We Went Down to the River...

We Went Down to the River

It seems that we have been rather cursed with rainy weather ever since we got Trifecta.  I did take him down to the river a couple of times to visit the water, but it stayed high and muddy and it didn't seem sensible to walk down the slippery bank.  Instead, we have been just walking down the hill without visiting the river.  

Finally, we had a dry spell and the river became low and clear for the first time.  Ellen and I decided that we would take him back down to the water.  The mud on the bank wasn't even very slippery.

When we reached the edge of the river, he immediately put both of his front feet into the water.  I decided to walk him along the shale island.  We headed upstream to a spot where the water just barely covered the island--with a lot of the island above the water.  He had no problem walking through that.

We turned around and walked on the shale island downstream.  This time, he was between me and the water.  I tried to guide him into the water, but Ellen said he only got one hoof in.  As I walked down the island, I saw that at the end of it, it went into the water and continued along for about 20 feet.  The water was about 3 inches deep.  We just followed along the island and kept going.  He didn't hesitate, and he didn't seem the least bit afraid.  My biggest worry was that he would try to roll.  We did that twice and decided to call it quits.

I didn't want to go directly into the river quite yet.  It has a very slippery slate bottom--I worry more about me falling than him.  I want to make sure he is going to be comfortable with the river before I lead him onto the slate.  The last thing I need is for him to misbehave and for me to fall.  Somehow, I don't think that I will have too much trouble when the time comes--but there certainly isn't any reason to rush him.

He seems to have such a good brain--he has been a delight to work with.

Trifecta Meets the Farrier

Trifecta Meets the Farrier

Trifecta had his feet trimmed a few days before we met him.  My farrier, John Warner, was scheduled to come out about a month later, so he didn't need his feet trimmed.  John does so many horses at our barn, if he wanted he could do him on a different day.  Since I didn't warn him ahead of time, I didn't know what he wanted to do.

Trifecta isn't the greatest horse when it comes to cleaning his feet.  When I first got him, he was reluctant to pick them up and often tried to pull them away.  This wasn't a serious problem--nothing that regular foot handling couldn't fix, but we didn't really have much time to get him ready for the farrier.  Ellen and I did practice with him.  I would hold him, and she lifted his feet up, held them for a while and stretched his legs out.  I was in charge of praising him and petting him when he got it right.  He improved each day, but he wasn't reliable.

When I saw John, I told him I did a dumb thing--I bought another horse.  I then explained how he wasn't that good about foot handling and he wasn't actually due for a trim.  If he was too busy to get to him, he could come out another day.  He asked me how old he was, and I told him that he wasn't quite 2.  He said he had a rule for baby horses.  I held my breath--what could the rule be?  He said that if he came out, he would take the time to at least touch him.  He wouldn't charge me for it because in the end, it saves him a lot of trouble in the future.  I was elated, and told him we were on the same page.  I really wanted to use this as a training opportunity.

As John was doing the older horses, he told us about the experiences he has had with young horses.  So many don't get much handling.  Just the day before, he did three 2-year-olds--and only one cooperated.  The other two were rearing and fighting.  I knew that Trifecta wouldn't do anything like that, but I think that John has been in too many situations where the horse's owners say everything will be fine--and it isn't.

When it was Trifecta's turn, John shut off his fan.  I then led Trifecta to the work area.  There was the fan, John's equipment and truck--and there was John.  He walked up to Trifecta, let him sniff his hand and then started to pet him.  Trifecta loves to be petted.  All was going well.  John lifted up the first foot, took the file to it and put it down.  He went to each foot and Trifecta stood for him.  He did walk off a bit once between feet--but that is the only thing he did wrong--I certainly can't complain about that.

When he was done, John started petting and admiring him.  He said he was better than some of the older horses in our barn.  He then asked if Trifecta ever tasted a peppermint.  He has gotten plenty of treats, but no peppermints.  John went into his truck and found one.  When he gave it to Trifecta, he started chewing, made a face, thought about it and then decided he'd like another one.

I was so happy that John took the time to do all this with Trifecta--and so happy that Trifecta handled it like a champ!  Maybe someday, he will be just as good as his Uncle Cole--who John says is the best behaved horse in our barn.  He certainly made my day.

When Dante Meets Trifecta

 

When Dante Meets Trifecta