Warning ~ this post is not for the faint of heart or those of you who are sympathetic animal lovers. It discusses certain subjects that can bring about sadness, tears and make you want to eat lots of chocolate and take naps to avoid yourself and the world. That is what I am going to be doing during and after this post.
Responsible Animal 'Ownership'
First, I must say that I don't feel like I 'own' my animals. Most assuredly they think they rule my house and own the chair I like to sit on and, begrudgingly, vacate it so I can sit down and let them drape all over me. I use that term because, well, it's the one that is mostly used and clearly defines my responsibility. I own my car, I pay for the gas, I get the oil changed when it needs it and give it a tune up or new tires when necessary. Similar to my animals. When they need something - their shots, deworming, food, baths, trips to the vets - it is what I do. They are under my care and I do care for all of them.
Now for the hard part. Get your box of kleenex and a trash can and sit it beside you.
I am NOT a morning person. For those of you that know me, I rarely, without good reason, like to creak my way out of bed in the morning, stumble down the stairs and fumble my way through making the first pot of coffee for the day. If coffee is made (thanks Cameron!!) then my world is already looking up. I like to putter around the house, feed the dogs, let them out, feed the horses and chickens and let them out, check my favorite blogs, get something to eat for breakfast, read my email, all before I start responding to phone calls or emails or talking to anyone. Not that I am necessarily a bear, just a slow, quite starter.
This Monday morning, however, I am awake before the phone rings at 8 am. Its the backhoe guy. Telling me he can be here in 1/2 an hour to excavate a hole in the field.
Tommy took a turn for the worse late Friday afternoon. He must have stepped wrong or just over extended his bad leg. He's been on stall rest all weekend but he is in serious pain and unable to hardly put any weight on his front leg. His rear hock is also very swollen and he's spending most of his time lying down.
My second call was to the vet to make arrangements to have him euthanized.
I was worried I wouldn't know when it was time. That I wouldn't be able to tell when I was keeping him here more for me than for him. There is no question as to that decision now. Even with an overabundance of Bute (horse aspirin) he's in serious pain.
I've been rotating the boys in the stall next to him so he won't be lonely. I'm giving him all kinds of treats. I've stopped going in the stall with him as I am afraid if he falls he will pin me between him and the wall/floor. He's that unstable.
So, if you think that getting up Monday morning, early, to make plans to euthanize your horse doesn't ruin your week, then add to that you have to get up early Tuesday morning to have the vet come to do the required medical intervention.
And my boss is gone this week on vacation. Good for her! She works hard. She is such a sweetie. I know she's planning on going to the beach at least two days. It might be a blessing in disguise that I have to work on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. At least it will keep me busy and get me out of the house. It will keep my mind occupied.
My heart is breaking. Tommy was my rescue last year. He was doing so very good. Then the reoccurring lameness. The good news is that he gained back all his weight and had a wonderful year filled with love, clean stalls and plenty to eat. The bad news is that he gained a whole bunch of weight which aggravated the condition in his legs.
I will take one last picture of him tomorrow morning, eating grass, enjoying the sunshine. He is only 14 years old. Way too short a life to have it end this way. At least I am comforted by the fact that he was happy. He was fed. He was loved and groomed and fed treats. He got to enjoy a large stall with clean shavings and plenty of fresh, cool water. Lots of hay. He became greedy for affection and scratches and pushed everyone else out of the way to receive the most attention. He got to be a happy horse.
So, now, he will lay out in the pasture, under Shiloh's favorite napping tree, company with Shiloh, Aba, Chris, Buddy and Elias. I can see them all, together, running through green grass, no pain, no worries, the wind in their manes...
Can't stand it any more... headed for a nap to dream of happy times and to rest my arms from running wire for the new kitchen yesterday and cleaning up the manure pile this morning.
:'(
Monday, August 2, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Andy and Amos...
Here's Andy, singing for his supper...
Here's Amos, thinking he's a kitten... lol
Sitting on the back of the couch, watching the construction on the new kitchen....
Supervising my husband, Mike...
Here's Amos, thinking he's a kitten... lol
Sitting on the back of the couch, watching the construction on the new kitchen....
