barefoot horses

Yesterday I stopped in the middle of my horseback ride to have a conversation with a fellow in town who trains, shows, and sells Tennessee Walking Horses.

My horse, Blue, has a tendency to become impatient if I stop and visit with someone while sitting astride him. He's liable to paw the ground, or even turn his head around and act like he's going to bite my booted toe (it's only an act). He wants to get on with the ride.

But he knows a horse-lover when he sees one. The whole time I was chatting with Dale, Blue had his face as close to him as possible, almost against his chest. He was relaxed and smiling (of COURSE horses smile). Dale, typically, was talking to him and petting him occasionally (and asking if I'd take $1,000 for him, because he knows I won't sell; I told him last year I wouldn't even take $10,000).

Then the horse-guy bent down and scrutinized Blue's unshod feet, and my heart sank, because this man is often critical of my lack of horse knowledge and I figured a lecture was forthcoming; Blue hasn't worn shoes since last fall.

"Bring him forward a step," he commanded. I did so, and braced myself for a tongue-lashing.

But no. He was quite impressed at Blue's feet which for two years prior to this had been chipping and breaking, with shoes on.

I explained to him how I had taken advice from an Internet friend who knows horses; she had assured me that Blue's hooves would toughen up eventually, if I rode him barefoot awhile.

"Well, she told you right. I've got two I'm letting go barefoot myself. Those feet look good! Of course, you're still using that supplement in his feed, right?"

Uh oh.

"No." (The stuff costs $70 a bucket, and didn't seem to help a bit.)

"Oh my, get him back on that immediately, and be sure and put Hoof-flex on his feet a couple times a week!"

OK, I have to remember with whom I am dealing. I am making a mental note, next time he asks, to lie. "Oh, of course I'm giving him the supplement and putting Hoof-flex on his feet."

Does that sound convincing?

Let's see, what are some other areas I'll need to tell stories about. Oh yeah, this man thinks you ought to give horses lots of grain, twice a day. The horse experts I follow say horses don't need much grain, if any. Mark Rashid thinks overfeeding of grain is one of the main causes of horses misbehaving.

The only way to get along with some folks is to lie. And get along I must, if I want to pick this man's brain later on.

The trouble is, I'm not proficient at lying. Wish me luck.

Beautiful day

What a great day! We took our morning walk without freezing, slipping or sliding; even the mud in the pasture is drying up. I ponied Libby, then rode Blue. When I got back from my ride, I saw Cliff working on some electric fence. You see, he is going to have a garden. (Picture me rolling my eyes here.)

For at least twenty-five years of married life, I put out huge gardens and canned dozens, even hundreds, of jars of produce. I loved doing it.

Once the kids left home, though, I found those canned goods tended to stay in the basement unused, and I'd find packaged peas and okra in the freezer from five years earlier. I scaled down, and finally stopped canning anything but tomatoes; I had a job by then, and I was just too tired to mess with a garden when I got home in the evening. With only two of us, I found it made better economic sense to buy stuff from the store as I needed it. Besides, raising veggies just wasn't fun any more.

So I was down to nothing but tomatoes and a few pepper plants. Blight sneaked in one year. I started moving to fresh ground each year, but blight would appear; later than before, perhaps, but I was never free of it.

So last year I called it quits. And we pretty much went the whole year without tasting a decent tomato.

A couple of months ago I saw Cliff in the horse lot, plowing up a section.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"I'm going to have a garden," he answered.

I know his trick. He figures he'll get me interested, and he'll be off the hook. It's happened before.

So while I was helping him with the electric fence, I told him in no uncertain terms, "I'm NOT canning anything, unless we manage to raise some tomatoes."

"No, I don't expect you to; I just want some good food again once in awhile... green beans and new potatoes, peas, and some decent tomatoes... stuff like that."

Good luck with that blight problem, Cliff. Or maybe I should wish myself good luck.