Christmas Contractor or A DIY For Folks Like Me

Because my family are coming for the holidays, I figured now would be a good time to get my old bath tub and those eye-sore-hideous surround tiles torn out and replaced. Brilliant, eh? Yes, I know. So I called a contractor. So the contractor came, took a look, and said he’d call back with an estimate. So he called back a few minutes ago and said the job would cost between $6,500 and $8,000.

$8,000? Geez, I’m not talking about building the Taj Mahal or rerouting the Hover Dam here, just replacing the old bath tub and surround. Hello?

After the shock wore off, I called Tub and Tile Magic. You know, the folks who resurface instead of replace tubs and surrounds, which is a green idea (Bonus!) and is also eight times cheaper than the dreaming contractor. Big fat thumbs up. :)

*slight pause for ooos, eees and ahhs*

Ah, but all of this has me thinking...

Take a hard look around your own home. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Are thoughts of updating (at a price that won’t make your better half pass out) dancing in your head? And more, are you as desperate for inspiration and some good DIY words of advice as I am? Then I invite you to take a gander at the latest addition to my ‘Must Read’ list: Thrifty Décor Chick.

Now there’s a woman who's handy, loaded with inspiration, and explains things in a way I get. And I need all of that... since, you know, I’m about as handy, as full of inspiration and as mechanically inclined as a camp toaster.

In Memoriam - Edna Stewart Mitchell

It was one year ago today—one year since I lost my support, advisor, comrade in trouble, sounding board, confidence builder, luck, best friend and confidante—my mom, Edna Stewart Mitchell.

Loved with a love beyond all telling.
Missed with a grief beyond all tears.



Her favorite poem:

"Trees"

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

—Alfred Joyce Kilmer

To Hell With Your "Winter Wonderland." It's Gonna Be Fricken Cold Outside!

or
Tis the season to talk... horse blankets!


Everyone has an opinion—don't they? Even about horse blankets. There's the price, of course. And don’t forget durability, looks, layers, comfort, waterproof, if the damn thing will stay on...

I live in central Alberta, baby, and it can get mighty cold here—cold enough to feel guilty over even the thought of one of our many silent minus forty degree nights, me having the audacity to roast chestnuts on an open fire while my horse has Jack Frost nipping at his nose (and neck and chest and back and sides and butt...). Since moving to Florida was out of the question, I got online and researched blankets to death until I found one I felt would keep my horse relatively happy and me relatively guilt free.

Enter the "Weatherbeeta Orican Freestyle Detach-a-Neck Heavy Turnout"
(This is not an advertisement. This is just me saying what I've found.) It might be a bit pricey, but so are vet calls and antibiotics when your horse comes down with pneumonia.



Super strong 1200 denier triple weave, waterproof and breathable outer layer. Features the Freestyle gusset, shoulder dart and full wrap tail flap, Freestyle detach-a-neck, quick clip front closure, and wither relief pad. Warm 360g of polyfill with a hygienic and strong 210D Oxford lining and stainless steel surcingle fittings.







Sure. Whatever. Sounded good enough to try it out last year (sans the neck attachment though; I mean, it's great to have it in case it's needed, but it's just one more thing my boy can get himself hung up with) on my then twenty-seven-year-old gelding who's housed outside 24/7 in a huge wooden-fenced paddock with a large shelter, lots of quality food and plenty of non-frozen water. And I gotta tell you, I'm glad I did. The blanket honestly worked better than I'd hoped. My gelding was warm and dry all winter with no rub marks or tender spots of any kind, anywhere, and the blanket came through without a mark on it.

Would I buy it again? You bet. In a heartbeat. In fact, I am gonna buy it again because I'm in the process of purchasing a second gelding who’ll need one as well. You know. So I can roast chestnuts over an open fire. Guilt free.

Heartbroken

Of all the things my gorgeous eleven-year-old golden retriever Bramble (aka Bram; aka Bob; aka my little man; aka my boy; aka my shadow and constant companion) has had to deal with in the last nine months (thyroid problems, Cushing’s and then Addison’s disease with no middle ground ever found, weakness in the hind legs, and the most recent being a urinary tract infection), that he could possibly have cancer didn't even occur to me. Until this past Wednesday, that is. And that’s exactly what might take him in the next twenty-four hours.

Why would I blog at a time like this?--you ask. Because I need to do something besides lose my marbles… at least until 4:30 am when they’ll redo the lactate test, the first having come back as 8.8 where normal is 2 or under. If the redo comes back lower than that first, then that means it’s dropping and the prognosis will go up. Conversely, if the lactate test comes back the same or higher, the prognosis will of course be hopeless.

God.

Going back a little. Bram was referred to Calgary’s state-of-the-art C.A.R.E. Center (CARE meaning Calgary Animal Referral and Emergency) by our vet who, because of Bram’s longish list of woes and little improvement, wanted to rule out neurological problems. So off we went on Wednesday and again on Thursday, as the tests were so numerous. And that was when they found a mass

(A MASS)

on his lung, along with a few other things - the urinary tract infection and quibbles about his current medication dosages. With that, a CT Scan was tentatively scheduled for this coming Tuesday.

Then, today, Bram crashed.

It started out innocently enough, so much so that we truly believed it was due to the dosage changes of his medications (add a thyroid pill; lower the Prednisone by one; give antibiotics for the urinary tract infection). First, he lost interest in food shortly after 1 pm. Later, he started breathing slightly harder than normal and wanted out and in without doing anything. At 8:30 pm came the vomiting and discomfort and looking at his stomach. At that, I immediately called CARE and then my own vet, and it was on both their recommendation that I gave Bram one Gravol, then one teaspoon of Pepto-Bismol, then a Prednisone tab. After an hour (okay, so it was less) of no discernible improvement, I called and transported him to Animal Emergency. For my sanity’s sake and as a written record to keep it straight in my mind, here’s the rundown:

Chest X-Ray - confirmed the mass, no fluid in lungs, etc.
BP - normal (Addison’s crisis would show as low)
Heart Rate - on the higher end (Addison’s crisis would show as low)
Temperature - increasing (could be from the infection)
Blood work - electrolytes good
- white blood cell count slightly above normal (could be from the infection)
I-Stat Test - slightly lower but not critical
Lactate - 8.8 (normal is 2 or less) **Potential cause for high number could be cancer or, according to what I read, systemic sepsis**
Bram is currently on nasal oxygen fed via a small tube (which he’s pulling out as quickly as they’re putting it in) and IV fluids.
It’s also possible that the mass is causing systemic effects.

The time is now 4:32 am. That’s how long it’s taken me to write this, now badly my mind is working, how numb I am.

4:32 am… and the call just came. His lactate test is now 6.7. Not that it means he’s out of the woods. Not even close. But at least it dropped.

So, was this crash due to cancer, systemic sepsis, both, or something else entirely? That’s unknown at this point. The only certainties are they’ll keep redoing the test every few hours and I’ll keep doing the only thing I can: hope.


Update: With the white bloodcell count good the vet said it isn't to do with the UTI. It also hasn't to do with his Addison's. That only leaves one thing, and if taken off IV he'll only crash again.

He's too sweet, too special, too kind natured and has too much of a wonderful spirit—the perfect guy; family—to put him through any pain just so I won't have to say goodbye. So I guess the decision is made.

Ah my little man, my sweetie, my heart, my love, my beautiful boy—the best boy in town. No one who ever met you had so much as one bad word to say. I was truly, sincerely blessed to have had you in my life. Meet me at the bridge.


Bramble (Bram)
Sept 29/1998 - Aug 22/2010

Not a mean bone in his body; not one bad memory left behind.
That says so much.
We'll meet again, my beautiful, beautiful boy.

Amazing

Enjoy. :)

The Great Gopher War

They’re cute. They’re furry. They’re dangerous.

It’s gopher season here, again. Time to get out whatever nontoxic whatsit that’ll make the ankle breaking hole makers move on (to heaven or the next field, whichever comes first).

So far I’ve tried such things as nailing two decoy owls to the fence (I have a neat story on that; remind me to tell you about it in a little bit), spraying perfume in the hole (namely Oscar de la Renta… which didn’t work for long… but now we have the best smelling gophers on the planet, bar none), cramming their holes with very large rocks (which seems to be the only thing working at the moment), and a whole host of other attempts, some with varying degrees of temporary success, and others which didn’t phase the little bastards one iota.

Now before you go all PETA on me, just remember that I’m an animal lover to the extreme. But when push comes to shove (or rather, gopher’s rights vs. the health of my beloved equines), it’s a no-brainer—Gopher City needs to move by almost any means necessary. In other words, it’s war. Ah, but with other animals around that I want to keep healthy, namely dogs, cats and horses, poison is out of the question. So is hiring the gun toting and possibly inbred neighbor and his two gun toting and possibly inbred sons down the road who, in their kill-spree-delirium, might mistake a horse for said gopher, in which case I’d be the one shooting, would most likely get arrested for attempted murder, and would still be at square one with the gophers.

Dilemmas.

Now, if a few hawks would just move in. Or perhaps some gopher snakes. I have a massive phobia of snakes, but I’ll tell ya I’d welcome them over the gophers, anytime. At least snakes leave when the pickins are few. Gophers, on the other hand, are rarely without pickins, eating roots, trees, grass, plants and, heck, even things you wouldn’t normally suspect—yep they’re not only dangerous to equines, they’re dangerous to each other!

Speaking of which, a friend of mine was terribly late getting to work one day. When asked why, he said all the cars were backed up at the overpass because of a very sweet and sad sight. According to him, a gopher had earlier run out in front of a car and was killed. That wasn’t the sad part. What was, was that its brave little wife/husband/friend/son/daughter gopher attempted a rescue mission by running out, grabbing said dead gopher, and dragging it inch by inch back to safety.

Aww, isn’t that just too sweet?

Well no, not really.

What my friend didn’t know was that gophers are cannibals, the rescue merely grocery shopping. Not that that has any bearing on equines. But the knowledge of it definitely eases my guilt of wanting rid of them.

Gophers: It’s on.

Two Minute Horse Videos From “The Horse dot com”

Have you been wishing for two minute video explanations of everything from western bit fitting, to checking a digital pulse, to helpful tips and tricks? Yes? Well then I have a present for you. Check out:

http://www.thehorse.com/Videos.aspx?tab=howto

Aww, t'weren't nothin'. *grin*

Plain Jane vs. The Utopia of Kitchen Utopia

Be honest here. How many of you have walked into a Home Depot and were dazzled by their display of kitchens? Yeah, I know - me too. Especially when compared to my Plain Jane, who, although solid, is as old as my home and about as dazzling as a mouse in a wheat field—no crown molding, no rope trim, no raised or recessed doors, no kick plates, no fancy this or cool that or anyone coming into my kitchen and saying anything even remotely close to a compliment… in passing or otherwise… other than that my kitchen is newly painted and as clean as a pre-surgery operating room. So it’s no wonder I stood openmouthed when facing what I can only be describe as Kitchen Utopia, dramatic music playing in my head and all. Before I knew it, I went crazy via booking an appointment with one of their designers, choosing a kitchen (“The one up front, please… the first one… the one with every goody/feature/amenity known to womankind… the Utopia of Kitchen Utopia… that fawn-glazed jobby with 15% off if I order after February 28th”) and paying $100 to have my old Plain Jane “professionally” measured.

Should I mention here that I’m not exactly a culinary genius? Not that that mattered, I reasoned at the time. With the Utopia of Kitchen Utopia in my home I’d definitely look like one.

I was ecstatic. I was elated. I was losing my mind daydreaming about the Utopia of Kitchen Utopia being picked up and dropped into Plain Jane’s spot. Think of the family gatherings. Think of the Christmases. Think of the crazy neighbors next door who’d see the Utopia coming and talk in fits of jealousy. Think of…

I researched, and then reality set in. There had been problems, and it wasn’t necessarily all Home Depot’s fault (though the majority of it certainly is theirs), I found out, but also the folks Home Depot contracted to install their kitchens who also were—the folks who put in the lowest bid. That, and Thomasville itself. Apparently, many a woman before me had been dazzled at first glimpse of Kitchen Utopia as well as the Thomasville name, and too many of those, even two years later and counting, were still trying to get problems fixed. Needless to say, suddenly the Utopia of Kitchen Utopia wasn’t looking so Utopia. So when Home Depot’s designer called me to finalize and order, I canceled. Besides, what did the Utopia of Kitchen Utopia have that mine didn’t have?--besides looking like a Rolls Royce compared to a K-Car, that is. Trim? I can have that put on. Kick plates? I can have those put on, too. Crown molding? Ditto on the putting on. Fawn glaze and corbels and little feet, and, and, and? Put ’em on, baby. O.K., so Plain Jane will never be Utopia. But she could still (in my mind, at least) look pretty spiffy, and for a fraction of the cost and headache to boot!

Home Depot: Had you taken better care of your customers (as you so vehemently advertise), you would have had my business. Instead, Plain Jane will be getting a makeover in the Spring.

Plain Jane DIY Makeover List:
* Rope accent crown molding above cabinets
* Under cabinet molding
* Either half round rope column legs or split rope molding and split spindle caps (depends on size and availability) on either side of the sink cabinet, with large half round rope column legs (or grape motif corbels) on corners of the island.
* Framing and corner round cut rope molding, for cabinet doors, drawers, and front and sides of the island.
* Kick plate
* Very small square attached to the end of the last cabinet, with rope column legs (or some kind of legs), to station my computer.
* New cabinet hardware (I’m thinking dark and no pulls, just knobs.)
* Repaint the cabinets antique white and try (shudders) my hand at glazing - chocolate, of course.
* Under cabinet lighting

Column legs and corner round and split rope and split spindle caps… Whoosh! Now don't I sound like I know what I’m talking about. Sadly, I don't; I had to look them up.

For the Non DIY part of the DIY:
* Hood. A fancy one. Think Tuscan even, although I’m talking about a much smaller version here. Since I’ve always wanted one of these lovelies, that is one item I refuse to let some idiot with a chainsaw, hammer and a mouthful of nails take a whack at making. Nope, this baby will be manufactured and installed the right way: professionally.
* Backsplash. Now before you start in on me, you know as well as I do that those HTV home shows make everything look disgustingly fast and simple, even though we all know they aren’t. At least they aren’t to a new DIYer like myself. Heck, I recaulked around the washroom countertop the other day, did a great job imo, and was out-of-my-mind overjoyed about it for hours, so what does that tell you? (It should tell you that I don‘t know what I‘m doing.) So nope, the backsplash will be another job left to the professionals.
* And while the professionals are at the backsplash, I’m going to ask them if they can also tackle the flooring, too. Tile is tile, and most, if not all, backsplash installers also install flooring (that’s one thing I did learn from watching all those home shows; thanks Mike Holmes and Bryan Baeumler!)
* Countertops. Naturally.

Too much? Yeah, probably. But hey, if you’re going to go for it, do it as big as you can.

Note: When I said “professional/professionals/professionally,” I didn’t mean the ‘lowball bid boys’ from the big box stores. I mean the real, accredited, BBB rated, guaranteed, insured, ‘know what the hell they’re doing, don’t pass the buck for over two years, and will provide references’ types. Luckily, I learned all of that from others mistakes, not my own.

Note Two: “I do know Thomasville (furniture) does not make the Home Depot sold cabinets. It's a shame. People go there thinking they're getting "furniture" style cabinetry and what they get is far from it.”

“From what I hear, Home Depot bought the Thomasville NAME, then went to Mills Pride (who makes ultra cheapies) and had them produce a cheap line and stick the Thomasville name on it. I despise the box stores for that kind of stuff.”
—both quotes were borrowed from ContractorTalk.com (http://www.contractortalk.com/f74/kraftmaid-cabinetry-62955)

Note Three: Everyone wants the Taj Mahal for $1, especially in today’s economy. I get that, I understand that, and, heck, I’m one of them. The thing is, I'm also a realist who has an outdated kitchen and would like to have it upgraded the right way with the right products and without spending more than my life’s worth to do it. That, and on the TV design show ‘Dear Genevieve’ (that woman is a goddess) the other day, the kitchen cabinets she called “rental style and unsalvageable” looked exactly like my own. How embarrassing.

Note Four: RED DEER HOME SHOW - MARCH 5, 6, 7 - WESTERNER PARK
Ooo, eee, ahh. Check out what I found there: Virtual Stone Solutions (http://www.virtualstonesolutions.ca/index.htm)
If you’ve tried this Granicrete product or know someone who has, I’d sure love to hear from you. (Please do not respond if you are a distributor, have taken the class in, or are in any way affiliated with Granicrete. I'd like to hear from consumers only.)

Also, check out your local Habitat For Humanity ReStore (http://habitat.ca/findarestorep1380.php). There, you’ll find huge discounts off both the new and used and support your community at the same time!

The Daily Giggle

Are you in desperate need of a grin and/or giggle today? Then check out:

T-Shirt War!



You're welcome. :)

TAPS - Ghost Hunters - Honest or The Shell Game?

I like a good chill as well as the next woman, so it should come as no surprise that one of my favorite shows on TV is Ghost Hunters. You know what they do. Each week TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society) team members Steve Gonsalves, Dave Tango, Chris Williams and Ami Bruni, along with co-founders Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson, investigate "haunted" places and try to either debunk claims of the paranormal, or capture evidence of it.

Too cool, isn’t it? And even better, supposedly it’s all on the up-and-up...

... or is it?

Lately, their own viewing audience has done a little debunking of their own, trying to debunk the debunkers via dangling tantalizing evidence on youtube of what they’ve deemed as questionable content—ie: among others, the ol’ ‘fishing-line-running-from-the-coat-collar-to-the-pocket-and-giving-it-a-tug-to-make-it-look-like-a-ghost-grabbed-you’ routine. And maybe they’re right. Of course, I say this after watching repeated (ad nauseam) shots of Grant's oddly moving collar from every conceivable angle and speed, along with the usual assortment of directional arrows and highlight circles in every color of the rainbow. Heck, two women went so far as to demonstrate how it could be done without anyone—including a video camera close-up—being the wiser (and did a very good job of it, I must add).

Makes you think, donnit? And as a viewer, once you start thinking, you start questioning. Once you start questioning (especially questioning the credibility of a supposedly honest show), then you stop believing everything they show. Once you stop believing, you eventually stop watching and move on to something less a waste of your time... like, say, making wire jewelry, perhaps. Or, heck, writing! But is that what happened here? Truthfully, how would I know. But I will say this: writing is akin to a perceived true and honest TV show. Once the reader or viewer catches the author/story/TV show in a lie, they’ll drop it like a rancid bagel. Why? Because the trust is gone, and with it, credibility.

Take, for instance, my dad. He loved carnivals as a kid, couldn’t wait for them to come to town. So when one did, he was one of the first in the gate... and straight to “The Shell Game.” You know, the one where the carnie has three overturned shells side-by-side on a table, drops a pea and covers it with one of the shells, slides the shells around (all the while talking your ear off), then asks you to pick which shell the pea is hiding under. Simple, you’d think. Honest, too, you‘d think. So my dad watched for a while and then moved to the front of the line. When it was my his turn, the pea dropped, the shells slid around sufficiently, dad said to the carnie, "The pea is still between your fingers!” and the angry voice of the carnie answered, “Get this kid off the grounds.” Of course, everyone walked away, and that was the last seen of The Shell Game in Springhill, Nova Scotia.

I can’t help wondering how much of Ghost Hunters is honest and how much is The Shell Game. Whatever the answer, here‘s a word of advice for TAPS members: stick with honesty. Your viewers are not stupid. They also are not forgiving.

PS: Since it's very hard to know the real from the fake (if TAPS has had anything real, that is), I'm officially done with TAPS. Even one instance of falsehood in the paranormal arena—an area already steeped in controversy and skepticism—casts falsehood on the lot. Folks don't tune in to such shows to hear snake oil salesmen. What they want, what they're looking for, is proof and the truth.

2009: The worst year, ever

Have you ever had a year that will live in infamy as being the one you’d most rather have pulled a ‘Rip Van Winkle’ than be awake through?

Sure you have. We all have... or will. And 2009 is mine.

First, I was rear ended at a stoplight by not one but two vehicles (a moving van hit the half ton behind me, linking them at the bumpers before hitting me... if that makes any sense), which totaled my Jeep. After that came the age related woes of my highly intelligent and “sweetest little girl to humans and May West-like to other horses” thirty-two-year-old mare Bear, a cancer scare and surgery for me and, a month later, emergency surgery of a family member. Then a family member took a big hit from the dreaded “Downsizing Disease” (ten years at a great job literally one minute, and unemployment and a “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it goes” the next). But the twin topper was the most devastating of all: the sudden and unexpected but thankfully peaceful passing of my wonderful Mom on October 24th at approximately 3 pm, and, after “telling” me it was her time to go, the peaceful vet-assisted passing of 'my sweetest little girl' Bear (Pokey Bear Sadie) yesterday evening (Nov 24th) at approximately 6 pm.

Heartfelt thankyous go to Dr. McIntyre and the emergency crew of Red Deer, Alberta, for their compassion and heroic efforts with regard to my mom, and to veterinarians Dr. Grant and Dr. Rick, farrier Steve Harris, and Dennis Costen for their compassion and heroic efforts with regard to Bear.

I'll be infinitely glad when 2009 is over.

This is racist?

Seriously? Okay, so what am I missing? If this is racist and has been pulled off the shelves, then I gotta wonder what else is considered racist. Maybe this...








to the Witch communty.












Or this...







to the ‘Hairy Guys and the Women Who Love Them’ group.













Or this...










Oops, now how did that pic get in here? *ahem* But while we’re on the subject, this goes out to all you Twilight fans: THIS is a vampire!

A little horse advice to a beginner

So I was browsing through Craigslist today and stumbled across the following post:

horse advice (south shore)
looking to get a horse, but dont know anything about caring for it, if you can give me some advice as in how big a stall has to be and how much it costs to upkeep a horse that will be great. thanks
http://boston.craigslist.org/sob/grd/1417217513.html

Hey, at least this person asked first!

My advice? Don't get a horse unless you're first willing to take a ton of riding lessons with a qualified instructor and work at a reputable stable (gratis, if needs be) for at least a year.

Horses, even the free or cheap ones, are terribly expensive and are a huge commitment (mentally, physically, emotionally, and most certainly financially). They aren't something to be taken lightly nor started on a lark. Learn. Do your research. Ask questions. Find out about things like dental care (once a year at over one hundred per), farrier care (every six weeks at roughly $35 per trim... and that's for a regular barefoot trim—if you want shoes, they could run you a heck of a lot more), vaccinations (yearly for life—could run as high as $200 per year, depending), deworming costs (at least $20 every five weeks for life), boarding (as low as $125 per month to as high as several hundred per month, depending on the area, if the horse is to be inside or outside, and what the stable has to offer), specialized feed if necessary (boarding facilities only provide the basics, so there might be another hundred or more per month extra). And that's just the beginning! Add a minimum of $2,000 - $3,000 you'll need to set aside per year for misc. vet costs and the like (horses have accidents and they’re rarely cheap to fix!). Then there's the obvious, such as a helmet, saddle, bridle, saddle pad, brushes, hoof pick, blankets, fly spray, salt block, mineral block, buckets, halters (always have an extra one handy), lead ropes (again, extra), shipping boots, a trailer, riding lessons (yep, you'll still need that), possible training for your horse, a tack box... and the list goes on and on. Hey, horse owners don't call ourselves "horse poor" for nothing!

Oh, and if you're planning on keeping a horse at home, there's most of the above, plus straw (or shavings) and excellent quality hay (at the very least 250 bales of hay for one horse per year x whatever the price is where you live... here, it's gone up to around $8 to $10 plus, per bale) and a safe place to store it (away from where your horse is, as it could catch fire and kill the animal). And don't forget proper fencing (NOT BARBED WIRE or those damned T-posts!), a run-in shelter, a 12 x 12 box stall (which you'll have to clean out daily) which is made to specs and is safe and properly ventilated (or the horse could get the heaves, severely injured, or even killed), oats or specialized feed, a large water tub for outside (you'll have to clean that out every week as horses need access to clean fresh water no matter if they're inside and outside... unless they've just had a workout—then they need to be walked out and cooled down dry before being given water or they could founder), water buckets for inside the stall (also clean those out at least every week), a pitch fork, shovel, rake, broom, hoses, wheel barrow or muck bucket, safe stall mats (those can be really expensive!), a way to get rid of manure (to limit insects and disease, and because most counties have specific rules about that), rubber floor pans (to feed oats or special feed), water (of course), barn lights (of course), insurance, etc., etc. Not to mention the time involved in doing all of that plus grooming the horse from top to bottom every day, feeding at least twice a day, keeping all areas spotless, checking daily for anything sticking out (nails, etc., that could cut a horse), walking the entire pasture daily to check for gopher holes, loose boards, stray binder twine. And again, that list goes on and on.

Most people love horses. Most people want horses. No person should own horses unless they can afford them and know what they‘re doing. Why? Because too many good, sound horses end up at slaughterhouses, or worse—crippled, starved, ruined and in agony for life. Not to mention your own safety! If you're determined to get a horse, do the horse, and yourself, a favor and learn (through a ton of riding lessons with a qualified instructor and working at a reputable stable for at least a year) as much as you can first, first hand and not through some internet site or via some know-nothing idiot, so you'll know what you're getting into and so you can give a horse a good life.

Life, by the way, can be around thirty years or more.

ALERT: Stolen Horse in Alberta, Canada

As some of you might know, I live in Alberta, Canada. So when I read a post today on Fugly horse of the day about a stolen horse in Alberta, I naturally had to jump on it to try to help spread the word. Please listen up.

If you are in Alberta, Canada please be on the look out for this stolen horse! This two year old filly disappeared from her pasture and we are VERY concerned that she may show up at an auction. If you see her at one or advertised for sale, please immediately call 780-722-4833. Thank you!





































If you have seen this filly, do the right thing and call the number. Let's get her home!

Update: This filly is home safe. She was deliberately let out by Bad Neighbors, recognized and intercepted at the auction house, and brought home. Thank goodness!

Applauding Good Farriers/For The Love of Old Mac’s Boots/Another Reason Not To Rein

There are a ton of things we horse owners can physically do to keep our four-legged family members healthy, as well as a ton we cannot do and so have to rely on the expertise of others. Trimming/shoeing, for most of us, falls into the latter category. So today, I thought I’d tout the expertise and ingenuity of the good farrier—that highly regarded, highly sought after and often unmentioned guy or gal who goes to extraordinary lengths to keep our beloved equines comfortable.

I’ve spoken about Bear—my thirty-two-year-old Quarter Horse mare—several times on this blog, but haven’t really gotten into her goings-on, so I figure now’s as good a time as any. To look at her, you’d swear she was in her prime. Inside, however, is a whole other story. It all started long before I purchased her, when her previous owner sent her as a four or five-year-old to some big-name whoop-dee-do reining trainer.

Yes, I said reining, and yes, it might ruffle a few reining-lovers. So it goes.

This summer, stiffness and slight lameness increasing to dead lameness forced a vet visit along with his portable x-ray machine. What he found was a very old torque fracture in Bear’s left carpus (knee) which had healed years ago and had over calcified, along with a bone spur and a few other odds and ends. In Dr. Rick’s own words: “This is the type of injury that likely nobody noticed when it happened, but eventually shows up big time.” Then he dropped the other shoe, saying, “It’s common in reining horses.”

Common! Well if that doesn’t give you a reason not to rein, I don’t know what will. Oh, and just to clarify: I’m a Western and English Pleasure person, not a reining person, so I had never practiced nor shown Bear in reining... although I heard she could spin on a dime and slide like a toboggan on ice. Of course, if I had reined her, no doubt she would have been in far worse shape than she is now and it would have showed up far earlier, like in her prime. But anyway...

So what has all of this got to do with a farrier?--you ask. Hang on, I’m getting to it.

We started Bear on intra-articular injections right then and there, and they worked like a charm. She’ll never be 100% of course (she’s still a little stiff and always will be), but the pain and lameness disappeared... until trouble started again, this time with her right front hoof. Out came the vet (again) with his x-ray machine (again), and this time the x-rays showed nothing—no rotation, no degrading, no anything. (Thank goodness.) The diagnosis: a high abscess. The cure: Epsom salts soakings, Epsom salts poultices, and shoes. Ah, but how do you nail shoes onto a stiff-kneed, sore-hoofed horse without causing even more pain?

You don’t. You use Old Mac’s Multi Purpose Horse Boots (Original) with Comfort Padding instead, along with some vet wrap around the pasterns to prevent rubbing. Bear takes a size 6. And yes, she wears them 24/7, save for taking them off every 24 hours to check the hoof as you normally would, the boot for debris that might have fallen inside, and to change the vet wrap. Easy as hell to size (place hoof on a sheet of paper, trace the outline, take the outline to a tack store and have a knowledgeable employee measure to fit), easy as hell to put on and take off (just don‘t forget to put your finger between the horse’s pastern and the internal velcro fastener when cinching it up in order to give a little breathing room), easy as hell for Bear to walk in, and she‘s never lost one yet. I seriously love these boots and highly recommend them. (By the by, I tried the Epsom salts poultice/gauze/diaper, vet wrap/duct tape boot thingy for about three weeks prior to the Old Mac‘s, but Bear was still pretty darn sore with it. Not to mention that the amount of time with her knee bent and the other leg holding her up sure didn’t help matters.)

Ah, but who gave me the heads-up on Old Mac’s?

Why, my farrier, Steve Harris, of course.

(See? I told you I was getting to him.)

Did I mention that previous to this whole ordeal, when she was just a little stiff in the knees, that Steve was trimming Bear’s hooves via sitting on the ground with her hoof in his lap so she wouldn’t have to bend her knees too much and he therefore wouldn’t cause her as much pain? Now that’s a farrier who goes above and beyond, let me tell you; a rare one who’s actually concerned about the welfare of the horse.

More, we found that Bear, in trying to take the weight off her abscessed front right (during the interm between the duct tape boot thingy and the Old Mac’s), had strained her opposite hind leg through overcompensating. That was when the real farrier fun started. Poor Steve. There he was (even with the Old Mac’s boots and pads by then, which made my mare’s fronts sound and comfortable), with Bear needing to practically sit on him to have her hind hooves trimmed. I mean, Steve is a pretty strong guy and all, but let’s not forget Bear weighs around eleven-hundred pounds! So what did Steve do? He staggered over to his truck and came back with something so simple and worked so well that it was forehead slapping—a wide roll of duct tape and a square sponge. Lay the duck tape on its side, place the sponge over it, place hoof on top, and trim while kneeling on the ground. Voila! Well, it’ll do at least until her hind leg strain heals. By the way, I told Steve that if he ever tried to move, I’d hunt him down and drag him back—he’s that good.

Currently, the abscess is ready to break, the boots are doing famously, and Steve is still worth his weight in gold. Good farriers like Steve Harris (who hails from Alberta, Canada)—you gotta love ‘em.

When should I start riding my horse?

About a gazillion years ago, I asked our so-called qualified vet that very question regarding our then coming two-year-old and was told (word for word): “He’s a lot stronger than he looks, so go ahead.”

That has to be the single worst piece of horse advice in the history of bad horse advice, and I’ll tell you why. 1) No young horse is stronger than it looks, and of course it isn’t; no matter what it looks like on the outside, it’s still a baby on the inside. 2) Any vet who tells someone that is a moron.

Instead of talking to myself for the next twenty pages (since I doubt horse folks who’ve made up their minds and/or have their own agendas and reasons for doing things will listen to little-ol’ me), I’ll just post a link to
Deb Bennet’s (Ph.D.) study on equine skeletal development

Read it; repeat it; print copies off and hang them up in your barn or leave them on the table in your Boarder’s Lounge or pass them out at your kid’s local 4-H or Horse Club meeting. Futurities be damned; I want my horses alive and sound beyond the eight-year-old mark.

I don't think so, Doc

Well, I’ve met with the specialist, had a biopsy (here’s a word of advice: “A little pressure” is doctor jargon for “excruciating pain”), gone in for my pre-op blood work and had a CA125 test. Now, as long as I don’t catch a cold, the surgery will take place on August 24th.

Oh yes, and the doc advised me to quit smoking at least ten days before surgery.

Quit smoking? He must be joking. As if my nerves aren’t shattered enough at the myriad of horror stories one hears about surgery—being awake throughout and unable to tell anyone; dying on the table because the doctor is a quack, or because the anesthesiologist is a quack, or because the doctor is making google-eyes with Nurse Buxom, or because the anesthesiologist is making google-eyes at Nurse Buxom, or because the doctor and anesthesiologist are making google-eyes at each other; dying in recovery because that Nurse Buxom is in the janitor closet with the doctor and anesthesiologist instead of monitoring my stats; dying because the anesthesiologist doesn’t know that my veins have a tendency to collapse with such force as to shoot catheters across rooms like lethal ninja weapons, perhaps killing said doctor, nurse and anesthesiologist, leaving me to bleed to death before the surgery has even begun; waking up at my own autopsy.

I’m kidding of course. I don’t really believe any of that. I’m just a Fiction writer who's a little neurotic when it comes to anything medical. I know nothing will happen before, during, or after the surgery. Ah, but just in case, I won’t be quitting smoking anytime soon.

Michael Jackson

1958 - 2009




Goodbye. And thank you.






















Mr. Jackson once asked “Why are people so mean?”

Good question. And with all the crying while leaving cards and flowers, signing billboards, and screaming I-love-you's now that the man is dead, an equally good question might be: Where was all the love when he was alive?

People are flocking to his memorial right now, squealing about winning tickets and acting like they’re about to see a concert, when a man - son; brother; friend; father; icon; consummate entertainer; humanitarian - has died. Family and those who knew him personally are hurting, and will for a long time. Some respect please, public and media alike.



"Smile, though your heart is aching..."

My heart goes out to the family and friends of Mr. Jackson.

With sincere condolences,
Hawke

Hawk Horse Trailers

Oh Momma, I want this (and not just because of the name, either)


NEW 2009 HAWK 2H BP DR $12,800
BRAND NEW 2009 CUSTOM HAWK 2 HORSE BUMPER PULL WALK THROUGH W/ DRESSING ROOM
BRAND NEW 2009 CUSTOM HAWK 2 HORSE BUMPER PULL WALK THROUGH W/ DRESSING ROOM. 2 3,500# AXLES 22-1/2 UP. ST20575R15(C)TIRES 5 ON 4-1/2. BULKHEAD WINDOW, CARPET ON BH WALL HALF, RUNNING BOARDS, 20x24 WINDOWS IN STORM DOORS, BREAST/BUTT BAR PADS, DIAMOND PLATE FULL LENGTH ON FENDERS, DIAMOND PLATE ON NOSE 18" HIGH. WHITE BODY WITH BLACK ROOF, FRAME AND FENDERS AND BLACK HAWK VINYL STRIPE. (white)
SEE MORE PICTURES ON OUR WEBSITE AT
www.tantivytrailer.com

but I live in Alberta, Canada.

Check out: http://www.hawktrailers.com/
And a review: http://www.mrtrailer.com/hawk.htm

Why don’t they have a dealership in “Horse Country” (that’s slang for Alberta)?

Just asking.


EDIT: On second thought, with all the horror stories you hear about spooky and/or young horses getting hung up on the chest bar and such, I think I'll just stick with my newly redone tried-and-true WW two horse straight load.

Part Two of "People Doing Terrible Things"

Todd Shevan Williams—Animal Cruelty and Bastard Deluxe

I read Fugly Horse of the Day yesterday, a blog new to me (Where have I been?) and likely well known to everyone else. The post there broke my heart and made me see red at the same time. It was about horrific animal cruelty at the hands of an evil bastard named Todd Shevan Williams.

Fugly asked folks to send a carefully worded e-mail to the prosecutor and listed the address. It also gave a link to the ongoing story about the poor horses this arse cheek starved nearly (and in two cases, did) to death, and to the wonderful folks at Beauty’s Haven Equine Rescue who are trying to save them. To read the whole story, follow the link, start at the bottom and work your way up. Warning: Kleenex is definitely required.

Tell me, Mr. Todd Shevan Williams, what planet are you from when you think tree bark is in any way a replacement for hay or even grass? I mean—come on!—I know some horses seem to live on air, but... really? Hello? Or maybe you just didn’t know. So I’m wondering which is it—are you a brainless bastard or an evil bastard? Guess the jury’s still out on that one... though not for much longer, if you get my drift. Of course, if they only let you eat your prison cot mattress, maybe you’ll clue in on what you did to those poor horses.



As for me, I’m always happy to spread the word. Especially if it helps put a sumbitch like Tom Shevan Williams behind bars where he belongs.





Blessings to Beauty’s Haven Equine Rescue . If you, Dear Readers, can help these fine people to help these fine horses by... say... giving them an amount equal to a week of your morning Starbucks coffee or your dinner out/takeout, or by selling something you no longer want (NOT YOUR HORSE!) and donating the sale to them, or even by putting in for one of their many raffles, then please do. Doing good will do you good, and these angel-folks most certainly deserve it.