Supervising my husband, Mike...
Friday, July 30, 2010
Open mouth, insert foot.. heel... calf... knee...
Hmmm. I'm quite sure I said I was full and couldn't take on any more at this time. That was why we got Yurik. To take care of that 'I need to have a new animal to care for thing...' and figured a kitten would have the least impact on the household. Yeah, sure, whatever.
Enter Amos and Andy. Two pug boys rescued from wandering the streets of New York. They were kindly taken in by Hedy in NJ after they passed their 'do not pass go' day. Sweet boys, around 6 to 8 years of age, their only offense is that they were dumped by uncaring human beings. They are emaciated. OMG skinny. Sores between their toes. Rotten teeth in their mouths. All their 'manliness' hanging out there for the world to see. Sores on their feet and bottoms. They look just like and act just like the dogs we get directly from the puppy mills. These boys are nothing but skin and bones.
So, in a moment of sadness (I was headed to a friends memorial in Connecticut) and lack of response from any other group that was willing to take them in for their lengthy rehabilitation, I loaded a large dog crate and cried my way to the memorial. The memorial was special and I bawled my eyes out. Poor Stephanie. I was a wreck when I met up with her to pick up the boys. So much so that she walked around her car and gave me a huge hug. Thanks, Stephanie, it was just what I needed. Then the boys got out of her car. It has been a long time since I have seen a dog that thin. These poor boys. They are definitely in desperate need of a dental and neutering. And a bath. (And not necessarily in that order.)
So, back to my house we went, me still crying. Not only for my friend Richard (who we lost) or his wife, Beth, but now for these poor pug boys, too.
So, off to my house, did introductions (everything was fine!!!) and let everyone out in the fenced in back yard to mark to their hearts content. Then the introduction to a belly band!
If I would ever have been able to read an animals mind, I would have that night. Andy was the more outgoing of the two. Andy walked up to the couch, sniffed the side of it, turned, lifted his leg, did his business and then turned back around. Amos did the same thing. I swear, they looked at each other in bewilderment that it wasn't dripping and smelling, so they turned and repeated the process again. Then they looked at each other, more bewildered! Then they kinda turned their backs, scratched the floor with their back feet and walked off. I almost fell out of my chair laughing at them.
After their baths they became much more pleasant smelling. They still need dentals. Phew.. and they definitely still need neutering, but, with the assistance of the belly bands, they seem to be marking less and less in the house every day.
(For those of you that don't know, a belly band is a piece of cloth - usually held on with velcro - which is placed around their abdomen and a sanitary pad is between the belly band and the belly. That way, if they lift their leg to pee, it gets trapped in the sanitary pad and not on the couch, floor or wall. They don't like the wet feeling on them and it helps - most of the time - to break them from marking indoors.) Andy usually has to change his 'pad' a few times a day, but Amos has been dry almost from the second day he was here.
They have become quite content, sleeping with Maggie, my other pug, or finding out that the couch is a comfy place to sleep. Sometimes, it is the towels in the laundry room that get their snuggle time. They don't seem to be as bonded as I first thought as Andy chooses to sleep in the crate at night on his pillow and Amos sleeps with Maggie on her bed.
Their sores are gone on their toes. They have fur growing back on their legs. They have come out of their shells. They do LOVE feeding time. If they hear any crinkling bag, they beeline right for the person who has the bag and woof at you until you are all done eating. lol They sure do love their meals!!!
Andy is the more vocal of the two. If the water bowl is empty, he will woof at it until someone comes to fill it. If the food bowls are left on the floor he will stand over it and woof, trying to convince someone, I suppose, that they haven't been fed in so very long and will someone please come a feed them now. He woofs if you walk out the door. He woofs if you walk in the door. He woofs if the phone rings. If he isn't woofing, he's licking your legs. If he would do that all day (and was a bit taller) I would never have to take another shower again. lol
It is a bit interesting cooking dinner. We wade through the pack to get to the fridge and Amos, Andy and Yurik all climb into the fridge together. It's quite hard, sometimes, to find what you are looking for. They love to help. Then you wade back through the kitchen to find a knife in the drawer, wade back to the stove, Andy woofing the whole while, just to be sure that you know he is there in case something, please make something, fall so they can scarf it up.... and while you sit at the kitchen table, eating, he's standing there, woofing and licking your legs, just to be sure that you don't miss the fact that he might, just might, be able to clean up anything you might possibly drop.
They have gained 3 pounds in the last 2 weeks. I have been feeding them three small/medium meals a day. Lots of hugs and snuggles. They will now come up on the couch with us and ask for pats and hugs. Adorable. Throwaways. People do most definitely suck. Glad Amos and Andy got another chance. At the good life!
Enter Amos and Andy. Two pug boys rescued from wandering the streets of New York. They were kindly taken in by Hedy in NJ after they passed their 'do not pass go' day. Sweet boys, around 6 to 8 years of age, their only offense is that they were dumped by uncaring human beings. They are emaciated. OMG skinny. Sores between their toes. Rotten teeth in their mouths. All their 'manliness' hanging out there for the world to see. Sores on their feet and bottoms. They look just like and act just like the dogs we get directly from the puppy mills. These boys are nothing but skin and bones.
So, in a moment of sadness (I was headed to a friends memorial in Connecticut) and lack of response from any other group that was willing to take them in for their lengthy rehabilitation, I loaded a large dog crate and cried my way to the memorial. The memorial was special and I bawled my eyes out. Poor Stephanie. I was a wreck when I met up with her to pick up the boys. So much so that she walked around her car and gave me a huge hug. Thanks, Stephanie, it was just what I needed. Then the boys got out of her car. It has been a long time since I have seen a dog that thin. These poor boys. They are definitely in desperate need of a dental and neutering. And a bath. (And not necessarily in that order.)
So, back to my house we went, me still crying. Not only for my friend Richard (who we lost) or his wife, Beth, but now for these poor pug boys, too.
So, off to my house, did introductions (everything was fine!!!) and let everyone out in the fenced in back yard to mark to their hearts content. Then the introduction to a belly band!
If I would ever have been able to read an animals mind, I would have that night. Andy was the more outgoing of the two. Andy walked up to the couch, sniffed the side of it, turned, lifted his leg, did his business and then turned back around. Amos did the same thing. I swear, they looked at each other in bewilderment that it wasn't dripping and smelling, so they turned and repeated the process again. Then they looked at each other, more bewildered! Then they kinda turned their backs, scratched the floor with their back feet and walked off. I almost fell out of my chair laughing at them.
After their baths they became much more pleasant smelling. They still need dentals. Phew.. and they definitely still need neutering, but, with the assistance of the belly bands, they seem to be marking less and less in the house every day.
(For those of you that don't know, a belly band is a piece of cloth - usually held on with velcro - which is placed around their abdomen and a sanitary pad is between the belly band and the belly. That way, if they lift their leg to pee, it gets trapped in the sanitary pad and not on the couch, floor or wall. They don't like the wet feeling on them and it helps - most of the time - to break them from marking indoors.) Andy usually has to change his 'pad' a few times a day, but Amos has been dry almost from the second day he was here.
They have become quite content, sleeping with Maggie, my other pug, or finding out that the couch is a comfy place to sleep. Sometimes, it is the towels in the laundry room that get their snuggle time. They don't seem to be as bonded as I first thought as Andy chooses to sleep in the crate at night on his pillow and Amos sleeps with Maggie on her bed.
Their sores are gone on their toes. They have fur growing back on their legs. They have come out of their shells. They do LOVE feeding time. If they hear any crinkling bag, they beeline right for the person who has the bag and woof at you until you are all done eating. lol They sure do love their meals!!!
Andy is the more vocal of the two. If the water bowl is empty, he will woof at it until someone comes to fill it. If the food bowls are left on the floor he will stand over it and woof, trying to convince someone, I suppose, that they haven't been fed in so very long and will someone please come a feed them now. He woofs if you walk out the door. He woofs if you walk in the door. He woofs if the phone rings. If he isn't woofing, he's licking your legs. If he would do that all day (and was a bit taller) I would never have to take another shower again. lol
It is a bit interesting cooking dinner. We wade through the pack to get to the fridge and Amos, Andy and Yurik all climb into the fridge together. It's quite hard, sometimes, to find what you are looking for. They love to help. Then you wade back through the kitchen to find a knife in the drawer, wade back to the stove, Andy woofing the whole while, just to be sure that you know he is there in case something, please make something, fall so they can scarf it up.... and while you sit at the kitchen table, eating, he's standing there, woofing and licking your legs, just to be sure that you don't miss the fact that he might, just might, be able to clean up anything you might possibly drop.
They have gained 3 pounds in the last 2 weeks. I have been feeding them three small/medium meals a day. Lots of hugs and snuggles. They will now come up on the couch with us and ask for pats and hugs. Adorable. Throwaways. People do most definitely suck. Glad Amos and Andy got another chance. At the good life!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Hippotherapy
hhhmmm. The first time I heard about this, I though - therapy with hippos'???? What in the world will they come up with next. Nope. Nothing to do with water, either.
Hippotherapy " is a physical, occupational or speech and language therapy treatment strategy that utilizes equine movement. Hippotherapy literally means "treatment with the help of the horse" from the Greek word 'hippos,' meaning horse. Specially trained physical and occupational therapists use this treatment for clients with movement dysfunction. In hippotherapy, the horse influences the client rather than the client controlling the horse. The client is positioned on the horse and actively responds to his movement. The therapist directs the movement of the horse; analyzes the clients responses; and adjusts the treatment accordingly. This strategy is used as part of an integrated treatment program to achieve functional outcomes. " (whew... what a mouthful!)
Why the Horse? The horses' walk provides sensory input through movement, which is variable, rhythmic and repetitive. The resultant movement responses in the patient are similar to human movement patterns of the pelvis when walking. (and the description continues on in more dictionary/medical terminology).
They even have an Association that specifically relates to all aspects of this therapy....
American Hippotherapy Association, Inc. (AHA Inc.) promotes the use of the movement of the horse as a treatment strategy in physical, occupational and speech-language therapy sessions for people living with disabilities. http://www.americanhippotherapyassociation.org/
Imagine that. I thought that maybe it was named that because someone looked like a hippo lying on the back of a horse???? Who was watching me flounder around on the back of my horse a while back??? Was it YOU!????!??! Hiding in the bushes???
I certainly know that I don't need a dictionary, or a therapistfor that matter, to convince me of the therapeutic properties of a horse. Not only does my back always feel better after going for a ride on my horse, but my spirits are lifted, I breathe easier and I always have a feeling of contentment when I get done with a ride.
Some nights, just being able to stick my nose into my horses neck, comb his mane or brush his body as he is munching on his hay, all settled into his clean stall for the night, is enough to help me shed the tension and emotional exhaustion that life normally brings into my days and weeks.
A warm, sunny afternoon, in the field, with my arms wrapped around their neck, my nose wishes it could bottle the scent of fresh, warm horse, fly spray and grass that immediately puts a smile on my face.
When my wonderful therapist, who I love, gets done putting my brain on it's weekly puree cycle, there is nothing quite like barn chores to help you sort through shit while you sort through shit, if you know what I mean. I sleep well at night after hearing the contented nickers, the munching of hay and night noises as the geldings settle in the barn, happy and safe.
For a time, about seven years ago, when things were very, very bad, and I was in and out of the hospital over a 4 month period of time, it was my horses who kept me going. The girls will grow up (blessedly) and move on (and out) with their lives. My husband has his work and his love of hunting. My horses were there every morning, whinnying for me to come feed them breakfast and let them out to pasture. That is what got me out of bed. My morab, Aba, would bang his foot on his stall door until I would drag my butt out of bed and get up to let them out.
There is never judgement. They never, once, didn't come to greet me when I went out to see them, no matter what time of the day or night. They didn't care if I was still in my pajamas. They didn't care if my hair had been combed or my teeth brushed. They just knew I needed them to lean on, to brush, to talk to. They never offered their opinions. They knew how to hug. They couldn't tell others what I had told them. They can't be subpoenaed. They don't lie. They always listen carefully and never interrupt. They were there for me just as I was there to care for them.
There is never a more honored feeling to have than knowing that your horse trusts you and cares for you, that he will carry you on his back, keeping you safe, watching out for your well being. There have been few things in my life that give me that feeling. And once you have felt it, you want to feel it all the time.
If this does't make you want to go right out and get a horse of your very own, then I don't know what will! My dogs do the same thing for me. And so do the cats. But horses are my first choice (after my husband and my girls. OK. Sometimes even before my husband and my girls...).
You should try it some time. Visit a local barn. Try brushing a rescue horse. Help with stall cleaning and throw some hay in the loft. But the caution is this - once you get going, it's darn near impossible to stop.... :)
Hippotherapy " is a physical, occupational or speech and language therapy treatment strategy that utilizes equine movement. Hippotherapy literally means "treatment with the help of the horse" from the Greek word 'hippos,' meaning horse. Specially trained physical and occupational therapists use this treatment for clients with movement dysfunction. In hippotherapy, the horse influences the client rather than the client controlling the horse. The client is positioned on the horse and actively responds to his movement. The therapist directs the movement of the horse; analyzes the clients responses; and adjusts the treatment accordingly. This strategy is used as part of an integrated treatment program to achieve functional outcomes. " (whew... what a mouthful!)
Why the Horse? The horses' walk provides sensory input through movement, which is variable, rhythmic and repetitive. The resultant movement responses in the patient are similar to human movement patterns of the pelvis when walking. (and the description continues on in more dictionary/medical terminology).
They even have an Association that specifically relates to all aspects of this therapy....
American Hippotherapy Association, Inc. (AHA Inc.) promotes the use of the movement of the horse as a treatment strategy in physical, occupational and speech-language therapy sessions for people living with disabilities. http://www.americanhippotherapyassociation.org/
Imagine that. I thought that maybe it was named that because someone looked like a hippo lying on the back of a horse???? Who was watching me flounder around on the back of my horse a while back??? Was it YOU!????!??! Hiding in the bushes???
I certainly know that I don't need a dictionary, or a therapistfor that matter, to convince me of the therapeutic properties of a horse. Not only does my back always feel better after going for a ride on my horse, but my spirits are lifted, I breathe easier and I always have a feeling of contentment when I get done with a ride.
Some nights, just being able to stick my nose into my horses neck, comb his mane or brush his body as he is munching on his hay, all settled into his clean stall for the night, is enough to help me shed the tension and emotional exhaustion that life normally brings into my days and weeks.
A warm, sunny afternoon, in the field, with my arms wrapped around their neck, my nose wishes it could bottle the scent of fresh, warm horse, fly spray and grass that immediately puts a smile on my face.
When my wonderful therapist, who I love, gets done putting my brain on it's weekly puree cycle, there is nothing quite like barn chores to help you sort through shit while you sort through shit, if you know what I mean. I sleep well at night after hearing the contented nickers, the munching of hay and night noises as the geldings settle in the barn, happy and safe.
For a time, about seven years ago, when things were very, very bad, and I was in and out of the hospital over a 4 month period of time, it was my horses who kept me going. The girls will grow up (blessedly) and move on (and out) with their lives. My husband has his work and his love of hunting. My horses were there every morning, whinnying for me to come feed them breakfast and let them out to pasture. That is what got me out of bed. My morab, Aba, would bang his foot on his stall door until I would drag my butt out of bed and get up to let them out.
There is never judgement. They never, once, didn't come to greet me when I went out to see them, no matter what time of the day or night. They didn't care if I was still in my pajamas. They didn't care if my hair had been combed or my teeth brushed. They just knew I needed them to lean on, to brush, to talk to. They never offered their opinions. They knew how to hug. They couldn't tell others what I had told them. They can't be subpoenaed. They don't lie. They always listen carefully and never interrupt. They were there for me just as I was there to care for them.
There is never a more honored feeling to have than knowing that your horse trusts you and cares for you, that he will carry you on his back, keeping you safe, watching out for your well being. There have been few things in my life that give me that feeling. And once you have felt it, you want to feel it all the time.
If this does't make you want to go right out and get a horse of your very own, then I don't know what will! My dogs do the same thing for me. And so do the cats. But horses are my first choice (after my husband and my girls. OK. Sometimes even before my husband and my girls...).
You should try it some time. Visit a local barn. Try brushing a rescue horse. Help with stall cleaning and throw some hay in the loft. But the caution is this - once you get going, it's darn near impossible to stop.... :)
Just one of those days....
Woke up late this morning - like 1 1/2 hours late. My tailbone is killing me. I missed my morning appointment. It rained, it poured buckets. I'm tired. I need to go to bed. My tailbone is killing me. I worked an extra hour at work. Emma had a soccer game (they won, 3 to 2). The kitten won't stop climbing on the computer keyboard. And I still need to go out in the barn and clean stalls and fill water buckets before I can go to bed. And my tailbone is killing me. Blah, blah, blah...
I injured myself about 10 years ago. I tore all the muscle off one side of my tailbone. It was absolute torture. It took about 6 weeks before I could actually go from sitting down to standing up (or vice versa) without feeling like I was going to pass out or throw up from the pain.
It's bbbaaaacccckkkk. I don't know what I did last night, but when I woke up this morning I couldn't even get out of bed. And today, working at the library, getting up and down to the copier, the books, the check out desk... ohy, vey.
So, now I'm headed out to do barn chores. In the rain. :( I just want to sit down and cry.
Talking about crying, I have a funeral to go to this weekend. A very good friend of mine found her soul mate. They are both older in life, having been college sweethearts and then going their separate ways, only to find each other and that romantic spark, again....
Then he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. And he beat it. Got a clean bill of health. Got married :) and at his 6 week follow up was diagnosed with cancer in the liver (if I remember correctly). They gave him 4 to 6 months to live. He lived almost a year after that. He just passed away last weekend.
I've been humbled by many, many things in my life, but when R and his wife, B, wanted to come to our monthly cookout - as one thing he wanted to cross of his 'bucket list' - I was overwhelmed and honored.
It was a wonderful cookout. And, not knowing, we even had his favorite dessert, strawberry shortcake. He was gone less than two weeks later. I wanted to stop by and see them the week after the cookout, but I just couldn't make myself stop. I've been to too many funerals already this year. I really can't do another one. But I will. Because B was there for me and my girls when I went through a difficult time a few years ago. Because even though R didn't know me very well, he was always inquiring about how I was, how things were going, encouraging me, treating me as if I were a long lost friend that he truly cared about. Caring about me, my family, my animals, my girls... and truly sharing his love, life and self with my friend B.
R will be missed. I still can't believe he's gone. I'm so glad he is no longer in pain or suffering, but am so sorry for the loss for B.
Ok. Now if I go out to do barn chores in the rain, no one will know if it is rain or tears running down my face. Off to snuggle with my equine shoulders to cry on.
I injured myself about 10 years ago. I tore all the muscle off one side of my tailbone. It was absolute torture. It took about 6 weeks before I could actually go from sitting down to standing up (or vice versa) without feeling like I was going to pass out or throw up from the pain.
It's bbbaaaacccckkkk. I don't know what I did last night, but when I woke up this morning I couldn't even get out of bed. And today, working at the library, getting up and down to the copier, the books, the check out desk... ohy, vey.
So, now I'm headed out to do barn chores. In the rain. :( I just want to sit down and cry.
Talking about crying, I have a funeral to go to this weekend. A very good friend of mine found her soul mate. They are both older in life, having been college sweethearts and then going their separate ways, only to find each other and that romantic spark, again....
Then he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. And he beat it. Got a clean bill of health. Got married :) and at his 6 week follow up was diagnosed with cancer in the liver (if I remember correctly). They gave him 4 to 6 months to live. He lived almost a year after that. He just passed away last weekend.
I've been humbled by many, many things in my life, but when R and his wife, B, wanted to come to our monthly cookout - as one thing he wanted to cross of his 'bucket list' - I was overwhelmed and honored.
It was a wonderful cookout. And, not knowing, we even had his favorite dessert, strawberry shortcake. He was gone less than two weeks later. I wanted to stop by and see them the week after the cookout, but I just couldn't make myself stop. I've been to too many funerals already this year. I really can't do another one. But I will. Because B was there for me and my girls when I went through a difficult time a few years ago. Because even though R didn't know me very well, he was always inquiring about how I was, how things were going, encouraging me, treating me as if I were a long lost friend that he truly cared about. Caring about me, my family, my animals, my girls... and truly sharing his love, life and self with my friend B.
R will be missed. I still can't believe he's gone. I'm so glad he is no longer in pain or suffering, but am so sorry for the loss for B.
Ok. Now if I go out to do barn chores in the rain, no one will know if it is rain or tears running down my face. Off to snuggle with my equine shoulders to cry on.
Horse "Training" at its very WORST, Parelli style
I did not see what I just saw. I'm literally sick to my stomach. I was catching up on my blog visits and, once again, Cathy at http://www.fugly.com/ delivers. There is a YouTube link of Pat Parelli "training" (and you don't know just how loosely I use that term) a horse named Catwalk at the Royal Festival of the Horse in England.
This poor horse. This is not training, it's pure out and out abuse. The lady who did the YouTube clip said she was so upset by this that she walked out after a short while but this abuse went on for TWO hours. In front of an audience.
Now, I don't know about anyone else, but if I had my name associated anywhere with the Parelli's, it certainly wouldn't be any more.
Shame on them. Not only do they do a great disservice for all true horse trainers in America, but in the world. If I were a 'horse trainer' I wouldn't be announcing that too loudly these days.
If I had a horse in training, you best be damn sure I would be on my way to visit my horse at the trainers and camping out for a few days watching them work - not only with my horse but with a few other peoples as well.
Shame on you, Pat & Linda Parelli. You should apologize. Not only to the horse (he should be allowed to kick both of you in the head) but also the horses owner, Robert Whitaker. This horse is going to take years - even if it is at all possible - of patient, gentle, consistent work to get over the abuse and trauma you inflicted upon him.
You should apologize to every single person in that audience. You should explain to them that you are inadequate and incapable of training a horse in a humane, gentle, non-forceful way.
Eeeewww. You just both make me want to puke. You both are so very lucky that this horse had a slightly more sane brain in his head than the two of you and didn't explode on the both of you and kick the ever loving crap out you.
If you think I'm over doing it, go to YouTube and search for Catwalk and Parelli. I will warn you that if you have any sense of compassion for animals at all, you will have trouble watching this.
This poor horse. This is not training, it's pure out and out abuse. The lady who did the YouTube clip said she was so upset by this that she walked out after a short while but this abuse went on for TWO hours. In front of an audience.
Now, I don't know about anyone else, but if I had my name associated anywhere with the Parelli's, it certainly wouldn't be any more.
Shame on them. Not only do they do a great disservice for all true horse trainers in America, but in the world. If I were a 'horse trainer' I wouldn't be announcing that too loudly these days.
If I had a horse in training, you best be damn sure I would be on my way to visit my horse at the trainers and camping out for a few days watching them work - not only with my horse but with a few other peoples as well.
Shame on you, Pat & Linda Parelli. You should apologize. Not only to the horse (he should be allowed to kick both of you in the head) but also the horses owner, Robert Whitaker. This horse is going to take years - even if it is at all possible - of patient, gentle, consistent work to get over the abuse and trauma you inflicted upon him.
You should apologize to every single person in that audience. You should explain to them that you are inadequate and incapable of training a horse in a humane, gentle, non-forceful way.
Eeeewww. You just both make me want to puke. You both are so very lucky that this horse had a slightly more sane brain in his head than the two of you and didn't explode on the both of you and kick the ever loving crap out you.
If you think I'm over doing it, go to YouTube and search for Catwalk and Parelli. I will warn you that if you have any sense of compassion for animals at all, you will have trouble watching this.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Must have been the heat.
It must have been the building heat from the last 10 days that finally put me over the edge yesterday. It's been building for a while. At least the pool is up. How many days do you think it took 3,500 gallons of bone chilling well water to heat up to the point that it was very comfortable when Mike and I went in it tonight to soak away all the heat? Three days. Yep. That was all. The water temperature was in the high 80's when we went in it late this afternoon. Soaking and visiting and absorbing the cool, not to cool water. Bliss. Something to remember six months from now when I are cursing the cold, bitter winter snow and ice.
So I was reading through another blog www.fugly.com who calls it like it is in the horse world (even names names and gives people a big old helping of her usually right on opinion) and I came across another blog that specifically relates to something near and dear to my heart - Craigslist.com... it's where I find the listings for New England Horses under $800 that get posted on http://missyshopeerr.freehostia.com - I've posted about Brandi here before and the work that she does trying to link horses in need of new homes with people looking for horses. She also does Chey/Annie Project For Slings for Horses.
So, anyways, when my insomnia rears its ugly head (and truly, he is an ugly beast that doesn't seem to be able to be completely tamed) I found this new blog.... http://clhorseads.blogspot.com The Worst of CL Horse For Sale Ads. I did a little more digging and found her other blog http://FaraeTailDreamsArt.blogspot.com and found out her name was Beth from Phoenix, Arizona where she does some awesome things with dragons, sculptures and re-models horses!!
AAAANNNNNNDDDD! when I sent her copies of the post that set me off on the tyrannical rant that I posted yesterday, she referenced me in the posting that went on her blog!! SO, Beth, thanks for the spot on your blog and here's a spot for you on mine!!!
I will continue to send you Craigslist ads that drive me crazy about the horse world. There truly are some people out there that shouldn't have a drivers license, be able to breed - themselves or anything else - and should probably just jump off the nearest cliff to be smashed to bits by sharp rocks and drift out to sea to feed the fishes.
So, back to reading blogs and searching the craigslist ads for Brandi to post on her site... it's so nice creating work for other people (grin).. I know Brandi would be lost if I didn't send her more work to do, what with her 4 children under the age of 9 and moving in just a couple of weeks into their very own house! Congratulations!
I've been working on another post and another rant, but need to review and edit before I hit the publish button. Need to keep all the Is' dotted and the Ts' crossed.
Keep cool. Hang out in a nice cold room. Drink a nice drink with plenty of ice in it. Relax in the shade. Don't burn in the sun. More to come....
So I was reading through another blog www.fugly.com who calls it like it is in the horse world (even names names and gives people a big old helping of her usually right on opinion) and I came across another blog that specifically relates to something near and dear to my heart - Craigslist.com... it's where I find the listings for New England Horses under $800 that get posted on http://missyshopeerr.freehostia.com - I've posted about Brandi here before and the work that she does trying to link horses in need of new homes with people looking for horses. She also does Chey/Annie Project For Slings for Horses.
So, anyways, when my insomnia rears its ugly head (and truly, he is an ugly beast that doesn't seem to be able to be completely tamed) I found this new blog.... http://clhorseads.blogspot.com The Worst of CL Horse For Sale Ads. I did a little more digging and found her other blog http://FaraeTailDreamsArt.blogspot.com and found out her name was Beth from Phoenix, Arizona where she does some awesome things with dragons, sculptures and re-models horses!!
AAAANNNNNNDDDD! when I sent her copies of the post that set me off on the tyrannical rant that I posted yesterday, she referenced me in the posting that went on her blog!! SO, Beth, thanks for the spot on your blog and here's a spot for you on mine!!!
I will continue to send you Craigslist ads that drive me crazy about the horse world. There truly are some people out there that shouldn't have a drivers license, be able to breed - themselves or anything else - and should probably just jump off the nearest cliff to be smashed to bits by sharp rocks and drift out to sea to feed the fishes.
So, back to reading blogs and searching the craigslist ads for Brandi to post on her site... it's so nice creating work for other people (grin).. I know Brandi would be lost if I didn't send her more work to do, what with her 4 children under the age of 9 and moving in just a couple of weeks into their very own house! Congratulations!
I've been working on another post and another rant, but need to review and edit before I hit the publish button. Need to keep all the Is' dotted and the Ts' crossed.
Keep cool. Hang out in a nice cold room. Drink a nice drink with plenty of ice in it. Relax in the shade. Don't burn in the sun. More to come....
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