely see an occasional limp here and there.  I inspected her legs for heat or swelling.  Then I lifted up each hoof making sure there weren't any rocks wedged in there.  No evidence of the cause of this mysterious limp was found.  I ended our lesson and decided to let her rest in turnout for the rest of the day.
    Yesterday morning, I saddled her up and had my husband come watch her trot.  Sure enough, he was able to see her gimping along.  We looked her over together and still found nothing to unlock this puzzle.  So, now it was time to call in my number one job perk...free veterinary exams.  Sure, I don't get health care for myself but veterinary care for Autumn... now that's why I treasure my job.  After my childhood horse, Flicker, foundered (a condition where swelling inside of the hoof can cause the bone to sink towards and sometimes out of the hoof.  This is what Secretariat, the famous race horse, died from) I was left with giant veterinary bills and specialty shoeing bills.  Flicker pulled out of it but I promised that if I ever got another horse again, I would have to have enough money to cover emergency vet care. 
     The doctor met me at the ranch this morning and watched her trot and he agreed that she was lame on her right hind leg.  He used hoof testers to squeeze all around her hoof looking for tender points that may reveal a hidden abscess.  She didn't flinch once.  He palpated her leg but didn't find an irregularities. 
    Then he reluctantly decided that we should do some flexion tests.  Flexion tests are when the vet flexes the leg with the lameness, at each joint.  He holds the joint flexed at an exaggerated position for about a minute.  Then when he puts it down that's my cue to make her trot in a straight line.  The idea is that if the lameness was in that joint, it will sometimes magnify the lameness.  So why was the doctor reluctant to do flexion tests on Autumn?   He would have to jam himself under 1900 pounds of Autumn...that's what.  I asked him if he took his ibuprofen because Autumn is about as flexible as I am.  I once took a yoga class and when the instructor pushed my back down for some downward dog terrorist torture position, my unflexing reflex was to punch the namaste right out of her.  Luckily for her, I was too stiff and too slow to allow my reflexes to send her in to enlightenment.
     The doctor started the first flexion test on her fetlock joint, one of the more flexible joints.  Autumn complied but we didn't see any change.  Then the doctor rolled up his sleeves and went for the hock flexion.  He hiked it up and she snatched it back in a few seconds and gave him a hey watch it buddy look.  We decided that he would hold it up as long as he could and when she pulled away we would just Carpe Diem it and trot her off.  He grabbed her leg and had it up for about 30 seconds when I saw the I'm going to namaste your lights out look  storm across her face.  She slammed her leg down and off we trotted.  She looked a tiny bit worse that time but still not totally conclusive.  The doctor said to give her five days off, keep her in a smaller, flatter pen, and to give her some bute (horsey aspirin) for a few days.  So now we just have to wait and see.

Get your rest little Autumn.
She was 11 months old in this photo.  She was so little back then!

   After the veterinarian left, I settled Autumn in a small pen for the day and called my husband.  He immediately worried about me being bummed out that we may not be able to compete in the horse show.  The truth is I wasn't bummed out at all.  I hate having Autumn hurt but she's my baby girl horse that I love to death and I just want to take care of her and make her feel better.  For the next few days we can practice her picking up things and bringing them to me.  I can read my book with her and write some letters to friends. I'll take her for walks after work and let her graze while the sun sets.  Not riding, in a strange way, kind of takes the edge off of something.  I think lately, I get so preoccupied with riding that I forget how much fun it is just to hang out and be with her.  Besides, now that we can't practice for the show I do get to sleep in a little later. You have to find a silver lining somewhere.

Thanks a lot for reading!  It looks like some of you are starting to check out the Facebook page and posting up some of your own blogs and information.  Check it out at Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Blog.   If you would like to be added to my mailing list or to leave a comment please visit jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com. 
We have another reader that has her own blog which you can visit at Willow Farms.  She does a lot of cool stuff with training horses, rescuing animals and raising sheep, goats and other critters.
Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com August 1, 2012

Tree Hugger or Something Like That

     When the end of the summer draws to a close and the grass has been grazed we sometimes get visited by the neighboring ranch's cattle.  Besides some mooing, the cattle pretty much just graze and mind their own business until our neighbors come over to round them up. 
     On one particular day, I headed to the pasture to bring Autumn in.  I gave a whistle which usually sends her running to gate to greet me but, nothing happened.  I figured that she couldn't hear me, so I headed over the hill to hunt her down.  It didn't take me long to find Autumn and the rest of the herd lined up, facing the back fence line.  I gave Autumn another whistle and didn't even get a flicker of an ear.  That was strange.  I walked towards the herd and that's when a I heard a strange low bugling sound.  I came up next to Autumn and followed her stare towards what sounded like a second grader who just got assigned their clarinet for band practice.  There on the other side of the fence line was a bull making love to a bush.  Like the horses, I stood there frozen unable to look away.  I wanted to look away from this consummation between bush and bull but I couldn't. I had to see how this was going to end.

