Progress

I found Dreamer in the pasture today in a position I don`t often find her.

I actually thought she was dead.

You see, Dreamer is never in a relaxed state.  She`s the cautious one.  The one always on her guard.  She`s the one I mentioned before who has trust issues.  We haven`t caught her since shortly after she arrived.  She`s broke her halter and since then, there is no getting near her.  So I am very surprised to seeing her in such a relaxed state.

I approach quietly but she turns at the sound of snow crunching beneath my foot and sits upright at the sight of me.

But surprise, surprise, she does not bolt from her spot to the opposite side of the pasture and away from me.  Instead, she watches me in a drowsy state while I take photos of her.

She even had the courage to take her eyes off me and look around.

So I chanced it and moved even closer.

Wow, you have no idea how shocked I am at this point.  She still has not bolted.  Actually, it looked like she might fall back to sleep.

So wanting to push my luck even further, I reached out...and touched her!!!

Yes, that is me touching our wild pony.  All I could think of was that I wished I had a halter on hand.  Nevertheless, I continued to pet her and talk to her gently.  I got up and walked around her taking more photos.

From when we handled her the few short times when she initially arrived, I knew her backside was a sensitive area where she did not like to be touched.  So guess what I did?!  Touched her backside of course!

Yes, I know, it's a bad photo but trust me this is her backside.  Feeling like the bond between us is finally growing, I move around to the front of her again cooing softly.  Then I lost my footing on the terrain, throwing my arm into the air to catch my balance.  It was that movement that finally had Dreamer bolting to her feet.

Though she didn't run off.  She turned and looked at me and I knew without a doubt, that she had been abused in the past.  We had always suspected it, but the swift raising of my arm brought an immediate and alarming reaction from her.  The arrival of the dogs ended any bonding between us as they see miniature horses as playmates ignoring the fact the feeling isn't mutual.  So I call off the dogs and head back up to the gate.

I was pleased to notice Dreamer had actually followed, walking next to me if not by several yards.

As entering the pasture usually means watching the backside of Dreamer head in the opposite direction, I have concluded that we are finally making progress with Dreamer.  She may never be suitable for the petting zoo, but it is definitely rewarding to watch her overcome some of her inner battles.

Cribbing or Chewing?

So, as perfect as Chloe is, we have discovered she has a problem.  She`s a chewer.  She chews on fence posts.

Her stall window.

On the posts in her stall.

I`ve even found her chewing or sucking on the metal bar above her stall door.  At first I thought it was cribbing, so we went to the store and bought her this crib collar (I have since realized that it is not on tight enough and had to make adjustments.)

But after talking to the store clerk there, I thought it might possibly not be cribbing.  Cribbing is when a horse grabs hold of a piece of wood or metal and sucks air in.  It gives them a natural high and is incurable.

However, I wasn`t entirely sure she was sucking or chewing.  It sounds more like she is simply chewing.  Chewing is just as bad as cribbing because it causes a lot of damage to your barn and pasture fences.  Not only that, a horse can accidentally swallow wood splinters which can lead to colic.  And Chloe just recently had a case of colic.  So figured she was chewing and not cribbing.  I believe chewing can be cured.  It is usually caused by boredom, dietary deficiency, or a bad habit.

It is also "contagious" as other horses will see the chewer and decide to try chewing even if the thought had never occurred to them before.  This happened with Chase.  He was never a chewer until we brought a pony to the farm that was a bad chewer and suddenly Chase was chewing.  We sold that pony and the chewing from Chase stopped.  With the arrival of Chloe however, we have started to notice he has started up again.  Mostly when he is confined in small areas. So we try to keep him in the large pasture 24/7.

With Chloe, however, we believe it is simply a bad habit.  We try and keep her also in the large pasture but she had that colic scare recently so she has spent more time in the stall then we would prefer.  However, even in the large pasture where there is plenty of room to roam and other horse's company, she will still find a fence post to chew away at.

So we are starting with the crib collar and seeing if it makes any difference and will be lining her stall with metal covering where the wood is exposed.  If she continues to chew on the metal, then we will coat them in some type of nasty tasting lotion.  Hopefully, we can nip this in the butt and save our beautiful stalls from destruction.

Quotes

I`ve been having so much fun lately with a small project for my daughter`s Facebook business page.  Here, let me share.

All images are copyrighted by the author of Chasing Freedom Farm.

A Farm

The other day I was filling out a 4H membership form.  On the form they asked the question of residence.  Options were a) Farm b) Rural Non-Farm c) Village/Small Town and d) Urban.

Instinctively I checked off Farm.  But I felt a little like a fraud.  A real farmer would laugh in my face.  My little collection of critters is hardly deemed a farm.

My livelihood does not come off the production of livestock or the crops in the adjacent fields.  I do not have to get up at 5am to tend to the animals.  Nor do I have hired hands.  My children are my so-called "hired hands" however, I refer to that as chores rather than work.

