Cody

Well, well, well. Cody. She’s one tough nut to crack. Still, after TEN MONTHS, of which I remind her almost daily, I cannot simply walk up to her, let alone touch her. She came to ISPMB in the fall of 2004, from the Sheldon Mountains in Nevada; I estimated her age to be about 16, which means she ran free for about four years before going to the sanctuary where she was never gentled or worked.

After several consultations, I think she may well be 20 years old or so, which means she had about eight years on the open range. Either way, she’s pretty much set on not trusting humans very much.

However, she had no real issues during transport, and while she initially spent a great deal of time gazing over the fence, she never tried to jump it and never acted crazy; just wary. And she never had a problem with me working with or approaching her colt, Cavalry.

She does answer when I whistle; she waits at the fence for me at feeding time and is not shy about hollering if I’m running a few minutes late. You could say she can tell time . . . at least twice a day!

I can walk up to her within about two feet before she moves away—she doesn’t bolt, just steps back a bit. I’ve touched her nose a few times. Surprised us both! And now, she often takes cookies from my hand but she’s an expert at NOT TOUCHING THAT HAND. She’ll also eat a bit from a bucket that I’m holding, as long as I don’t try to touch her. And she’ll often approach me, only to within maybe four feet or so—but that’s her limit.

And she’ll go in the barn, into her own stall. She won’t stay long, we’re still working on that, and she prefers having an escape route, either with the stall door mostly open or an open gate into the pasture.

Many mares from this rescue were pregnant, and I was sure that Cody was. So sure, that I stayed up nights checking on her, took endless numbers of pictures, and did a lot of research. At this point, and given her age, I really don’t think we’ll have another Catnip foal; Cavalry was probably her last.

On the other hand, she does look pregnant from the back, but not really from the side or any other place. If she does have a foal, it should be in the next month or so, but I’m not holding my breath.

Cavalry

Best guess, Cavalry was born around July 1^st of last year, meaning he’s just over a year old. I based this on many factors, including his appearance when he arrived, when his third incisors broke through, and his studly behavior in February.

That behavior, by the way, continued until recently when he was gelded. Man, I sure hated to do that, but I’m not running a stud farm here after all, and I’ve definitely reached my limit on horses—more on that later! If I’d also had a Catnip mare that wasn’t his mother, I might have held off a bit longer. But it wasn’t fair to make him live alone, essentially, and even though he’s pretty sweet most of the time, that could change with all that extra testosterone running amok. And, well, if I were 20 or so years younger, that might have made a difference too!

Cav will stand still to be brushed and he’ll tolerate fly wipe and sometimes even fly spray. He’ll halter and lead. He knows “whoa” and “back.” He’ll give kisses and he’s absolutely a treat hog. He also—until hopefully now, loves the ladies. He and Nick had quite a circus act going on for a while, but Val will kick the snot out of him if he tries anything.

He’s a good boy most of the time and sometimes really feels his oats in the mornings when it’s cool. He can buck and run and play with the best of him and never takes a tumble. And even when the girls escaped not long ago, he stayed in the fence. He also knows which stall is his and goes right in when I open the gate.

He did give me a nasty bruise a month ago—my fault, really. I had a cookie in my hand and was approaching Cody, not paying enough attention, and he sneaked up behind me and chomped on my arm. Brat. Of course I tapped his nose and told him, “NO!” but that was all. He hasn’t tried anything since . . .

Well, I started and stopped a few blogs on a variety of topics, but nothing seemed quite right. So I figured I’d tell you what all I’d been doing during my self-imposed hiatus the last eight months or so.

Good grief. Hadn’t realized it’d been that long!

Besides all the noteworthy events, we’re still homesteading and prepping. There’s still a large garden to plant and harvest and, in between, maintain; still cleanup and wood-cutting; still a few projects. But here’s the highlight reel:

February

My last post was all about Cody and Cavalry—I looked back and saw pictures of my fuzzy little boy and his sure-looks-pregnant mama. Ha. And ha again. More on that later, but the joke’s on me!

