And then there were none.

Proudly Canadian Butch & Blaze-Dog Worshiper!

My horse stories have sure waxed and waned, haven't they? I often thought horses were placed just far enough out of my reach to keep me permanently hyper. Then I found out I am hyper-thyroid. Well, why didn't somebody say something sooner? No WondeR! It all fits more tidily together, I can knit my seams tidy and true. Close them up, as it were. Trouble is, I've not been thinking about horses much, too much else to do.

Winter is um, tiring. I have to keep the girls busy, or I pay the price of bored herding dog squared. I would rather slog through snow-drifts, thank you:)

Tangenting..
Reading about how anesthetics had their beginnings when I was getting the "new" anesthetics (I was 3 years old, happened again for tonsils), piques my interest too. What do we Do to our brains? What DiD we do? What ArE we doing? Fascinating to me, as a closet epidemiologist of the human bug.

Okay, okay, horses. Pick up a real rag of a horse magazine, and read about how you can BuY "Wild Mustangs!" On-Line!

Horses are in between that rock and that hard place, in today's world, huh. You can't deny owning one is "luxury", even if you're living the life of a pauper to own him. If he's your pet, and you can afford him, awesome. But I am still so surprised by this advent of the back-yard pasture-puff-pet being a viable alternative for anyone wanting to ride, in this day and age. It's even tacitly encouraged, isn't it, on some of the forums I've read. "Light riding sound." What does that Mean? Support your local vet, is how it reads to me, but I'm overtly cynical some days.

Horses, even the miniatures, are horses. Big enough to hurt you, expensive enough to bankrupt you, if you're unlucky, or unwary, or unwise. I just want to plead, think carefully, those who dream of owning that first horse! Better to ride several schoolies/lease sale horses at different barns for several years, than to yield to that terrible urgency to save one, to own one. To love one. They of course deserve it.

But you, as the rider, owe it to the future horse you will own, to learn to ride as well as you can, first, and to learn the ways and wiles of horse-keeping, from the professionals. First. Just my opin-onion, don't shoot me.

This has been a public service announcement on the NotSoSwift "Let's get Some Good Horsemanship Training On-Line" Channel.

Further broadcasts must be moderaluated.

Or whizzed on, depending on the mood:)

This made me laugh:)


This one, too:)

Rocks and Harder Places

Like the END of Febbbbbbbruary!!
In Toronto....

Some of my many Favourite Ents.
Looking kinda dour, aren't they? I don't blame them a bit, they watched a LOT of chain-sawing last year.


The Ents Neigbours

Not exactly chain-sawing, sorry. Just Logging, for no purpose. NONE.

I'm just waiting on a snow-plow. My (0.5km) driveway's eastern dip had sprouted snow drifts taller than my car's roof. FredCar wasn't designed for tunneling. I'm facing west, as the storm masses over the Niagara Escarpment. Wind blowing straight from the north. I've backed into my neighbour's driveway, to stay out of the way of the plow, due within the next hour(s). I'm pretttY grumpy. Thanks, husband. Way to listen.


One of my favourite rocks..
Rock's in the wrong place, in my grumpy opinion, but I don't operate the tractors around here, so. Is Rock grinning/winking at you?


I'm waffling on auditing the master clinic tomorrow. Long drive, late at night, I don't do this well.
Why can't clinics be day-timed? Can't they think about the old crones once in a while?? I got a notice from Toronto CADORA about a strangles outbreak, and the barn is going to be off-limits to everybody.
So, I can't even go in and smell the barn. There's a strangles outbreak? Och, poor horses, horrible disease, lost my chestnut...

See!! I mention my chestnut, and BAM. Strangles. Horses make me feel guilty, and I'm not even near one! Oh, they are all around me. I just won't go near them. Horse people are with them.
They scare the crap out of me.

Not YOU guys! Jeeesh, pay attention, I'm generalizing again.
Annoying habit, I know.
I pulled my guilt post, and realized what I'd typed. Not YOU. Still editing that mother.

