Hot, Hot, HOT!

Hey, it's better than constant rain, but it's 8:30 pm and still 90 something degrees F out.

Siaga and I had an awesome evening ride, maybe 40 minutes or so, twice around the corn field (which still isn't planted) and then back on the rode.

He got a little excited around the back of the field the first time, and I saw he still had plenty of energy and was excited to get back to the yard, so I turned him around at the far end, and went the other way. He wasn't too pleased, considering he randomly and without warning tried to bolt, though he didn't take two steps before I lifted the reins (not pull, just barely lifted, mind you) and bam. He stopped. I think I had my jaw on the saddle horn. He's getting better at fast stopping.

Then we were on the rode, and the neighbors' dogs were barking from inside their house, so he walked to the far side of the road, nose tipped to the house, ears up, nostrils wide, muscles tense and ready to spring. And then we passed the pond, and he treated that the same way. It was like he was saying "Is it gonna eat me mom?" And I very sarcastically told him "Yes, Siaga, the pond is just going to rear up and get you. It's going to swallow you whole. Kidding."

Other than that though, it was a wonderful ride. He's moving halfway reliably off of my legs, with only occasional reminders with the rein. He moves to the right better than the left for some reason, though. Hrm.

So little he was!

While looking through stacks of photos for pictures of Grandma, my dad found a picture of me and Siaga, maybe about a month after I got him. Just thought I'd share the tiny, extremely downhill-built beastie with you all.


He was adorable, but not exactly the most attractive colt. I can't believe I ever considered naming him BUSTER and MR. ED! When we got him, he was 'supposed' to be a girl (lol) and I had considered GINGER from Black Beauty. But then there was Siaga. And so Siaga he is. And I'm glad I named him that.... he grew into a name of beauty, to be a horse of beauty.

Gone

Grandma is gone. She's been fighting for a long time. For a year and a half, she's battled lung, liver, brain, and, recently, possibly bone cancer. She's had strokes, and maybe a heart attack.

She left us this morning and we all were aware it was fast approaching. She left in her sleep, and the most beautiful morning, where mist rose over the lake and sun beams filtered through the trees and dew drops glistened everywhere. She left peacefully. She left quickly.

We're all of us sad, but we are all happy that she didn't suffer and that it wasn't slow and long and drawn out.

I was supposed to go to a meeting today at work, but I won't be. I won't be going to work, either. Siaga has extra hay in his stall, since I know I probably won't be around to feed him his lunch. I'm glad I got in a ride yesterday, but I'm wanting to ride again today.

Like that saying goes, the outside of a horse is good for the inside of man. Or woman. But in my case, all of Siaga is good for me. Grooming, working, mucking, medicating, spraying flyspray, three times daily trip up to the barn, and everything else. It's all good for me.

But anyways. She's gone away now, to be where she will be, her Heaven.

Slip n' slide!

Took advantage of the sunshine today. I was going to work Siaga on the road a little at walk and trot, but it became soon clear that he had far too much energy for me to trust him going at a trot down a road with nothing to stop him. So down into the field we went.

It wasn't as muddy as I had thought it would be. I guessed all the wind (which normally makes him spooky) would flip him out, but it didn't bother him too much. Nor did the semi's, tractors, and heavy trucks speeding along at 40-60mph on the main road while we walked the edge of the field, maybe 20 feet away or so.

And though it nearly scared the poop out of me, it also didn't phase him when we both nearly took a tumble. There are a few spots in the field that I've been avoiding because it's been muddy and these places collected water. This wasn't one of them, and I wasn't expecting it to be muddy and the surface looked dry and secure. However, when he stepped out on it, it held, but as his weight shifted all to that foot as he walked on over, it gave way and Siaga slid a couple inches into the mud and nearly fell to his knees. Not sure how I managed to stay on. I grabbed at the saddle horn with my right hand, turned him to the left with the other, and quickly got him on more firm ground. We stopped and I looked back to see if it was like a quick sand patch that I hadn't been aware of, but it just appeared to be a patch of mud in which the top had dried well before the rest of it.

