Last night our neighbor went for a bike ride and came home with a muddy bike. We happened to be outside so he stopped to chat. He mentioned that he'd had a great ride but now had to go home and wash his muddy bike.

He then said that he wished washing his muddy bike was as easy as washing a muddy horse.

I assured him that it was harder for me to wash my muddy horse than it was for him to was his muddy bike.

He then said, "Are you kidding? How do you wash a horse anyway, don't you just run them through the river?"

LOL!

Look at this little deer. I think he thinks he's a horse! I think this is very cute.

We made the horse cake and everyone of them loved it. It looked kind of funny, and we thought they would like the apples and carrots sprinkled on top, but they really loved the cake part too.

Tigger was scared of the plate, so he passed on his first offer.

Maverick ate most of the carrots and apples. After the "toppings" were gone he decided to try the oats, and decided he liked them.

At first Pharaoh tried to take a bite of the paper plate. Then he tried the oats and loved them. He was taking the biggest bites we have ever seen.

Keiki too, loved the oats, but being a girly-girl she took dainty bites, unlike the boys.

Lady seems to prefer her dark blue saddle pad to her light blue saddle pad. Could it be she just likes dark blue better than light?

(She happens to look beautiful in both!) Come to think of it, she looks great in every color!

The pads are identical except for the color. We've examined them closely. There are no differences between the two pads. Here's a cool article about horse vision.

As it turns out, horses can see some color, though not all colors. They may see bright colors better. According to this article, they see grass as "a wishy-washy greenish-grey."

The article also explains why horses sometimes get nervous in windy weather. (I've experienced that more than once!) It's because as pray animals they're always watching for moving things. When it's windy, everything is moving!

Last year I went to a show and learned that one of the training level horses entered in the show was blind in one eye. He completed the stadium course beautifully. I was so impressed by his bravery, knowing that he must have been taking jumps he really couldn't see very well. He must have really trusted his rider.

Another horse was owned by an older guy. They were so cute together. They also showed training, and afterwards he told us that he had rescued his horse a couple of years earlier. When he found the horse she was almost dead. Her previous owners had nearly starved her to death. What an amazing story.

And, before I forget, thank you Amy, for sending me this article!

In my personal experiance I have only had one horse who would eat anytihng that I offered her. Her name was Charlotte and she is a pony that used to be at our barn. Now I am stuck with all of these picky horses who will only eat about five different foods.

My horse Moon loves peppermint and one day on I was at the store I picked out some mints for him, little did I know that they were not the normal flavor of mint but spearmint. I didn't think anything about the flavor when I bought the green mints. I mean mints are mints who cares what flavor they are?

The next day when I took them out to the barn Moon refused to eat them. I was so annoyed, not only would he not eat them but I was stuck with them until I could find someone else's horse who liked the green mints.

I think that the horses should just be happy that they're getting anything different in their bland diets, I know I would.

We live in an area where we are lucky, (or unlucky, as the case may be) to encounter moose quite often when we ride. Usually, our horses get jittery just before we actually see the moose. We've learned to pick up on the clues our horses provide and ready ourselves to see the moose, who is usually just out of sight, around the next bend.

We like to think of our horses a courageous, but when it comes to moose encounters, I'm afraid they're anything but. At the first sign of a moose we still ourselves and our horses, waiting to see just what the moose will do, which is usually nothing. They gaze at us nonchalantly, noting that we are of little or no concern.

In open clearings we make a wide arc around them. They go on eating while our horses fear for their lives. The horses act as thought these Moose were armed with flamethrowers. We're always relieved to pass safely by and glad when the horses calm down a bit.

Recently, the horses did something that we would never suspect.

All five were in the pasture, when a young moose and it's mother came down and stood on the other side of the fence. The duo had the full attention of all five horses. Then, the young moose hopped easily over the fence and into the pasture.

Woah Nelly. Evidently this was something the horses would just not accept. Suddenly, with military-like precision, all five horses started galloping right toward the little moose, who instantly realized he had no desire to take on five horses, and plunged back over the fence to his mom, waiting patiently, seemingly unalarmed, for his return.

Feeling a bit full of themselves, all five horses then bucked and kicked and galloped around the pasture, clearly delighted in their victory. It seems that the home field advantage works for horses too.

Last summer we'd often ask Jeff (Dad) to watch us ride in the arena. He would reluctantly watch as we told him how impressive we were and how entertained he should be.

"Here, watch this flying lead change," we'd yell over to Jeff, standing by the edge of the arena, arms crossed, waiting for the "show" to end. We'd think we' were putting on a pretty good show, eager to display our impressive riding skills.

I guess watching us ride isn't as exciting as we imagine it to be.

Well, if Jeff wasn't interested, there was a little fellow who was.

Time and time again when we rode in the arena one little fox sat, just outside the arena boundary, watching attentively.

He would sit with his tail curling around his front feet and his ears pricking at every sound. He'd sometimes move slightly or tuck his head down in order to get a better view of what was going on. Occasionally he'd yawn so wide that he'd almost swallow his head. We couldn't help but laugh at him. 