Okay, this is blithering idiot ramble number one. To be continued. The whale post got the comments I was looking for, thanks you all!

It's like BHM's question about abuse, and what do you do?

Abuse is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it. I've watched a bit more of some (relatively) new worshiped dressage guru. He's truly not any different... He doesn't DO roll-cure. Um, his horses do indeed drop behind the vertical. Usually just as he turns away from the camera. Good timing there:)
Oh, NOOOOOO.
I'm not SAYing he's not brilliant. I'm saying we have the self-same brilliance in trainers, right here in Canada. Too bad we don't know it.

Tragedy in Florida

Made more tragic by the witness reports.
12,000 pounds of mammal.

Horses are 1/10th that weight. Imagine that.
To The Trainer's Family.

General Specifics

I am generally a literal generalist, making broad sweeping statements. Please remember this happens with just about everything I type. I call it gestalting.
A generalization Is, for goodness sakes! They are NEVER entirely true, for anything. That's called specificity.
I nominated myself to General, just yesterday:)
Not literally, though. Hah.


On to more interesting animal thoughts.
Well, to Me, anyway. Pooor Flip, she's a tummy dog, and she's determined to be the best darn tummy dog she can be. Here's the latest symptoms, for your veterinary interest. Or not.

Y'all should be proud of me, my BFF buddy, the veterinarian on constant call for me, wasn't even shown a stool sample of my Flip, when she came to visit last week. How polite am I?? I hadn't seen her in almost two years, so, I graciously avoided any Flip tummy talk. But you guys get to hear it all, lucky You!
Or not.

Our latest excursion to the vet entailed a fasting x-ray, and again, as usual, my wonderful vets raised their eyebrows and exclaimed over Flip's one normal sized kidney, and one teensy-bitsy kidney. Flip is, of course, unusual.

I get that a lot, with my animals. Vet sez: Oh, I've never seen this before! And the eyebrows would go up.

I should charge admission to my vet appointments, really:) My tragic horse, my chestnut TB with two old bows, was euthed for purpura hemoragic.. something. I forget now, I blocked it out. This was thirty-four years ago. Same expression from the vet. OH, I've never seen this! Yeah, fine. You are very welcome.
Or not:)

I did a paper on penicillin in university, using what I learned about purpura from my poor tragic chestnut. Oh, man, handsome horse. I have to keep him buried though. He was the start of my cycle out of hell. I honestly don't even remember riding him. He was 16.2, bright solid copper, one star between his eyes, just a picture of correctness, with the bright eyes you look for. Tragically dulled by strangles, and the terrible sequel that can happen. (If you have no luck in horses, like >moi<.)

Enough of him, though. Too many memories I'd rather not rewind.

His loss forced me to accept my start of a life less horsed. I still taught, but I went back to school, and moved back home.
Thanks, Mom.

sniffle, sniffle. Hey, It's still f ebbb ruary, ya know. Sunshine hasn't been in abundance around here.

Oh, and in a fit of petulance, I hereby post my funny farmer tale.
Prairie Farmer didn't notice, I hope:)
I'm Kidding, I realized I've got some FF tales, might as well use 'em.

My husband got stuck one late, raw, frozen corn harvesting day. He'd managed to get his truck stuck, and came home in the tractor, in the foulest of tempers. I couldn't blame him, he never got stuck. The land had been cruel that year, frozen slush on top of rain on top of heavy snow/rain. The sequel was triple digit freezing wind-chills.

Fields were not fun to get to. His big heavy 4x4 F350 with the fuel truck in the back was well and soundly stuck, breaking through a massive "surprise!" pond between two fields. Anyway, home he comes in the tractor, so that I can help. Me, useless city girl, throwing her hands up at checking for oil. I'd driven exactly one tractor at this point in my life, poorly, at a stable I'd mucked at, for one summer. Vast experience in operating machinery, I do not have. I am a very good driver. Just make sure I have a road.