You have very beautiful leaves and your branches are so low.  Do you come here often?  I'm a Taurus.  What's your sign?

     The bush snapped and splintered under the motion of the bull's ocean.  By the time he was done there wasn't a bush left. 

Was it good for you?

     He didn't make any promises as he plopped out a cow pie next to the bush with benefits.  He headed back up the hill.  He never even looked back.

Call me!

    The horses and I watched him until he was out of our sight and then it was back to business.  The horses wandered off to graze and Autumn followed me back to the gate.  But it wasn't back to business for the bush.  There she lay...crushed and alone, next to a pile of bull sh!t. 

Thanks for reading!  Thanks to the readers that have been forwarding my blogs on to friends and posting it on their facebook pages!  We are getting a lot of new readers thanks to you!
I'd like to thank Pam for making me a "blinkie" ( the new blinking icon of Autumn in the pond to the right)!  She has a blog at Snowdrops that is pretty cool...awesome graphics, stories about her beloved pets, gardening and her home back in England.
If you would like to leave a comment or to be added to my mailing list, please contact me at jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.  You can also join my facebook page Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Blog. 
Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com July 25, 2012

Punching Out Old Ladies

     I was shopping at Costco a few weeks ago, when the first incident occured.  I was on a mission, trying to eat my membership fees back at the free sample stations, while swinging in for a few items.  I found what I had come in for, 30 pounds of kitty litter that was shoved all the way back under the shelf.  I scooted half way into the shelf and heaved out the thirty pound bucket of lemon scented litter for my cats to crap on.  In doing so, I nailed an old lady that had shuffled behind me.  She swung around with fire blazing in her eyes.  "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!  I didn't see you standing behind me."
     "You hit, me!" she snorted.
      "I'm sorry, you weren't standing behind me just then.  Are you okay?"
     "You need to be more careful!  You hit me!" She hissed.
     An old saying my mom used threaten me with as a kid flared up with my rising temper...I'll give you something to cry about!  I looked right back into her seething eyes and I told her "You walked behind me.  You were not paying attention!"  I held my stare until she gave a stuck up little "humf", turned around and headed towards the 50 pack of toilet paper.  That's right Cruella Deville, go buy your toilet paper. 
     I bought my thirty pound bucket of lemon scented litter for my cats to crap on and headed to the regular super market.  I had my shopping cart in fifth gear and was peeling out of the toilet paper aisle when grandma death shuffled into my way.  I swerved my cart to a halt and when she looked into my eyes I could see rage and fear fighting to take her over.  You again, I thought.  There we stood, hands on our holsters, as a tumble weed blew with whistle that sang the theme to this being a one horse toilet paper town.  I held my gaze and she backed down the cracker aisle.  That's right, giddy up.

That's right!  I ain't afraid to hit you old lady!  Oh wait. Gary Busey?  I can't hit Gary Busey, can I? I don't know what the rules are on that one.

     The second incident happened at work.  My favorite, late 70 something ranching couple came in after requesting an appointment with me, oh yeah, and the doctor, to ejaculate their bulls for semen testing (you can get the scoop on ejaculating bulls at It's As Bad As It Sounds Job).  We chased the first bull through the alleyway and into the squeeze chute where he proceeded to blow up.  He was throwing his own rodeo in there.  I wasn't sure if that chute was going to make it 8 seconds.  I had to get a bar slid behind him to keep him from backing out and loosing him.  The doctor held on to the squeeze lever essentially holding the bull in place.  As we were fighting to secure the bull the rancher's wife shuffled in between us to help(?).  The bull, rip snorting, and hee hawing slammed back against the bar that I had half way behind him.  I gave it a shove with all my guts and glory and splosh!  My elbow hit into something soft and bam!  Lift off.  It was the rancher's wife! Slow motion kicked in as I watched her s-l-o-w-l-y  fly backwards,tripping over the doctor who was bracing against the raging bull.  She landed flat on the concrete floor.  Oh-my-GOD!!!!!!!! 
    I thought for sure she must have broken her hip or leg or back...  Before we could forget about the bull and pick her up, she was up on her feet.  She was fine minus being a little embarrassed.  She kept her cool and went on like it never happened.  She waved off my apology wanting to forget it even happened.      
    Now she's the real deal.  She is one tough cookie.  If I was coming out of the toilet paper aisle and came up against her in a good ol' western toilet paper stand off, you can bet your boots I'd tip my hat to her as I backed down into the cracker aisle.