How, you may wonder, did the horses respond to our audience of one? Well, they knew he was there, and at first tried to avoid that end of the arena, but after time they got used to him.

We got used to him too. It felt good to have an audience, and we rode to impress him.

I'm not sure what kept him coming back, most likely he had nothing better to do, or was planning on making us his next meal. Maybe, just maybe, he actually appreciated a well-executed flying lead change.

I think every ranch has a designated "kid horse." That horse is usually the kindest. The gentlest. Bomb proof. The horse you can put anyone on. The horse you trust. Our designated "kid horse" was Rusty.

Rusty was a quarter horse with a bit of Arabian in her. Born a sorrel, Rusty then turned all white. Rusty was a good horse, and for the most part she was gentle, but she had just a little bit of a wild streak in her, maybe that was the Arabian blood.

Now Rusty was a really slow walker. The slowest on the ranch. My personal opinion is that her slow walking led to her classification as "kid horse." I think none of the grown ups wanted to ride her. No one likes to ride the slowest walker, so the kids rode her.

Rusty crow-hopped, bucked, reared and shied. She was crafty. While acting mild-mannered and innocent, she would look for opportunities to buck us off.

Once, I jumped on her bareback after catching her in the pasture. (She would always try to nip your butt if you were getting on bareback so you had to be fast.)

She had just a halter on, and that was generally not a problem. I was lazily riding her along, after all, it was Rusty. We came to a creek a few feet wide and suddenly she just got it into her head to go and she jumped the darn thing. A big jump. It was probably the first and only time she jumped that creek. Normally she'd just walk right through it. I'm convinced she knew that I wasn't really paying attention, not riding like I should have been, and knew I'd go flying if she took a big jump, which I did. And I didn't land in the creek. I landed on the bank. I broke my arm that day, but I learned a big Rusty lesson. But Rusty wasn't done.

She nearly killed us all one summer.

As kids, our job on the ranch was to exercise the horses, so we would go out to the pasture to catch Rusty and other horses we'd ride that day. We'd carry big buckets of grain and halters. Rusty liked grain, but she didn't like getting caught. That summer she started pinning her ears back and running us over in the pasture. She would barrel right at us. As soon as we'd drop to the ground she'd leave us alone and turn her attention to eating the grain. If any of us got up she'd charge again. Ears back, heels flying. She'd take some serious shots at us. If you imagine a 1400 pound horse charging at you when you're an 80 pound kid you'll realize it's not a situation that's much fun.

Soon enough the other horses were doing the same. It got to the point we were risking our lives every time we caught horses in that pasture. Rusty was the ring leader.

To this day, when I see a white horse in a field I wonder if that's a "Rusty." In the end, I can't help but love each and every horse we've had through the years, each with their own personalities. And maybe, every rider needs a Rusty at some point in time. Maybe it's those horses with lots of character that build the character in each of us.

When I was growing up and spending time on my grandpa's ranch we would sometimes have very long days of riding that involved driving the cows from the open range back to the ranch. This day usually involved the whole family and was a big job.

One day Charlie and my mom moved a smaller number of cows and must have decided they didn't need the whole crew, so the kids all stayed home. They were gone for most of the day, and when they got home Charlie had this story to tell.

He looked me dead in the eye and told me he'd brought me a surprise from the range. Now, you have to understand, the range is a pretty cool place. We've found lots of great things out there, including some indian artifacts.

Filled with anticipation, I couldn't help but notice that Charlie's shirt pocket was wiggling. After what felt like forever, Charlie unsnapped his shirt pocket and revealed that he'd brought me a lizard. But the best was yet to come. Charlie, who was in my mind, the best rider/horseman on earth, told me this story of how he came upon this lizard and decided to bring it home for me.

It was a hot day, and Charlie really didn't feel like going to all the trouble to get off his horse and catch the darn thing. After all, lizards are fast. On top of that he was riding a green horse, which made the idea of dismounting and chasing a lizard around even less appealing.

If any of us kids had been there I'm sure he'd have told one of us to get off our horse and catch it. Charlie was well known for having us kids catch and tack up his horses.... after all, getting a kid to do the dirty work's a lot easier. Charlie would just say the word and whatever kid was handy had a horse caught and tacked up ready to go for him. But back to the lizard story.

After thinking over his options Charlie decided to rope that little lizard. Now Charlie was a good roper. He used to practice roping us kids. The kids would run around and Charlie would rope us, often from a horse. That's how I learned that ropes are hard. They actually kind of hurt if they hit you in the head.

So Charlie threw out his rope and caught that lizard on the first try before the little critter ever saw it coming. Some might say Charlie was a great roper, but roping that lizard proved that he's the greatest roper ever.

Anyway, I had a lizard.

I remember telling this story to a friend when I'd grown up, when suddenly for the first time in my life I considered the logistics of such a feat. A faint shadow of a doubt overcame me. Was that kind of roping really possible?

After thinking long and hard I've decided to believe that yes, it was possible, and I'm sure after reading this post you'll believe too.