We're driving south, down "our" gravel country road. It's a few days before Christmas. It's about 20 below Celcius. As we rumble down the road in his medium big John Deere, me sitting on the wheel "bump", comfy/warm/listening to music, we see a man walking up the road, towards us.

He's wearing just a pair of cowboy boots, skin-tight jeans, and a fall season plaid jacket. Bare chest. Tall, skinny guy. He's tacking to and fro a bit. Heading north, with a bit of east west thrown in. Twelve sheets to four winds, he was. Skinny guy's just north of another of my husband's (leased) crop fields. He waves, and we stop.

Turns out, skinny guy'd driven his 88 Camaro into this field, waaaaaaay in the back, with his brightly dressed (shall we say kindly) girlfriend, to steal a tree. Recently deep-plowed field. Heavy clay. Car was so not happy. It was rather rutted. The guy had no suspension/exhaust pipe thingies left after husband came back to tow him out.

You see, once husband had realized what this guy was about, he'd decided to go and get his own truck pulled out first, and come back and tow the guy, after. First things first, ya know. So, we left the guy to wait in his warm car (& brightly clad girlfriend), until husband was done with his own stucked-ness.

This is my embarrassing part. Husband & tractor get the truck out of the pond he'd crunched through, with me driving the truck. I just steered, sort of, and clasped my hands firmly on the wheel, while husband gesticulated madly at me out the back window of his tractor cab.. Next, I was to drive the tractor out of the field, with him in the truck. ahem..

Logic being, the tractor wouldn't get stuck, even with me driving it. I was to meet him on the side of the road, just outside the field, facing north. My heart was racing madly as I crept, I mean CREPT, out of the field, this kind of horsepower wasn't something I'd ever craved, ya know?? Did I mention I've never driven a stick shift?
(I used to have nightmares about driving stick-shifts.)
No worries, and we make it to the road.

So, here I am, on the side of the road facing north, road slopes south. Husband pulls up behind me. I can't seem to get the tractor to stand still, it keeps rollllling back. Towards the truck. I keep telling it to go forward, and stop, but it will not stop. It goes back. I feel panic building. Mercifully, husband had parked far enough behind me. Smart guy. He leaped in and hit wherever the hell the brake was, just a few inches from the front bumper of his truck.

My nerves were justabit frazzled, husband laughed it off, and off we went.

I drove the truck home, and he went and towed out the tree thief. That tree cost the skinny guy all he had in his wallet. $20.00. Oh, and the bottom of his loooow car. He'll never know how lucky he was, nor how cheaply he got off.

Husband and I were lucky, too, of course. Trucks are expensive:)

Horsie blathering will return to this same bat time, bat channel.
Here's a picture of me teaching, in 1983. I'm making the kid laugh, and my next hour's student,too. No Idea what I'm saying, but I'm glad mostly everyone is smiling, especially RainyPony:)



Oh, now I remember! I was congratulating him on his ride over this fence..

Rainy had given him that flying feeling, and he'd grinned, reporting how way cool it was. Tim. Heck of a good rider, one of the ones I really hated "abandoning". He was a great kid, naturally smart with good instincts. He'd been hurried & scared at his previous barns, but with me, and my policies of no seat, no jump, Tim really became a sharp little rider. Wonder what ever happened to him.
I was forever "assuming positions" when I taught. See? Your body is ready to jump, from this position, no matter what happens!
sigh.

To great kids, and great Rainy Ponies..


Oh, and WOW, I watched the AHAA Scottsdale feed, as much as I could. It kept cutting out for the jumping:(
I want the buckskin that won the Gambler's. Truck him on down, will ya? Make a nice addition to my back-porch.

I just saw the Costume Class. First one I've seen in 40+ years. There were more horses in the class back then:)
Tack fail. Jeeesh.
Way, way cool to watch!

Sign this, please?

Okay, guys, I never do this..
But please, go to this site, and sign the petition. It's getting crazier out there. The now-disgraced Tim Trow of the THS kept Bandit alive, after the dog put 200 stitches into a child's face, and refused the owner's request to have the dog euthed.