And Siaga? Completely unphased. And then, unphased as we crossed the ditch, too. Overall, a nice ride. Complete with lots of sweat. And sun shine. :D

DAMMIT RAIN

Even though I've kept him inside quite a bit and kept his stall as dry and clean as possible, my horse has (it seems) developed a case of rain rot. Just a little scabby patch on his neck for the time being, and though I'm calling it rain rot, it doesn't really look like his last case, which was many years ago.

It almost looks like a strange, scabby, bubbly, blister. But, he's been in his stall and hasn't come into contact with anything that would sting him or burn him or any poisonous plants or anything. It's very small, the whole patch being nothing more than the diameter of my pinky finger... at the very tip of the finger, too. It's really small.

When I found it last night I was messing around with it, trying to figure out in the low light (at like 10 pm) what it was. I thought at first it was a tick or two there, but it didn't move like a tick would. It's also very sore, judging by the way he laid his ears back and tried to bite my thigh... to which I slapped him away and sent him off to the other side of the stall for.

Anyway, I bought more fly spray today (since I finally ran out) and also a small bottle of Original M-T-G to put on the spots. He also has funky bumps on the insides of his ears that I figured I could wipe a small amount of the mtg on as well.

HAY!

Off to go get hay for my hay-burner tonight.

I've torn into my last bale a few days ago, the one that had suspicious feathers on the outside. Turns out the feathers were from a bird molting in the rafters above, as the feathers were localized to one side and only on the outside. Since there were none inside, I just plucked the feathers out of the edging and gave him the hay.

I'm going to look into the guy's grass hay, so that he won't be getting any alfalfa. Downside is that it does have clover in it, which molds easily. I'll ask if I can get a look on the inside of the hay before I buy a load of it. (A load of hay, to me, consists of about 12-14 bales, because that's all the room for it we have in the barn.)

Anyways. He's not an overly energetic horse as it is, but he is full of attitude. Either way, I think he'll be ok whether I switch him over or not. He's already a pretty calm horse. Well. As calm as one can get for a short horse with little man syndrome...

Training Schedules

I've been thinking a lot about where Siaga -should- be in his training. I mean, if he hadn't have gotten so sick, if I had had help when I was younger, and if I hadn't been so terrified of him in spring time when he would have all this extra energy from not working in the winter time. He and I could be doing what ever we wanted by now. He's in his prime. But no... All those things happened. And because they happened, he's now seven years old, in June, and only green broke. But despite that, he's made amazing progress.

My first ride that I took on him around the front yard here at home, I admit, I was quite nervous. I was afraid that he might decide to give me an impromptu dismount. I was thinking "We'll be trail riding by the end of summer." He's been home for a month and a half. It's not even the end of spring yet, but I've found myself riding him, calmly, happily, around the field, around the woods, in the neighbors woods, over the ditch, down the road.

Despite my first fall, it has been overall uneventful. I know I could have brought him to this point years ago, had he not been so ill in his second year, but he might not have come this far in such a little bit of time. Already, I've started asking him for more, a little each time. I've asked him, each ride, to accept something new that I do from his back. Like spitting from the saddle, in just about any direction. Or talking loudly, laughing, laying forward to avoid branches or to adjust a stirrup. Or moving my arms all around, or patting him on the rump. I've asked him to stand by the creek and do nothing but stand. I've asked him for a trot, and it took him a few seconds at first, but he gave it to me.

I've asked him to always walk up steep hills rather than bound up them, and to pick his way carefully coming down. I find myself riding with relaxed reins and his head relaxed more often than not. And even though he's always paying attention to me and does what I ask, it's rare, unless I say something to him, that he flips an ear back to me. Eh. So long as he is paying attention to me, I guess it doesn't really matter if he doesn't appear to be listening all the time.

When the ground hardens up a bit again, and I don't have to worry about quagmires of mud, I'm going to start working him on a trot more often. I want to have the trot mastered before I ask him to give me that beautiful canter of his again. Despite the circumstances of how that first canter with him came around, I'm excited to ride it again. No. That time, I didn't think of ice cream like I did on Taz. I was far to panicked, though the back of my mind was going "Oh wow.."

Anyways. I know I'm rambling. Rambling in blogform lets me straighten out what's running through my head at any given time.

Also... I really have got to get the farrier out. Like ASAP. ._. *bad horse mom has timing problems while working two jobs*