My "livestock" all have names rather than production numbers.  I don't even refer to them as livestock but rather as critters instead.  But I won't go so far as calling them pets because in my opinion the term pets refer to an animal that is part of the family.  And I don't keep pets housed in a barn.

True, someday I would like to make some type of profit off the critters but for now I feel more like b) Rural Non-Farm who happens to own livestock for fun rather than profit. There is a term for that and it`s called a Hobby Farm but that was not an option.  Perhaps in the agricultural society, hobby farms are not even recognizable   Are a joke to real farmers who depend on this industry for their livelihood, not as a sport or source of entertainment.

Whatever the case may be I selected a) Farm in the end.  The animals that live with me and depend on me for their well-being fall into the farm animal category.  I muck out stalls and pens, haul manure, trim hooves, provide vaccinations and deworming, build pastures, and work 7 days a week straight.  All without pay, benefits, or holidays.  If that's not farming, I don't know what is.

Fried Mushrooms

It snowed all day yesterday making the roads slick.  Especially the road I live on.

I`m still pulling double duty as a chauffeur as we are still down to one vehicle.  Otherwise, I`d forget going anywhere and enjoy watching the freshly fallen snow from the comforts of home.

As winter driving goes, I`m not a bad driver.  Nearly thirty years of driving and I should be pretty good at it.  Better now with the four-wheel drive on the truck.

So as I pulled onto our road engrossed in my own deep thoughts, I had no worries about the road conditions.  

I turn to the kids and randomly say, "I could eat fried mushrooms for the rest of my life."  

Then like that I lost control of the truck and started spinning out.

My kids started screaming for their lives in the back seat, fearful we`d land in a ditch or worse hit a hydro pole or tree.  Somehow I managed to regain control of the truck and immediately shifted into four-wheel drive and able to get back on the straight and narrow.  The kids started babbling with relief about how close they were to dying (huge exaggeration here) and the only thing I could think of was that my last dying words I`d be remembered for was a declaration of a love of fried-mushrooms.

A Cat in Heat

This post is going to be a little perverted and I warn you a bit pornographic.  You see our barn cat April has gone into heat and at last there is no tomcat around to, um, ease her urges.  Not that her scent and cries for a lover haven`t gone unanswered.  We already discovered a dead tomcat down on the road near our driveway and another lurking near the swamp across from our property.  I`m sure it is only a matter of time before one of them is successful and eventually reach poor April.

I say poor April because this poor cat is in desperate distress.  She wants to get (blank)--excuse my french--so desperately she will resort to any male attention.  Hence the following sequence of photos.  To make matters worse, Harley is an unneutered horn-dog living with a female bitch (excuse my french) in heat and another in impending heat. Without a doubt, he can recognize the signs of a flirting female.  Apparently even in a different species.

She starts off pole dancing with a set of leather reins.

And when that doesn't work, she openly rolls in front of him trying to gain his attention until finally Harley takes notice.  And does what he can to help her out. 

My Version of Mini Pizzas

I do not profess to be a good chef....or a chef at all.  As a matter of fact, I detest cooking.  It is a matter of necessity rather than enjoyment for me.  That said, I do get excited when I find an easy, quick and delicious meal.  And will be more than happy to share here on my blog.

This one I discovered by accident.  My husband loves the original of this recipe which his mother made him for years.  I didn't mind them as they fell into the easy, quick and, well not bad category.  I didn't love them but I could eat them.  Then recently when I made them for my family, I changed up Bambino's recipe slightly because he is such a fussy eater.  When we eat out and order subs, he orders lettuce and tomato sauce only on his bun.  So I decided that was what I would put on his.

The original recipe is simple.  Get a package of hamburger buns, lay them open separately on a cookie sheet, add a slice of processed cheddar cheese and bacon and cook until toasted.  See simple.

Bambino did away with all that and got pizza sauce and lettuce only.  That was when I decided to do a little something different to mine and added my favourite food, mushrooms, and switched the processed cheese to real cheese.

Here it is in a nut shell.

First fry up mushrooms and bacon in a separate pans.  (Tip: frying mushrooms in butter rather than margarine or oil makes them heavenly.)  You can also add onions but I'm not a huge fan.

Once done, lay them over your upturned buns on a cookie sheet.

Garnish with cheese.

Now this last step is really what made the difference between my version and my MIL's version.  As I mentioned earlier, she used processed sliced cheese.  Normally, I enjoy processed cheese.  Actually it is the only cheese I've ate my entire life because you see I hate cheese.  But either we were out of processed cheese or I was in the mood to try something different, I don't recall.  And why I chose this cheese, is even more mind-boggling as the smell of cheese is disgusting to my senses but this one takes the cake.  I nearly threw the bag out it stunk so bad.  This is the bag, the flavour is call Luncheon.

And I can promise you it tastes nothing like it smells once cooked.  Nor smell.  Thank goodness.  Once you have added the cheese, place in oven at 400F until toasty.  Eat alone for lunch or add side dishes with it for supper.  Absolutely delicious.  I crave them all the time.