BUT, Brampton AC can stalk these two dogs, and determine they should die, because of how they look. These dogs have harmed no-one, and are beloved PETS.
Sign the Petition!!

My dogs could be next, or yours. Stay out of Brampton, people with good dogs.


This is a joke. Right?? Right? Sorry if you've already seen it. I justabout, well, it wasn't pretty.


Scream Worthy. Outrage worthy. Fear and Loathing, Shocked and Appalled worthy.
I thought it couldn't get any worse. Could that mare's coat be any stark starier????????
aggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It must be a joke, right?
Please, tell me this was a joke.
Please?

Deeep breaths & PatrickSwayze

Deeeep Cleansing Breaths..
I've managed to open what I consider an interesting can of my very own worms. As I was watching, sorry reading your exzellent comments, I realized something, and of course, it is sooo obvious. To Me, anyway. I am weird, though.

What does this post have to do with Patrick Swayze? You, of course, have seen his movie with Jennifer Grey, who really should have left her nose alone.
That "dirty" dancing, chiquitas. Can you do that? Honestly? If you Can'T, learn how.

If it hurts? Well, it depends on how "much" it hurts. Be careful, do not over do anything. Without suppleness, there is No sitting the trot. You "must" be as supple as you can, and again, be careful, backs are funny things. If you can't, for various entirely valid reasons, take heart, all is not lost. See my previous "Posting" post:)

Part of the problem with women trying to sit, is the "must be supple" part. To some women I know, that translates to "tighten up". Trying, too, hard. Hey, it's Patrick, enjoy! Over-thinking is kinda rampant in our poor brains. Well, SOMEone has to, men sure don't seem to be doing much.

Now, here comes the hard part, no snickering. Can you dance like that with a partner? It absolutely DependS on that partner, doesn't it? If you are not in synch, you are in serious danger of losing a knee-cap or two. An eye. When you're in the saddle, the danger is to far more private parts. And not so privates too, of course;)

To Live is to Ride, to ride is to live.
Hey, posting's hard enough! When I first clambered back on a schoolie, when was that? Too many years ago, I couldn't believe that my body had forgotten about posting. Hadn't I been practicing my riding fitness, all my older life, in order to keep myself, well, duh, riding fit???

It was funny as hell for me. Here I was, struggling with what I had NeveR struggled with before. Didn't help that I was on Raven, the immovable western pleasure horse, who had sized up how many cigarettes I had also stupidly smoked. (yeah, well, you try getting foaled out in the 50's.)What rhythm? He's not moving! Raven knew I had not enough lungs. Smart critter. But, yeah, it was fun. My instructor helpfully suggested posting every other stride, and that helped kick start my stupid (smacks legs) muscle memory.

Sitting was actually easier! Why? Because I still had my memory of the big bay, telling me what to do.
In everything you do. Stand, sit, straight, proud, natural. Do not cross legs. Flex heeels down. Open up, then relax, the back and inside muscles of your legs. Calm, assertive calm.
This is where you can just simply remember that. And sitting happens. It does. Don't make it happen. LET IT HAPPEN. Gravity and Patrick Swayze will do the rest.

Try Not to think. Turn your chittering monkey brain, off. How, you beg? Pretend your horse is Patrick Swayze, or whatever else floats your boat. Within reason, please, this is a family blog. Do giggle, though, or not, whatever, frickin' have fun, and don't be embarrassed. It's just normal behaviour, alrrighty?? Dancing has many, many forms, ya know. I may have to rant, again. I think I've ranted this before, draT!!!

I finally coagulated a GL-NotSoSwift-pseudo brilliant point to make about BHM's Vertical Post.
I'd also like to address the latest decree by the FEI, and try, once again, to clearly state where I'm at, with roll-curing. This might become VERY oblique, hang on tight, it's really contorted in here.

tangent..Drives me crazy when I see the word verticle, try ventricle, hmmmmm? It's not spelled horizontle, either, btw. Jeez, the spelling police would have a field day.
ANYway, it's been fermenting for some time, this brilliantly useless notion I had. I know, everyone else knows this, but maybe it needs typed again.