On February 14^th, I added two more mustangs to the farm. They came from the same place as Cody and Cav, but a different herd. Meet Virginia Range’s Hallelujah Nickel and Virginia Range’s Hallelujah Valentine, approximately 2 ½ and 1 ½ years old, respectively.

The morning after their arrival, Nickel/Nick/Nicky came right up to me at the fence—I suspect she’s a ringer; but it took about six weeks before Val would stand still for a light touch on her shoulder. They seemed joined at the hip—when one turned, so did the other; when one stampeded, so did the other. I imagine they’re sisters.

March

Hosted the Fourth Annual Campout—the one where we usually, two out of three years, get sleet. This year, we did not; the weather was great! But I swore I saw foal movement on Cody’s flank, and I just knew she was due any day.

We also watched as my 20^th wedding anniversary gift rose from the ashes of that old house up by the road: and brand-spanking-new barn! Four stalls, a tack room, and a feed room, 12-foot center aisle. Absolutely beautiful. We had a builder put it up, but we finished the inside.

April

I gave Cavalry his tetanus shot and he did great, considering it’s his very first and my first in about 30 years. Looking back, I also see “potential foaling date” on the calendar. Boy, do I feel dumb. In my defense, I’ve never had a pregnant mare . . . again, more on that coming up!

May

My herd had their first vet visit. Unfortunately, Dr. Dumbass was clueless about working with mustangs. He grabbed a halter and shoved it in Nicky’s face and yes, of course she got scared and swung her butt around at him. He refused to give her or Val their shots, but he did do Cavalry’s. I decided not to proceed with the scheduled gelding, not just because of Dr. D but we’d also had a ton of rain and the mud was a few inches deep.

I also skipped the MWG conference because I was still waiting on a dang foal. Sigh.

We sent the kid off to Copenhagen for a week this month too, with school, for a writers’ conference. He had a great time, would love to go back. I, however, sucked it up and figured it was practice for his July adventure . . .

June

My mom came to visit in June, from Colorado, anxious to see my mustangs. I also made a quick trip to St. Louis to visit friends for dinner and stay overnight.

I figured that dang mare could have her foal without me; on the other hand, she was decidedly looking NOT pregnant. It was about this time I gave up on a foal—after all, the other two females were pretty young, and neither looking like she was expecting. I had four horses, four stalls. Perfect!

July

What a month! First, we sent the kid off to Japan for nearly three months—I talked to him only once, at 50 cents a minute, but we texted every couple days. He was so glad he went. He even climbed Mount Fuji!

Just as we sent him off at the airport and my husband got home, he “happened to mention” that he’d been having chest pains again. Since February. Oy.

So I made him go to the ER, who sent him to St. Louis via ambulance, and he had two more stents put in the same artery as the last two. It was a pretty intense weekend, and if I sound a little blasé about this, it’s because we’ve gone through it before and, well, it was a few months ago now . . .

August

Still going through the pregnant/not thing with Cody, and I got word that another horse from the Virginia Range, who’d been adopted in northern Missouri, needed a home. I won’t go into details, but I saw her picture and felt so very bad for her.

She arrived here on the 19^th. Pregnant.

As I write this, she’s due any minute. Any. Minute.

Her name is Virginia Range’s Hallelujah Charm.

September

September is the month for the annual Camp Cedarledge staff reunion, and of course I went. Fantastic weekend camping with some great women! It’s also when the kid finally came back to the US and stayed with us for a week before moving to Texas.

It’s also when we decided to build a cabin near the house, for occasional guests, the kids visiting, or, based on July’s events, if one of us needed someone to live on-site for a little extra help around the farm. Just like the barn, we had someone build it, but we’re finishing the inside.

So, now it’s October—time flies. Today, my studly little man-colt is getting gelded. High time, too, since he seems to think the herd is his personal harem! I’m working on a number of projects, besides finishing the cabin—we spent a couple days laying tile in the front room. I’m also winding down business for Rocking Horse Publishing, since we’re closing December 31—it’s been a good ride, but I’m done.

There’s always something to do around the farm, and sometimes it’s hard to step back and take a break for a minute or two. One of these days, we’ll have that time! And now I’ll leave you with some current pictures of the herd: