Riding Out (older entries)

May 5, 2010 - I've been away from this column for awhile – what with sudden spring, then not spring, then spring again, and mowing, dragging the pseudo-arena, working rawhide, saddle-and-tack repairs for folks now that it's riding weather again up here, and staying too busy in general, this is last on my list. But I've wanted to do this particular column for some time.

Remember Tucker, the dear old boy who died a month after I adopted him? (See the previous Riding Out column.) Well, I live out in the country, and I have the good fortune of being able to bury my horses on my property (unless they die when the snow is too deep). Not that they die often – but on those rare occasions it's been nice to say goodbye and bury them at home. When Tucker died I had this great idea: Save his skull! It's darn hard (and expensive) to find a horse skull to use as a teaching tool, and here it was, just waiting for a little taxidermy. And what a teaching tool it turned out to be!

I won't go into the details, except to say that no, it wasn't macabre (once the spirit is gone, the body is just meat and bones), and yes, it was hard work. And in the words of a friend's fascinated 7-yr-old daughter, Tucker's skull is his gift to all of us.

So, here's my point: Tucker's skull is a terrific example of why horses need dental care. I am very big on dental care for horses (and dogs), because without it they can suffer tremendous pain even just eating, let alone from being ridden with tight cavessons, nosebands, and bosals.

Tucker had clearly not had dental care for a long while. The pictures of his skull show teeth that are not just sharp-edged, pointed, and hooked on the outside edges of his upper teeth (where a tight noseband would press his cheeks ion and cause pain) and the inside edges of his lower teeth (where his tongue would rub), but a more serious condition caused by not flattening out surfaces where his teeth grind together.

The lower teeth, both sides, have developed a "wave"; instead of being a level surface from front to back, the teeth rise up to form a sort of hill in the middle. That wave on the bottom actually pushed apart the top teeth to form a gap on each side that was packed rock-hard with old food (took me a while to dig it out), and bone deterioration was setting in under the packed food in the gaps. My vet tells me it was very painful for him to eat, and he would certainly have lost those teeth and possibly/probably developed abscesses.

February 22, 2010 - In December a neighbor and friend who lived down the road died suddenly in her sleep. It was a shock, completely unexpected, and she left behind eight dogs, a very nice old horse, and a devastated husband of 30 years who didn't know what to do with the horse (whose name is Tucker).

Word went round and I had an empty stall in my barn, so I offered to take the old boy in. He's a small, cute sorrel Quarter Horse, 20 yrs old, who had taken really good care of his late owner. I don't need another horse, but he's quiet and gentle and an easy keeper, and it seemed like the right thing to do. And a horse that's old enough to be kid-safe but still healthy is not easy to find.

Well, good intentions rarely go unpunished. A few weeks later this very sweet old boy went off his feed on a Friday. On Saturday morning he was clearly in pain, still off his feed (of course, these things always happen on the weekend, don’t they?) so I'm thinking "colic". Took him for a walk, which was slow and painful for him, and he pooped (good) – a gooshy, black, very stinky pile (bad). Called the vet, gave him some Gastro-Gard and Banamine, which seemed to help a bit, and let him rest… but by dinner he was worse off, so I had the vet out. Tucker was in a very bad way and there was no choice but to put him down. Unfortunately it was after dark, outside, and we couldn't do an autopsy – but it was clearly a massive internal hemorrhage of unknown cause that took him. Whatever it was had probably been coming for some time, because from the day I brought him home he was never sprightly or kicky-bucky out in the pasture like the other horses, but since I didn't know him I couldn’t tell if this was natural or a change in his behavior.

I was sad to lose him but relieved to have his pain end. He's the third horse I've lost, and it's gotten a little easier. I don't know if that's because I don't feel responsible for his illness, or because it's not such a kick in the gut the third time around, or because in the face of such dire, un-fixable pain all that matters is to end the pain. Whatever the reason, I'm sure it was easier on my vet to not have me weeping.

January 1, 2010 - I've never introduced myself! I'm Julia Kelly, former Air Force pilot and tech-book writer (you can look up my books about using Excel, Access, Outlook, etc., online), lifelong horsewoman, and full-time saddlemaker/braider/leatherworker. My silent partner is the McCormack in McCormack Hill Leather.