Maybe I'm channeling for Chaz, shown here doing his disappearing act.


HE was "roll-cured", in my strictest sense, because he had learned how to evade the bit, and run through any sort of attempt to control him. It took a long time to re-school this mistake.
I'll wager a zillion bucks it was just poor timing and lousy judgement on the rider's part, at the time. You see, it finally hit me.

Of course, it restricts a horse's forward motion, the act of chin to chest. It makes good physiological sense to slow down if you can't breathe deeply when you need to. It DOES restrict forward motion, for that very reason, first. If release always follows, the horse learns how to relax and breathe in this position. This is according to my vet.
IF IT IS "FORCED", and/or "locked", THAT is abuse. And, sadly, it happens all the time. Across the multi-discipline board. The first thing any young horse wants is to go somewhere, anywhere. That's what they do. If that isn't encouraged, first, you'll end with a sulky, balky or psycho horse.

I'd love to see some necropsy reports, before I would pass judgement on the lone vet's findings. I searched, and I've read the articles. You see, the FEI very basically said, if the hyperflexion is not locked, you're okay.
EVERY single excellent dressage rider I've ever seen released, after bringing in the nose. Every, single, one.

I spoke with my veterinarian friend about the FEI findings, briefly. Basically, if the horse is allowed to relax, the issue isn't one of abuse. That's what the FEI is saying.

Look at this picture.


Or this one.


If you see abuse, you seriously need your eyes examined. Not because the pictures are blurry, either.

A horse, willingly placing his head/heart/soul in your hands, will be relaxed, and WILL BE ABLE TO BREATHE, in any position you ask of him, within obvious reasons, that also depend on the horse's actual build..
A horse that is forced, and abused, and stressed and locked into this position (or any position for that matter), is NOT able to breathe properly. And indeed, becomes a difficult, if not psychotic ride.

That just makes the most sense to me. But as we alll know, I do live under a rock.
With thermal mineral springs. sigh.

Happy Valentines Day!

Go Canada, GO JENNIFER HEIL!!!!!!

DustyFrogsAndDogHair

Allways gets me down...
Here's a note to the marketing people of the world. I would LOVE a shampoo that says, right on the plastic, "removes dirt from hair". That's ALL I want in my first shampoo. I don't need a 'poo that will improve my social life. I have a helluva time finding the first "strip the tar off" shampoo. Hey, I work in the city. Herbal Essence UseD to make a good one. Changed the formula. sigh...

Why is this relevant? Oh, well, it isn't really. Just a thought I had. Oh, right, about dirt. Our weird, odd, strange aversion to dirt. Like everything else not clean in life, from ourselves, to our animals. We really do not know much about either, it seems.

It's always made me chuckle a bit. I knew a woman who very sadly passed from breast cancer. She loved animals, and had always had a cat. The cat didn't use a litter box, and went outside to do her business. Cool cat. Anyway, my old red dog loved this woman dearly, as I did. (Not the cat, but that's because the cat never liked ANYone, but this woman.)

I asked the woman if Red Dog could visit, later in her battle. She said she preferred that old Red Dog stayed away, as dogs were dirty. This woman was a bit of a "clean" type. She had white cloth furniture in her living room, which always terrified me. Anyway, it saddened me a bit that RedDog wouldn't be able to say goodbye. And brings me to my point.

There is such a thing as Too Clean. We are all imminently, ultimately bio-degradable, so I don't always understand the huge deal behind killing every microbe possible in your home, with chemicals I know aren't exactly eco-friendly. Like Febreze. I know youze guys LOVE it. It made my lungs burn, immediately. I'd rather have a bit of dirt. I feel healthier, knowing I can fight it. MySelf.
Hey, I am NOT against clean! Just...

NeveR MinD:)

Oh, this will cheer up the gray day. Here's an example of pre-clean, in my house. My camera always shows me stuff I haven't seen, the artful dog hair, and the aura of dust around the "white" background. Artistic, yes?

