Anna Blake In the first months after coming to our farm, it was a simple schedule for Nube: wrestle, eat, sleep, repeat. The horses were kind, but it was mutually agreed they could do without Nube’s adolescent fart games. It was great news because fart games are the bread and butter of donkey life. I’d given the … Read more
Have you experienced this? Someone says something that is a throw-away comment, not meant to be anything, they toss it not intending any harm. I mean it, kind people having a thoughtful conversation, and one of them says the new horse is close to perfect and she likes him a lot, but she somehow does … Read more
“How do I stop my horse from doing this?” An oversimplified version of the most common question a horse trainer is asked. The question comes with a backstory, a theory, and a recitation of everything they have tried. The first resistance is small, we might think it’s a cute affectation even, but if we don’t … Read more
How many times a week do I tell a client some version of “When we know better, we do better”? It’s a Maya Angelou quote, we all know it. It has no big words, we understand it. And yet we cling to the past. We smear shame, guilt, and remorse all over ourselves as if … Read more
I was forty-nine years old with gray hair, calloused banged-up fingers, and chronic lameness in my left foot. He was two months old, brave, sensitive, and wildly athletic. He cantered at liberty throwing flying changes for the fun of it. I loved dressage, especially riding changes that skipped with energy and lightness. We were the … Read more
“I tried everything,” my client says. This isn’t something that I hear once in a long while. It’s a time-honored tradition, consistently stated. Sometimes, there is a time deadline but mostly it happens on an ordinary day. My client says it, so I’ll know what they have been thorough before contacting me. It’s implied, almost … Read more
I’m walking next to you and I’m talking loudly. I am so close that you feel the heat of my words on your skin. My right shoulder is pressed into yours and I have hold of your face. There’s a stick in my other hand. I am not walking evenly, one stride longer than the … Read more
I was forty- nine years old, and my upcoming birthday was hanging in the air like a pair of stretched-out waist-high cotton underwear. My Grandfather Horse was on stall rest with a career-ending injury, never to be rideable again. At least my other horse, Dodger, was sound and fifteen. I didn’t know I’d lose him … Read more
Sitting in a horse pen is the easiest thing in the world. I might even like to cook if I could do it in a horse pen. I am dead certain a root canal would be better out there. We all love the sound of hay being chewed and we even like the sound of … Read more
It’s been quiet here. Winter is good for that and we haven’t had a day above freezing in a while. Fewer people are out driving and no tractors or lawnmowers are chewing things up. It’s too cold for the dogs to supervise from the yard. They are literary dogs anyway, much happier sleeping on dog … Read more