The beginning of a new year (and a new decade) means it's time to evaluate the old and make goals and plans for the new. In December I gave up on a beautiful, eye-candy palomino Quarter Horse and sent her off to be someone else's perfect horse. It broke my heart to give up on her, but it was a partnership that just didn't work no matter how I tried. A good friend pointed out that Fred Astaire went through many terrific dancing partners before he settled on Ginger Rogers; they "clicked" and the partnership, though hard work, was phenomenal. That makes me feel better (although I miss the mare's pretty princess face). This mare was just four when I got her and she'd already been through a couple of well-known reining trainers but was sold because she was "too hot for reining". I started where they'd left off and tried to continue her training, but in any endeavor (woodworking, rawhide braiding, horse training, etc.) mistakes and shortcuts at the beginning will ruin the finished product. My goal was/is a horse I can "dance" with, and that wasn't happening with her – there were too many unfinished building blocks in her early training and although she was very athletic, smart, and willing, the foundation was shaky.

So I started her over at the beginning. I spent two years with her in a traditional jaquima (hackamore)  while I began my journey into the vaquero/californio way of horsemanship. With patient, long-distance guidance from Dorothy Rogers at California Classics (Dorothy is a goldmine of knowledge and tradition, and is slowly writing a book compiling it all that I cannot wait to read) I learned the how and why of properly fitting a well-made rawhide bosal and horsehair mecate (and how to ride with them), and spent those two years at a standstill, walk, and occasional jog, teaching her to respond to the slightest pressure and weight change, to listen to me, and to balance herself and pay attention to her own footsteps. I learned how to help her learn and to get out of her way while she did. She was smart, sensitive, and a joy to ride… until it came time to begin loping again. I had old anxieties and expectations of a rough, square-wheel ride on a barely controlled runaway, and that's exactly what I got. And I couldn't get past it. The problem was me, not her, so I consoled myself that our partnership wasn't meant to be and sent her off to a friend who found her to be a perfect lady and remarkable athlete - in the arena, on the trail, everywhere.

Still feeling a little heartbroken that she will be someone else's perfect horse (but knowing that her two years of "slow" with me probably made her the lady she is now), I'm turning my attention to my other mare, a cute little buckskin QH who has been the palomino's unsung understudy all this time. I had re-started the buckskin (Jessie) in her own jaquima alongside the palomino so that I could immerse myself in the vaquero tradition completely, and she has been the hidden star all this time, just waiting for me to notice her. No problems, no anxieties, just the quiet, reliable temperament one wants in a bridle horse.

So, one of my new goals is to have Jessie in the two-rein by the end of the summer and fully in the bridle when she's ready, carrying the spade bit; and for me to be the quiet, sensitive, balanced rider that the spade demands. And to continue discovering and understanding the nuances of the vaquero tradition, the journey that never ends.

November 21, 2009 - Winter has begun here - it's 38 degrees and sunny outside, so I'm inside where it's warm. Horses never fail to amaze me with their resilience, preferring to be out in their paddocks no matter what the weather to being in their dry stalls.

Winter is always down-time for me, more time to build saddles and braid and study the old masters and traditions. One thing I've been studying for the last couple of years is the Californio/Vaquero tradition. It began with a fascination with the old spade bits which looked so big and scary and cruel. The more I researched them, the more I realized what a conundrum they are, and how integral they are to the "old ways".

The more I delved into the "old ways", the long, slow ways that produced bridle horses that were whisper-light and all-day sturdy and worth their weight in gold, the more I wanted to do that with my own horses, even though they are already broke.

I got in touch with Dorothy Rogers at California Classics who expanded my education exponentially and equipped me with hackamores braided by master braider Aaron (at California Classics) and then gave me exquisitely detailed instructions on fitting the bosal and everything I needed/wanted to know about working my horses in hackamores.

My mares have been in hackamores for two years now - almost ready for the two-rein (two years up here is really two summers because I am a ninny about winter riding), and the journey never ends. I've got a beautiful Marsh Bros. spade bit hanging on the wall as inspiration, a library full of books about the old ways and the old equipment, and happy, increasingly light horses.

September 1, 2009 - I've got this charming little dog, a rescue dog (those of you who own rescue dogs know how great it feels to watch them open up and enjoy life for often the first time). She's a Silky Terrier, rescued at the age of probably 5 yrs old from a huge puppy mill in Missouri (along with 19 other Silkys and a lot of Bichons). She'd spent her entire life in a wire cage, pumping out puppies for sale on the internet or in pet stores. Minimal human interaction for her entire life made her a hard nut to crack – a serious case of "helpless resignation" (lifelong depression), she never learned how to play, or for that matter, how to learn. She didn't bark for several months, stood off at a distance watching distrustfully, refused to eat if I was within ten feet of her or even watching her, frightened by everything in this new wide-open world, as you can imagine.