Posting TrrrrrrrrrrrrroT!

For heavens sakes, dressage riders of the world, you have to remember something.
It's really, REALLY important. You cannot START out riding dressage. You must, must MUST learn how to ride "normally", FIRST!

I would be hearing the outraged cries from the DQ's, right about now, if any of them actually read here. Fortunately, they do not, so I'm relatively safe.

I STARTED riding dressage, exclusively! Look how great I am!!
Name me ONE rider that's true for.
One great rider, who started in dressage, and stayed in dressage. Never rode nothin' else.
I'll wait. Yeah, I thought so.
I've said ThaT before, too, ad frickin' nauseated. Ride lots of different types of horses, and lots of styles of riding and ... and Then specialize. Or not. Trail riding is a specialization, too, ya know.

I watched a very capable rider on a young horse tonight. The more I watched, the more I thought, "For Heaven's SAKES!!"

POST THAT DAMNED TROT!! Why are you bouncing all over the young horse's back, instead of softly rising/falling with the trot? Just, WHY? It's freezing cold where this rider was, and I totally get that. I get the video nerves, too. BUT. That makes my point even more obvious, I hope.

Sitting the trot, is....
HARD!!!! For horse and rider, both! When it's absolute zero in the arena, here's another suggestion. Use a warm quarter sheet or cooler, for loosening up. At the walk, and then at the trot. A quarter sheet, y'all know what that is? Just a super big loin coverer, really. When it's cold enough to freeze the schnot in your nose before it drips, it's time to keep the old buns warm as you warm/loosen up. Both of you will benefit from some help in the warmth department.

You fortunate milder climes people are snickering. Yeah, well, piffle.

The other point of my post remains the same. Do not try too hard, too fast, to ride "dressage". Ride the horse first, get him broke and going forward and straight. I think all young horses should be broke to do a hack class, first. jmo.

The dressidge assumption seems to be that you NeveR post, it's just not cool to post, you must SIT.
No, you must NoT. ESPECIALLY with a young cold greenie!

There was another problem I had with the video I watched. TOO much wrangling the neck around, not enough encouraging of the horse to just lighten up and get on with it.
See, this is another pet peeve of mine. Look at how much I've bent Tad's head/neck here, for this right turn.


Not very much, yes? Do NOT twist/pull/force the horse's head around!! Teeny tiny bends, to start. The emphasis, with any young horse, should be "go straight, go forward". Asking them for a LOT of twist/turn of the neck just confuses them, in my cranky old opinion.
As BHM describes in her great post about the Vertical line we "all" aspire to, the more important part is that the horse remains comfortable, in whatever carriage he is in. An older, more flexible, more educated and balanced horse can acquiesce to his riders demands. The young horse is still building the muscles that will carry you in comfort, for him.
Don't stress those muscles beyond what they can bear.

OH, and that's the other thing. Dressage and Straight Legs. It makes me NUTso. Doesn't anybody know how incredibly hard it is to ride with a totally straight leg?? That is NOT the "correct" leg position, in dressage, anyway.
No, it is NOT. The longer your leg, the deeper your seat, and the better you better be ABLE to sit. If you're bouncing your kidneys out your nose, lean back, and grab the pommel, and looooosen your hips into the movement. But do NOT do it for too long, on the young horse, or with the beginning rider.

The Posting Trot is the gateway to sitting. There is NO shame in posting a trot! The posting trot introduces you both gently, to the rhythmic metronome your body is learning to follow. If you can't post, your stirrups are TOO long.

With the young horse, sitting the trot should be reserved for corners and turns, at first, and only gingerly/gently/kindly should you sit. If you can't, don't! You are HEAVY up there! Not you personally. The horse thinks so, is all.

Here's a dressage rider, from years ago. Look at the angle in his leg.



Again, with the young horse, posting can teach them different stride lengths, by your own encouragement to lengthen the beat time. Shortening the beat time is for the sitting trot, and it is hard, and don't do it too much.