Thanks for reading!  I started a Facebook group page for the blog.  Just look up Jackson Hill Horsey Girl Blog.  There are so many cool readers that have a love for horses, animals and stories with extreme spelling errors and grammatical errors.  There are many of you who are talented artists, graphic designers, photographers, writers...  It may be a cool way for you to make some connections and show off your animals and talents. 
If you would like to leave a comment or to be added to my mailing list please contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com
Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com July 19, 2012

Forgiveness Is Divine

     With another horse show on it's way in mid August, Autumn and I are back in the arena practicing.  At this upcoming show I plan on entering Autumn in some cantering classes on purpose (Get the last horse show scoop at Bucket List).  Early before work, we have been trying to perfect picking up the canter on cue and staying in it without me having to squeeze her all the way around the arena.  Granted, the workout I get while trying to keep Autumn cantering might make it possible for me to pulverize Suzanne Somers' thigh master into unrecognizable pieces   The problem is, it is just not a motivating exercise to get me out of bed at five in the morning. 

Not interested!

   To help with our training, I studied up on the latest training techniques and philosophies gleaned from books and videos.  Catchy phrases like "Be black and white", "Get the job done" "If they do it wrong that means that you have taught them to know it wrong"... If I was going to do this I needed to be clear in what I was asking her to do.  I needed it to be perfect even though I've never done it before.  I needed her to get it right away to make her learn it right.  The normal excitement I usually felt before riding Autumn was being invaded by a dreary shadow of anxiety. I even got something called an English Spanker to tie to my English saddle.  It is used to give the horse a little spank to motivate them to go or to keep on going if needed. 
   On one particular morning, as fog smothered the arena, we began our warm up.  We trotted and practiced jumping over some small fences.  I would have been happy to end on just that, but I knew I had to practice picking up the canter.  The thing that bothers me most about cantering in our arena is that it is small with short turns and Autumn is big and long.  I know it's hard for her to balance through the turns while she is gaining her confidence at that speed. 
    I took a deep breath, thought about the rhythm of the canter...1...2...3...1...2...3...,gave her a squeeze and she picked it up with ease.  I asked her for only one lap and let her slip back to a trot.  Then I asked her to repeat it again in the other direction and she did it just as well as the first try.  Of course, I wanted to end on that and so did she but I knew we should do it a few more times for practice. 
    Again, I took a deep breath.  Again I counted out the rhythm of the canter...1...2...3...1...2...3..., gave her a squeeze but this time she just increased the speed of her trot. While my brain was being shaken and not stirred "Get the job done! Be black and white!" chimed in.  I picked up that English spanker and gave her a few slaps.  Her trot went into warp speed but still no canter.  I gave her a few more slaps and she hit A.D.D-hyper-psycho-trot-on-crack speed. The job still wasn't getting done. I gave her a kick, drove my seat into her and felt my patience abandon ship.   After one more "Get the job done!" spank, she threw up her head.  I slowed her back down to a walk.  My face was burning with anger.  Not with her but with me.  I knew that she couldn't figure out how to pick up a canter at that speed.  I knew I should have slowed her down and tried again.  And I ignored it.  I ignored what Autumn was telling me.  She was trying to figure it out but was just physically unable to do it.  What a huge jerk I was! I was more worried about getting the job done so I could pick up the canter in the show ring that I became mommy dearest.  
   Autumn's eyes sank into dark pools of sadness and confusion.  She tried her hardest and she got spanked.  I had to do something to make her feel better quick!  So, I asked her to hop over her favorite little jump.  When she landed I gave her big pets, hugs and  kisses and jumped off and gave her a cookie.  I apologized to her and promised that I would listen to her always when she was trying her hardest.  She perked up and happiness sparkled back in her eyes. 
     She didn't bring up the "black and white" lesson from hell on our walk to the pasture that day. She wasn't mean to me. She just let it go. As disappointed and shameful as I felt about that ride that day, I think that if I could erase it right now I wouldn't.  Autumn taught me some very important things from that ride...I need to listen to her and know when she's trying her hardest.   I need to use my heart and my mind to train her, not my goals, not slogans, not my anxieties.  I need to let her forgiveness give me the chance to never to treat her that way again. 

My great friend and teacher.

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to leave a comment (a lot of folks are having trouble posting comments on this blog...I can post them for you) or if you would like to be added to my mailing list please contact me at jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com .

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com July 11, 2012

Kung Fu Chicken

     Back in New York, I would occasionally help my friends out by watching their farm when they would head out of town.  They had horses, dogs, a bunch of cats, newts(little lizards) and chickens. Before leaving for a weekend away my girlfriend went over all the to-do's and not-to-do's.  After the sixth time of telling me that I had to lock up all 12 of the chickens at night so the raccoons wouldn't kill them, I got the hint that this was a big deal.  If even a single chicken got killed her little boys would be traumatized. Got it.  Get all 12 of the chickens in at night.   She said to let them out in the morning and at night all I had to do was simply shake a can of cracked corn and they would all come running.  She even gave me a demonstration which proved true as she rattled the can and all the little cluckers ran into the safty of their hutch. 
     My friends left and I assumed the leading roll to their routine.  The day rolled out easy enough minus a dead squirrel floating in the water trough which I had to scoop out with a pitchfork.  As the day rolled to a close I fed the horses, dogs, cats and newts, leaving the chickens for last.  Sure enough, I gave their little corn can a shake and the girls came running in.  I shut the gate and called it a day.
     The next morning dawned on another routine day minus two more squirrels dead in the water trough.  With the squirrels scooped out and the sun now setting I fed the horses, dogs, cats, newts and headed to the hen house.  I shook the magic corn can, opened the gate and no hens.  Hum....maybe they couldn't hear me.  I walked all around the barnyard but there wasn't a feather to be found.   I went into the woods and shook the can with not even a rustle.  The sun was setting and anxiety was rising within me.  I went deeper and deeper in the woods.  I called the girls as I frantically shook the corn can.  I heard a rustle behind me and turned around as squawking chicken blitzed past me running for its life.  As much as I wanted to turn tail and take that chicken's unspoken advice to run like hell for the barn a vision of my friend popped in my head...."the boys will be traumatized."  I sucked it up and did the thing that you always yell at the idiot not to do in the horror movie...I headed the way the chicken came running from.  I shook the corn can and headed towards the rustling.  Out of the shadows a chicken came blasting past me with a ninja in hot pursuit. In a full black ninja getup, complete with a face mask revealing only his eyes, the ninja zig and zagged through the trees, rolling under low branches and making dives to catch the chicken.

No rubber chickens were harmed in the taking of this photo.

I was frozen in place.  There was rusteling in all around me.  In the darkness I could make out another eight ninjas that were all chasing the chickens.  I reviewed if there was any possibility that I was dreaming or if I had acciedentally taken LSD or mushrooms for the first time without remembering it. Nope.  None of the above.  This was the real deal. Ninjas and chickens were darting around like...well...like chickens with their heads cut off.  My body decided to screw standing around waiting for my mind to figure out what was going down.  I chucked the corn can and began running for my life before some crazy ninja had a chance to get all crouching tiger, hidden dragon on me.
     The black tight warriors were air kicking, ninja rolling and teenage mutant ninja turttling all around me. But it wasn't me they wanted.  They wanted chicken.   I bolted toward the lights of the barn with the chickens, which at this point, had decided to put their faith in me, and clucked, hawked, squawked, pooped and shot out eggs all over the place...okay not eggs.  The ninjas were karate kidding it behind us as they were eating our dust.  The girls and I burst out of the woods and into the light.  They ran straight into their pen, no corn can shaking required.  I slammed their door shut, not missing a stride, as I busted into the house, locked all the doors and windows. 
     I wanted to call my dad.  I wanted to call the police. But what was I going to tell them?  "I need you to come out right away!  There are a bunch of ninjas chasing my chickens in the woods!" Instead of having the cops or my dad come out and wonder what kind of drugs I was on I decided to peak out the living room curtain with the fire place poker, the cordless phone and the dogs next to me all night.
I didn't sleep much that night fearing that there were a bunch of Jackie Chans and Chuck Norris' crawling up the side of the house.  The morning finally came and I peaked out the door.  Everything looked normal except two more squirrels drank the cool aid and were floating in the water trough.  I cautiously walked over to the hen house and all 12 of the exhausted girls were passed out in their nests.  I opened the gate and none of them went out.  I threw their feed in the hutch and closed the gate.
By mid noon, my friends returned.  I was rolling it over in my mind how I wanted to mention my night with the power rangers.  My girlfriend saved me the trouble when she said, "I forgot to tell you that my neighbor who is a Kung Fu instructor was going to have his students train in the woods this weekend to practice their moves or something like that." 
"Do some of their skills involve chasing chickens?" 
"Yeah, you know he said something about them trying to catch running chickens.  Why?" she asked.
"They suck at it."


Thanks for reading!  Yes this really happened.  I'm not creative enough to make something like that up.  If you would like to get in touch with me or to get added to the email list for the blog contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.


Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com  June 27, 2012