Fortunately for her I also have a young Silky Terrier, a boy from a professional breeder who is everything one could hope to find in a dog breeder – not only are her breedings carefully planned, her puppies are socialized from the day they are born, played with, taught to be handled in every way, taught to lead and be unafraid of new people and environments – and the result is a smart, happy, healthy, in-your-lap dog.

Chelsea Max

Well, the little boy, Max, was the best thing that could have happened to Chelsea, the rescue. He taught her how to play, how to be a dog, to be unafraid walking on a leash, how to run and bounce and bark at the horses through the fence, even to accept  treats. After a year with me, she still won't eat meals from my hand, but she plays vigorously with Max, actually bounces when dinner is on the way, crawls up for snuggles and scratches in the morning, lies at my feet wherever I am, and finally shows me relaxed happiness when I scratch that special spot in the middle of her back. It doesn't sound like much, but all the little victories add up to a whole new happy life for her. My goal for her is that she will one day be a truly confident dog.

If you have the room, the time, and the heart to give a forever home to a rescue dog, they are so worth bringing into your home. Good places to look are in your local animal shelter or on www.petfinder.com (and most breed organizations have their own rescue groups, which is how I found Chelsea - http://silkyrescue.tripod.com).

August 18, 2009- Okay - the PayPal buttons are fixed and working again. And the weather here in north Idaho is perfect, and I can saddle up again in two more weeks when my thumb tendon is as healed as it will ever be.

I'm working on three saddles at present: a buckaroo for me (on a tree custom-made to fit my horse), another buckaroo on a FQH (full Quarter Horse) bars tree, and a reining saddle on a FQH bars tree. I'll post pics of the saddles as they progress.

August 10, 2009- Many thanks to Leslie in California for letting me know that my PayPal ordering system is inop. I will be spending the next few days getting all the buttons back up to speed, so if you want to order something you can give the buttons a try, and if they don't work, just contact me directly at sales@mccormackhill.com.

Meanwhile, summer is finally hot enough here that the horrible gnats are gone - yay! The horses can go out without their ear-masks. The heat and dust are a big improvement over the gnats.

July 27, 2009- It's been a little slow around here lately because I had a nasty, stupid accident cutting leather - I sliced across my thumb knuckle and severed the tendon. I had surgery to transfer one of the two (?) tendons for my index finger over to my thumb and reconnect everything - I never knew that was possible! Or that hand surgery was such a busy specialty. So into a big wrist/thumb splint and "hand rehab" twice a week, and there's a lot I just cannot do until I get full use of both hands back again (including riding).

But fortunately there's a lot I can do in the workshop (I can still cut leather! but a lot more carefully...). So I am continuing work on a couple of old-timey high-cantle buckaroo saddles, which will be posted here when they're finished.

July 19, 2009 - It's working! I sprayed insectide on all the damp/wet places in the paddocks behind my barn, and the nasty gnats are gone! At least behind the barn and near the stalls. So they seem to be local to a barn or pasture and can be controlled.

It's a great summer here, even though it seemed to get a late start. Got all my hay for the next year shoehorned into storage, and the weather seems to have been pretty good for the harvest. Horses and dogs are healthy and happy, and what more can one ask?

July 17, 2009 - Riding Out is what's-going-on - chatting while riding out - away from the arena and out in the great wide open, on a happy horse, musing about whatever and keeping you up-to-date on life at McCormack Hill Leather.

July in north Idaho means heat - which makes it a good time to stay indoors during the day and cut leather! I've got four saddles in the works: two Buster Welch reining trees and two Wade-tree Buckaroos. I've gone to all-leather ground seats, which take considerably more time but make a considerably more comfortable seat (and if you do them well, they do not collapse or fall apart - they will last the life of the saddle).

July also means hordes of grasshoppers that fly up like water from a sprinkler with every step you take outdoors (which is kinda cute because there's nothing on my property that they can damage, and the chickens like to chase them). July is also gnat season - not cute at all - clouds of biting gnats that drive the horses mad and which don't seem to care about flyspray. Face masks with ears help quite a lot (no more running themselves into the ground just trying to escape the awful endless gnats).

I tried an experiment a few days ago - on the assumption that the gnats are breeding in dampness, I mixed up some serious lawn insecticide and sprayed all the damp potty spots in the paddocks. So far there are considerably fewer gnats in the paddocks and just outside the stalls, so maybe I've made a dent in my local gnat population. Time will tell.