Work Wednesday—Mustangs!


Well, Cody and Cav have been here a week now and have adjusted very well. They aren’t really in bad condition, at least, not as bad as I was prepared for. Cody, especially, needs her feet trimmed, but they’re more rugged—as one would expect for a wild horse—than overgrown or injured. Neither are particularly underweight, but are always hungry.

Chestnut, our visitor, was super excited to meet other horses—she’d been sharing a pasture with a few cows for a couple years—and she followed little Cav around like a puppy. Of course, she nipped him when he got a little too familiar with her nose, but other than that, they get along pretty well.

Funniest thing is that now, watching Cav take naps, Chestnut will too! Almost every day, within feet of Cav. Cody doesn’t seem bothered by their friendship; in a wild herd, all the horses watch out for the foals and, of course, let them know if they get out of hand. Gently, of course—foals can get away with a lot!

Cav has a very expressive face. He’s taken hay from me several times now, and yesterday I got to touch his little nose. He didn’t run or even step backwards, but jerked his head a little bit and his eyes got huge! Later in the day, he came SO CLOSE to taking a sugar cube from me, but not quite . . . he did follow me around the pasture while I was cleaning up. Once, when a forkful of manure and straw flew in his line of sight, he skedaddled pretty quick for a few steps. Came right back, though.

He also loves the mineral block—and my poor cedar trees are taking a beating from his scratching!

I put Chestnut in the south section of the pasture for a few hours yesterday. She’s such a pet that she’d be all over me for treats, and she tends to herd the others away so she can get all those treats for herself. When we took her over there a couple days ago for some work, she freaked out and could only think of getting back to her posse—even if she does bully them at feeding time. So for now she’ll go in that other section for a few hours a day until she stops being buddy sour.

Cody is a bit of an enigma. She’s very alert and will watch me until she realizes that whatever I’m doing isn’t a threat, and then she’ll go back to grazing. She’ll come close, almost within arm’s reach, but that’s about it, except for twice now she’s let me hand her some hay.

The first time, a couple of my fingers inadvertently went into her mouth, and we were both surprised—no harm done; other being startled a bit, we’re both okay with it. J

When I brought in our old squeaky wheelbarrow, Cody was very, very interested. She stood and watched me all the way from the house to the gate. I had a handful of hay left in the back of the truck, so I gave her that, but when she realized there wasn’t actually food in the squeaky thing, she wandered off.

But not too far. She had to keep coming back to check!

So I cleaned up the quarter section where we drop hay, although I’m rotating it around the area, and by the gate; Cody kindly left a fresh pile as I was leaving the pasture . . . And I cleaned out the shed. Later today, I’ll go get some proper tools and finish up the rest.

Wilson, our Maine Coon, has now met Cody. He’d been used to wandering around the pasture while we were fencing, and until Chestnut arrived. The first few times he went outside after the whole herd got here, he’d stop and stare for a while, on the deck, where he was “safe.” Yesterday, he went into the pasture while I was out there . . .

Cody was closest to him, and saw him right away. She paused for a hot second, then made her way over to him. I believe he thought he was invisible, but she quickly changed his mind. She put her nose down to him and chuffed a couple times while he flattened himself and made a pitiful mew. She decided he wasn’t going to hurt her, and ambled away.

Wilson, on the other hand, went under the fence like he was shot out of a cannon. He ran about ten yards toward the house, then saw me and came back inside the pasture—but he stayed close to me! Then, of course, he discovered manure . . . A little bit later, while I was cleaning the shed, he’d made himself a nest right in the center of all the straw.

He did meet Cav, too. Cav is fascinated with this fuzzy creature, but Wilson’s not so sure about it yet. He didn’t run, but Cav didn’t put his nose on him either, like Cody did!

I’ll leave you with a few pictures; sorry there aren’t more yet—but I’m still old-school enough to live in the moment and not have to document every second. Besides, I’ve kinda got my hands full here!

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Work Wednesday—The Mustang Saga


As you already know, a few weeks ago I found out about four herds of wild mustangs that were endangered: starving, neglected, and headed for auction if they weren’t adopted. It was suggested that you adopt at least two, so I applied for a mare and a foal. I was approved, and finally arranged transportation for them.

They arrived last night.

Freezing cold, around 23 degrees, but clear, with a nice full moon. Jerry, of Pegasus Equine, pulled his giant rig through the gates around 10:00 p.m. In order to unload mine, he first had to bring down two others.

And one, I swear, was The Black Stallion. You know, of Walter Farley fame? My absolute dream horse, and I finally, finally got to see him! Okay, sure, I know it wasn’t him, but still . . . he had a high old time, calling to the neighbors’ mares across the road; and they were sure answering him!

Then, at last, my two came off the trailer. I am pleased to introduce Catnip’s Christmas Cody and her colt, Catnip’s Comanche Cavalry:

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They ambled through the pasture, grazing a bit, and I gave them hay and water. Chestnut, our visiting horse, paced back and forth along the cross-fence, probably all night.

I finally went to bed around midnight, but still couldn’t sleep—I see a nap coming on this afternoon, if I can tear myself away from the windows!

This morning, still 23 degrees, I put out more hay and refilled their water bucket and gave Chestnut her grain and hay. Broke the ice on the water trough too, naturally. After the requisite thawing and a little more coffee, I went back outside.

Both Cody and Cav watched me as I went into their pasture; earlier, they’d approached within 10-12 feet—of course, I was carrying an armload of hay. Chestnut was looking over the fence, but no longer pacing, so I fed her a carrot and opened the gate. She ambled on through, glanced at the others, and started nibbling on grass.

Cody and Cav stared at that gate for a minute, listening to Chestnut but not looking around at all, then they walked on through to the north pasture. After a minute or so, Chestnut followed them and I walked back over and shut the gate.

They found the hay, then the water trough; Cav seems partial to the mineral block. Chestnut is enamored with Cav—she follows him around, they’ve touched noses a few times, and once, apparently, he gave her a little nip because she quickly put him in his place. Cody looked up at his squeal as if to say, “Knock it off, you two!” and went back to her hay.

They’re moving around as a group now, just a couple hours after being in the same pasture. Cav is having lunch; or maybe it’s his third breakfast . . . and, as you can see, Cody is making herself at home:

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