Riding, I've Gone

This post is justaramble.
Do not expect much coherence today.


My bestest vet friend, now retired, sent me this picture taken during one of her walks. Her Pomeranian alerted her, he's an excellent bear deterrent/detector. He's got a BIG bark. But he knows enough to stick close to Mom and Pop.

I have to mention the "different" methods of horse-keeping. Remember that commenter on COTH? There are "different" methods of animal husbandry.
Here's a good one. It's really different, to me anyway. Maybe I missed that class in horse husbandry, at University.
There are proponents of the "deep litter" system. That means solid manure pack, and then top dressed with insecticide. No exercise is required, and food can be gradually decreased, until the horse needs next to nothing. Horse doesn't want to move much by then, anyway.
Kinda like a chicken, except the chicken is better fed.

The things I learn, that I really didn't want to.

I've taken down many of my posts, for the horse's protection. And mine. I've discovered that many, MANY horse people talk pretty big, but actually do very little. Not you, kindest, lonely reader, sitting in my empty auditorium, my words echoing like...

shivers... Why is truth so hard to believe? And why does the truth of it seem to hang on me like a filthy cloak?

I've been trying to find some silver linings, what else can I do? I can't cry every minute of every day, what a ridiculous waste of time.

Heartbreak helps me to write, it always has. My "sleeping giant", my horse-life memories, were re-kindled by writers with equal passion, and I think, equal anger.

There is a lot to be angry about, these days. The sad danger behind it, is the polarization away from the root of the stupid problems. Too much of a good thing is always a bad thing. Like Enron. British Petroleum.

I'm afraid of my vents. I feel like erupting Iceland, here. Just ready to blast off again into the rageosphere. Realization one, during this last painful two months. My vents are firmly suppressed. Not very healthy.

Realization two. I'm a staunch advocate of humane treatment, but the thought/sight of inhumane treatment can paralyze me. I've done what many have said, I've written cheques, to assuage my own guilt at not doing more. I close my eyes to cruelty, as it is so painful to consider.

Unfortunately, I have a good understanding of the other side of the compassion coin. People that watch/indulge in acts of cruelty, like it. A lot. They enjoy our pro-compassion shudders. They don't feel that pain, as we do. And they never will. That scares the ever-lovin' crap out of me.

My eyes have been forced open to cruelty and neglect, every day I come "home".

I feel like I'm trapped in a continuum of "why it's all gone wrong out there". I'm at the apex of it. Or maybe I'm at the base...
I'm the city girl, trying to help folks understand the country. But my shame of the human race only intensifies as I drive in "my" country driveway.

Okay, I've gone. I had to.
It helps, a teeny bit...

Riding... This is justadream, for me.

We've long-trotted for a bit, I'm marveling at his true straight gait. He likes a firmer contact at the trot, and I quietly explain that I don't. He makes me laugh with his deep groan of "Ohhhhh, but that's a Working TroT"... Trotting is harder for him, with his years of galloping behind him, and we happily swing back into his huge walk. A long rounding walk, for him to catch his breath, and swing his back.

We've been riding, "all over the place", going from the sand ring, out into the field and back, down the driveway. I discover the trail out behind the barn, ask if we may go exploring, and off we set.

The tears are falling again, kind reader. I have to get to work. I cannot answer my phone with this raw, angry pain in my voice and my heart.

Thanks for being there.