A note on memory, and what my animals are doing, today and yesterday....
April 13th 2007 04:00
Memory.
I remember, being a little girl, and begging my Mummy and Daddy for a horse. I remember setting up a stable in the garage, I used dry grass clippings for bedding, I filled the bucket with fresh water everyday and planned out every aspect of how I would keep said horse. These memories are without colour and scent and that visceral impact, but still, they are there.
I remember, years later, when I was seeing Dad for the first time in years, staying at his house two nights a week so we could go horse riding. I remember the heat haze in the air, the scent of horses and the quiet of summer afternoon when I came back from the canteen to see a brand new saddle and blanket sitting on the fence....And it was mine. Dad had bought me a horse. Not when we were prosperous, oh no, that would be too simple, he had to do it when we were poor, quickly buy up 3 horses, then vanish, promising me he would pay for them only to profess later that he couldnt.
But I digress. This is not about that pain - its not about pain at all, its about love. I had such a tender approach - The horses feelings always came first. I remember my first few days in TAFE, learning the ins and outs of the horse industry, all of us dewy eyed and idealistic and thinking our way was the BEST way(most horse people do).
I remember when all the horse girls I knew - and I do mean EVERY SINGLE ONE sold or gave away their horses, because it was 'too hard' 'too expensive' or whatever. Yes, its hard, YES its expensive - but my love, my duty won out. I hung on to my horses with both hands - I worked my hands to the bone, I became weary and old and had no social life, no long parties, no new clothes. Instead I had long hot days at the stud, constant fulfillment, and learning of extremely difficult things.
I remember watching Kai die. All six hours of it. I remember coming home from Korea, hardly even a person, only to have Raj break his leg and have to be put down. Baby, 13 month old baby, gone, dust.
I remember my fear, two weeks later, as Teshan gave birth to her first foal, who I would name Shakir, and indian word that means "thanks to the gods" or "gods blessing" because after so much pain, he was a ray of light.
I will share more memories, but first....
What are my animals doing? Today and yesterday?
In light of the above memories Im sure you will relate to my confusion and disbelief - If you had told me ten years ago that I would willfully and vengefully kick a horse in the guts, I would have said you were mad. Worse, I would have kicked you up the ass! Yesterday, the day before and the day before that, I kicked Magnus in the guts as hard as I could. I cant say it was 'hard' for me or I didnt want to do it - I did. I wanted to hurt him. The strength of a 600kg horse whose head is about 9ft above you cannot be comprehended by a puny human. Magnus has been trying to kill me by bolting over top of me out the stable door. Easter Sat I recieved some quite serious injuries when he managed to smash me against the door edge. When he was only a yearling and still had his balls, this was a regular thing for him - along with rearing, striking, kicking, biting, generally trying to kill every person he saw. He almost trampled me once, and on a separate occasion broke my wrist. Understand - I am not afraid for myself. By horses other than Magnus(most that did not belong to me) over the last 10 years Ive been bitten, kicked, trampled, thrown - Ive had it all. Seven serious head injuries, one that cracked a helmet in two and caused sight skull damage. Im afraid for Magnus - Running out the stable door is a great way for him to break a leg or gash himself open or break his nose, and I HAVE to punish him. We went through a lot to get to the kicking - curb chain, whip, polypipe, he just wouldnt LISTEN. I took to ignoring him completely - leaving him tied up while the other horses have breakfast. Trust me, kicking is something horses understand, as lead mare, its my duty to kick him if hes being naughty. I started working him mercilessly, thinking he needs exercise. Last night, there was a slight improvement. This morning? Worse than ever.
I did not kick. I did not hit. I calmly and impassively changed his rugs, and left him tied up while I doled out breakfasts - 3, well spaced breakfasts in the large paddock instead of two. I put Magnus in with his big brother, Shakir. They are FULL brothers(same sire AND dam) which is fairly rare in the horse families. Its quite obvious that hes viewing my puny human kicks with disadain - lets see what he thinks of his big brothers!
Magnus ran up and down. He charged the gates. He implored me with his beautiful big eyes. I sat and watched. Greatest show Ive seen for decades, as Shakir, my 'boss horse' quickly proceeded to steal everyones breakfast, kick crap out of his prissy younger brother, and brought him back into line for me. "Good boy!" I praised Shakir, who is still unsure exactly what he did.
What are they doing now? Grazing quite happily. If he doesnt walk through the doorway tonight, he gets to go visit his big brother again. Aaah, such power! The power of the eldest child! Best of all, Shakir is my slave, so long as I have a treat in my pocket. Lucky I baked some this morning!
The rest?
Najara is being a complete and utter pest. I know its her occupation, but COME ON! I think she needs a mate...Toddler becomes teenager, and can only think about sex. Great.
The easter eggs - My mate brought around four duck eggs on good friday. She found them(like she found Najara and Posh) and wanted to know if they would hatch. They were pretty cold when she brought them over, Ive had them under a lamp since then - its not looking good.
Yesterday Teshan allowed herself to be caught - No, check that. The horse who I usually have to chase for about 4 hours to catch begged to be caught! She had brushies and a little excursion, and when I let her go, her and her first born son(Shakir) went for a little gallop. Shakir bucks mid gallop, hooves hitting the sky, twisting in mid air. Teshan copies him....And barely gets an inch off the ground! Ah, the old grey mare, she aint what she used to be! I was riding her when she was Shakir's age, and remember quite clearly how she USED to buck! Must be hard to be aerodynamic after 3 children, I guess, she never lost that brood mare belly! At dinner time, Shakir was miles away, down the end of the property, having a pee(which involves a complex squat for those of you who dont know) while Spirit and Teshan were about mid paddock. Seeing me with buckets, every body gallops.
Shakir came from the furthest corner of the paddock like living fire - I remember when racing on his mother, the speed, the endless endless speed, the utter refusal to let another horse in front, the magnificent feeling of her changing gears beneath me. Spirit and Teshan gave it everthing they were worth, they had about an acre head start, but I watched Shakir, lengthening that stride, throwing his hooves out like he didnt care if they ever came back, drunk on his own speed he manuvered and turned and flew.... he passed them both.
I thought - I must ride that horse. I must break him in.
Its my final frontier - the one thing I have not done. Oh, Ive handled babies, halter broke, rug trained....But never saddle broken. Never been the first up there. Watching Shakir move like liquid air traced with fire I remember the utter exhileration of riding Teshan in her prime - so different to Chester, To Jill, all power and force and spirit...
I must ride that horse. I must break him in.
And thats what Im off to do, right now.
I remember, being a little girl, and begging my Mummy and Daddy for a horse. I remember setting up a stable in the garage, I used dry grass clippings for bedding, I filled the bucket with fresh water everyday and planned out every aspect of how I would keep said horse. These memories are without colour and scent and that visceral impact, but still, they are there.
I remember, years later, when I was seeing Dad for the first time in years, staying at his house two nights a week so we could go horse riding. I remember the heat haze in the air, the scent of horses and the quiet of summer afternoon when I came back from the canteen to see a brand new saddle and blanket sitting on the fence....And it was mine. Dad had bought me a horse. Not when we were prosperous, oh no, that would be too simple, he had to do it when we were poor, quickly buy up 3 horses, then vanish, promising me he would pay for them only to profess later that he couldnt.
But I digress. This is not about that pain - its not about pain at all, its about love. I had such a tender approach - The horses feelings always came first. I remember my first few days in TAFE, learning the ins and outs of the horse industry, all of us dewy eyed and idealistic and thinking our way was the BEST way(most horse people do).
I remember when all the horse girls I knew - and I do mean EVERY SINGLE ONE sold or gave away their horses, because it was 'too hard' 'too expensive' or whatever. Yes, its hard, YES its expensive - but my love, my duty won out. I hung on to my horses with both hands - I worked my hands to the bone, I became weary and old and had no social life, no long parties, no new clothes. Instead I had long hot days at the stud, constant fulfillment, and learning of extremely difficult things.
I remember watching Kai die. All six hours of it. I remember coming home from Korea, hardly even a person, only to have Raj break his leg and have to be put down. Baby, 13 month old baby, gone, dust.
I remember my fear, two weeks later, as Teshan gave birth to her first foal, who I would name Shakir, and indian word that means "thanks to the gods" or "gods blessing" because after so much pain, he was a ray of light.
I will share more memories, but first....
What are my animals doing? Today and yesterday?
In light of the above memories Im sure you will relate to my confusion and disbelief - If you had told me ten years ago that I would willfully and vengefully kick a horse in the guts, I would have said you were mad. Worse, I would have kicked you up the ass! Yesterday, the day before and the day before that, I kicked Magnus in the guts as hard as I could. I cant say it was 'hard' for me or I didnt want to do it - I did. I wanted to hurt him. The strength of a 600kg horse whose head is about 9ft above you cannot be comprehended by a puny human. Magnus has been trying to kill me by bolting over top of me out the stable door. Easter Sat I recieved some quite serious injuries when he managed to smash me against the door edge. When he was only a yearling and still had his balls, this was a regular thing for him - along with rearing, striking, kicking, biting, generally trying to kill every person he saw. He almost trampled me once, and on a separate occasion broke my wrist. Understand - I am not afraid for myself. By horses other than Magnus(most that did not belong to me) over the last 10 years Ive been bitten, kicked, trampled, thrown - Ive had it all. Seven serious head injuries, one that cracked a helmet in two and caused sight skull damage. Im afraid for Magnus - Running out the stable door is a great way for him to break a leg or gash himself open or break his nose, and I HAVE to punish him. We went through a lot to get to the kicking - curb chain, whip, polypipe, he just wouldnt LISTEN. I took to ignoring him completely - leaving him tied up while the other horses have breakfast. Trust me, kicking is something horses understand, as lead mare, its my duty to kick him if hes being naughty. I started working him mercilessly, thinking he needs exercise. Last night, there was a slight improvement. This morning? Worse than ever.
I did not kick. I did not hit. I calmly and impassively changed his rugs, and left him tied up while I doled out breakfasts - 3, well spaced breakfasts in the large paddock instead of two. I put Magnus in with his big brother, Shakir. They are FULL brothers(same sire AND dam) which is fairly rare in the horse families. Its quite obvious that hes viewing my puny human kicks with disadain - lets see what he thinks of his big brothers!
Magnus ran up and down. He charged the gates. He implored me with his beautiful big eyes. I sat and watched. Greatest show Ive seen for decades, as Shakir, my 'boss horse' quickly proceeded to steal everyones breakfast, kick crap out of his prissy younger brother, and brought him back into line for me. "Good boy!" I praised Shakir, who is still unsure exactly what he did.
What are they doing now? Grazing quite happily. If he doesnt walk through the doorway tonight, he gets to go visit his big brother again. Aaah, such power! The power of the eldest child! Best of all, Shakir is my slave, so long as I have a treat in my pocket. Lucky I baked some this morning!
The rest?
Najara is being a complete and utter pest. I know its her occupation, but COME ON! I think she needs a mate...Toddler becomes teenager, and can only think about sex. Great.
The easter eggs - My mate brought around four duck eggs on good friday. She found them(like she found Najara and Posh) and wanted to know if they would hatch. They were pretty cold when she brought them over, Ive had them under a lamp since then - its not looking good.
Yesterday Teshan allowed herself to be caught - No, check that. The horse who I usually have to chase for about 4 hours to catch begged to be caught! She had brushies and a little excursion, and when I let her go, her and her first born son(Shakir) went for a little gallop. Shakir bucks mid gallop, hooves hitting the sky, twisting in mid air. Teshan copies him....And barely gets an inch off the ground! Ah, the old grey mare, she aint what she used to be! I was riding her when she was Shakir's age, and remember quite clearly how she USED to buck! Must be hard to be aerodynamic after 3 children, I guess, she never lost that brood mare belly! At dinner time, Shakir was miles away, down the end of the property, having a pee(which involves a complex squat for those of you who dont know) while Spirit and Teshan were about mid paddock. Seeing me with buckets, every body gallops.
Shakir came from the furthest corner of the paddock like living fire - I remember when racing on his mother, the speed, the endless endless speed, the utter refusal to let another horse in front, the magnificent feeling of her changing gears beneath me. Spirit and Teshan gave it everthing they were worth, they had about an acre head start, but I watched Shakir, lengthening that stride, throwing his hooves out like he didnt care if they ever came back, drunk on his own speed he manuvered and turned and flew.... he passed them both.
I thought - I must ride that horse. I must break him in.
Its my final frontier - the one thing I have not done. Oh, Ive handled babies, halter broke, rug trained....But never saddle broken. Never been the first up there. Watching Shakir move like liquid air traced with fire I remember the utter exhileration of riding Teshan in her prime - so different to Chester, To Jill, all power and force and spirit...
I must ride that horse. I must break him in.
And thats what Im off to do, right now.
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Comment by Wendi
Much respect for you and your animal kingdom.
I'm short on words... catch the vibe!
W
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Love to you
Have a nice nap?
Comment by KylieW
Celebrity Obsession
I can practically see him running! Great imagery. Good luck breaking him!
Kylie
Comment by katyzzz
Photography Tips
MS Paint Art
Your words zipped through my mind and zapped it.
I've always wondered why I'm a bit timid around horses, now I know, but Oh my beautiful Magnus, my Horse, by proxy, I grieve.
You and I are poles apart, the physical is not for me, how hard you must have [and still do] worked. Please sort that grammar out, I'm too lazy.
You've got an excellent book there FOR SALE, and as the t shirts say, just do it.
Do noble things not dream them all day long.
May I please have a signed copy, I'll pay for it out of my GOOGLE earnings some time in the far distant future.
katyzzz
Comment by Wendi
no such thing as a bad nap. *LOL*
Thanks for askin!
Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
~Lily
Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
~L
Comment by Nickoftime's Sanity Corner
Take care,
Nick
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
It is a sight to see let me tell you. I thought Teshan was poetry in motion but due to her confirmation shes a little 'stiff'. Shakir, with his pure bred arab father, has liquid bones, it seems, and looks like his mother improved by 10 percent....Teshan with the kinks smoothed out. He can run...Ive never seen anything like it! Just let me get him on the track at the melbourne cup...If theyd ever let an arab run!
Katyzzz,
It was a shock to me to learn that all gentleness just doesnt work...Of course Id prefer it that way but in horse herds respect = love, and if you cant gain the respect, you dont get love. My right wrist has never been the same, and never again will be....I remember a point in my life when I got trampled on concrete and had four distinct hoof prints on my back....
Too many books to write!! ARRG
Wendi,
Total agreement. Im in desperate need of one right now....
Lily,
OUCH! Its amazing how strong you get when you have to deal with BIG animals! Its going to be a rodeo here very soon!
Nick,
Great to meet you! Thanks for the awesome comment, you know(Im going to post on it) I went out to break in Shakir and ended up getting on Magnus! I agree, Irish horses cant be beat! Theres something about them. Im glad you think I have the right balance of toughness/gentleness cos after a punishment I feel so awful...But then I see them HAMMERING each other in the paddock and wonder why I bothered getting upset...But I have a 14mnth old colt now, Ive always wanted a stallion and I know, one wrong move and he will get me, so its time to get over it...Im trying to keep it all love and sweetness but when he rears up over my head striking like Rocky Balboa....As Wendi says, "Momma dont play that!"
Ash,
Thanks, I hope so too, but it just dont look good. I cant 'feel' them in there any more. Are they too hot? Too cold? Im out of my depth...