Basic Starting Point Stirrup Length, for ANY discipline.
Everybody should know this, it's in every Practical Horseman George Morris critique I've ever read. Here it is, anyway. The lowest the bottom of your stirrup iron should EVER be, is just below your ankle bone. It can shorten from there, but it never goes longer.
EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

deeeeep breath.
Okay, I feel better. rant button has been switched to simmer.

Thanks for letting me vent, y'all. And thanks for the inspiration, Most Capable Rider! Stop trying so hard! Relax, who CARES, you are riding, enJOY.

Shadows of Details

Mr. DriveWay Coyote.
Going the correct direction, away from me, on my arrival home.
Thank you!


Covered in Flight.

On our daily frozen jaunt, I watched in awe as a flock of small black/white/tan birds drew flowing scripts of motion just above the ground, and curlicued up into the air, again disappearing. They are there. I can't see them either. I could see them moving. They chittered in disgust at my earth-bound frame, futilely trying to help the camera find and focus on them.

It was like trying to find/stop wind, with a net. After a few completely useless pictures, I just kept snapping. I StiLL don't know what they are, for sure. Some bird watcher, I am. They might be Snow Buntings, I had never seen them until the land was cleared of tree-lines/windbreaks/sigh, these past few years.
Here's another random shot, to prove they were there. Really.
(Hadn't found the movie button yet, m'kay??)


Here's my "Temple Grandin" HBO Movie Review.
****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
You get the idea.

I cried through much of it, oh, Temple talks like me. I've heard her speak, and Clare Danes does a beautiful job of her clipped, blurted, almost exasperated speech. The acting is wonderful. How Temple thinks is captured in ways that I see.

My pictures have been so quiet lately, though.
It's an amazing movie, about a truly amazing person, who changed how I felt about myself. Reading of others' experiences can be life-altering.
I so, so get Temple. I only wish more would.
Half of all slaughter facilities in the US & Canada use her designs. She's not perfectly happy with them, of course, and mentions in her "Animals Make Us Human" book that design changes without her direction were terribly frustrating for her. Tiny details make huge differences to the animals.

Humans are getting worse and worse and worse at details, you see. Many just don't see the difference, or understand the detail's function. Who needs 'em??

Animals live/thrive on details. In a manner of speaking.
I don't mean tail-cropping;)

Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. Animals have nothing else to do, but remember the details of their lives. We spend half our time deleting ours.

postscripted tangent..
I have a new Practical Horseman to read, oh, BOY! Man, they are getting thin. I was amaZed to see their last month's breeding issue, showcasing (gasp) the most popular breeds in the USofA.
You'll never GUESS who they were, but they weren't Irish Sport Horses. The times sure are changing.

february?

I raise you FrisBee!


I float you flower!


I frost you shivers.


I trotted Tad!


Oh, sorry, off kilter tangent. There I am again, practicing rolled-curing. Poor Tad. At this point, I'd used the looose-side rein "breaking" method. I'd found he was very well-cornered, as HP has described. He had pretty equal balance in himself, from the start.
I personally find it kind of creepy now, the hype and the absolute position people are taking on roll-curing, with no real knowledge of what it takes to get any horse to any stage.
Of course, abuse is bad. That sure hasn't changed, and it's out there, in all the horse sports.

kestrel's in Georgia, rehabbing two terribly abused pony mares. Heartbreaking to read of the scars on the outside, and the fear locked up on the inside, of a creature that would never actually mean to hurt you, if she could help it. How we love to terrify easily frightened creatures!
yuck.
Ponies Upon Arrival at kestrels' sisters'.(smacks fingers for probably improper punctuation.)


Three Weeks Later.


Frickin' people. Not YOU people. THOSE people. Trouble is, those people do not and never will realize how cruelly they damage and scar these honest creatures. For what?
pah. To the end of abuse in all of it's actual forms, and the end of attacking a rider trotting her horse. Like me.

Why do you think we call it f EBB ruary?

I just need some warm sun, like now.

Canadian Dressage results are certainly encouraging.