2015 Death Valley Encounter, Day 1, 50 Miles

After a very good performance in the 25 at the Coso Junction ride, I decided DC needed to do a 50 or two. She needed a little humbling. I've done Death Valley several times, so I had some idea what to expect. I decided it would be best to ride her on Days 1 and 4.

Day 1 is a big, long loop with an out vet check. It's a tough ride, but Days 2 and 3 have tougher trail I'm not ready to expose her to just yet.

In the morning I did my normal routine of feeding at 5am and getting my own breakfast. I was very fortunate to have my husband along, meaning I had a nice hot breakfast and  fresh coffee every day.

DC was quite nervous when the time came to saddle up. Now she really knew what's up. It's likely she's always going to be tense while we prepare. She settles down quite nicely once we're on the trail.

DC walked nicely out of camp and across the road, feeling a little conflicted with Hoss at camp calling for her. By the time we crossed the road, she got down to work and was ready to get after it.

We caught up with a group of riders I often ride with, including Laurie and Joan. I thought we might stick with them. It became evident DC is far too fast for that group, so I let her move on. I don't really want her getting into wanting to be with other horses anyway.

We were sailing along pretty well, and doing very nicely. I didn't realize at the time, but we were pretty close to the front runners.

At the top of a hill, I realized I needed to tighten DC's girth, so I hopped off and took care of that task. I didn't realize until later that in the process of getting off I had dislodged my phone, which remained behind.

I got back on, oblivious to the loss of my phone and we kept chugging down the trail. I had switched her recently to a hackamore, and now I learned that was a mistake. The idea was for her to get used to eating and drinking on trail and not have to contend with a bit while learning. Now I had nothing to drive her forward into, and she was over reaching badly. When another rider commented on the sound of her hind shoes clipping the fronts, I quipped, "At least I know the shoes are still on!"

Once we had broken free of other riders, we moved out some more with me trying to keep her together and not having much luck. At one point, her right front foot stopped hard, and she just kept moving on. I thought, she'd either hit a rock or pulled the shoe.

She had pulled the shoe.

It was only about 10 miles into the ride, and she wasn't about to slow down if she could avoid it.

We came to a dry creek crossing with a very steep step down. I decided she didn't know enough yet to try to carry me down it and hopped off to lead her down. As soon as I stepped down, the ground gave way underneath me. My only saving grace was that stupid hackamore. Since there was no bit in her mouth, I felt comfortable using the reins to keep me from falling completely, and she complied nicely by holding position and giving me something to brace against.

I recovered from my near-fall and continued leading DC. We were on single track trail, and she wanted nothing more than to catch up with other horses in the distance. I was eventually forced to get back on and hope that right front foot would hold up. She just would not walk compliantly and she was going to get me hurt.

Once back on, we were off and trotting again. I managed to keep her back some, but elected to dismount to control her on another downhill and she was determined to catch up. At least at this point we were on a road, so she was less likely to kill me. The absolute determination was beginning to get to me. For a moment I considered removing her bridle and letting her go and see if we ended up in the same place at the end of the day.

At this point I realized I'd lost my phone. Now I was thoroughly discouraged. DC had a shoe off. My phone was gone. All we were going to be doing at the vet check was getting a ride back to camp.

Another pair of riders caught up, and one called out to ask if I'd lost a phone. Why, yes, yes I had. Indeed, they had my phone. And, they offered me the use of a hoof boot. It was a size too big, but it seemed to stay on pretty okay.

We continued on our way, me watching our shadow carefully to make sure that boot was still on, her looking for horses to overtake. She would catch up and overtake horses, then keep going to be sure they stayed behind her. Occasionally she'd slow down, figuring she was far enough ahead to risk taking a breather. If another horse caught her, it was on again.

The boot turned out not to work. It would stay on until she over reached and stepped it off. By the time I gave up on it the gaiter was wrecked.

I finally led her into the vet check, having gone faster than I had expected and slower than DC wanted. If she'd had her way, we would have been to the vet check an hour and a half earlier.

I found our crew bag and got us set up. This was DC's first out vet check experience. She had learned enough in her last ride to know she'd better eat. Still, she was pretty amped and wanted to look around. I insisted she be reasonably still and not spin circles. She ate her hay relatively well, but ignored the bran mash.

After we'd been in for half an hour, I took her to Alyssa to vet. I mentioned the lost shoe and that she hadn't taken a lame step. She passed the vet check without taking a bad step. OK, so we were going to continue. If nothing else, even if she was disqualified at the end, she needed to learn a little something.

We finished our hold time and headed out. DC did a nice controlled trot for a time, and then caught sight of other horses. And we were off. She cantered just shy of a gallop for a good length of time across the valley floor. Other horses caught us when she slowed, then she'd get up moving again and pass. I managed somehow to keep her from completely running away with me.

What finally slowed her was the heavy climb out of the valley. We were now with two other horses on a rocky, treacherous section of trail. She was fine with staying behind Ann Marie and Woody at this point.

Never once did DC take a lame step as she powered back toward camp. Her only concession to maybe being a little sore footed was the switch to cantering on the other lead toward the end of the day.

Concerned about that foot, I got off and led her in the last bit. Consequently, we were passed by several horses and dropped out of the top ten. Had she not lost that shoe, she certainly would have been in the top ten. As it was, she still dragged me back into camp at the end of the day.

Did I say something about humbling her? Never mind.

2015 Death Valley Warm Up, Day 2, 25 Miles

On Day 2, I saddled DC up with her new gear to head out. She was quite nervous, not sure what to expect, and knowing Hoss was distressed. Hoss, of course, understood what it meant that she was being saddled and he was not. He was giving her last minute instructions as I saddled her up and walked her away.

DC sporting the ugly saddle, the day we found it.

I knew Hoss would be OK by himself. He's a smart and sensible guy and generally quits acting the fool pretty quickly. I did make sure his lead rope was well secured. By the time we left, he was looking up and nickering, but mostly keeping his head lodged in his hay bag.

Getting ready for the ride, feeling nervous

DC was a little silly at the start. She was spooking at every little thing she could think of to spook at. I realized her girth was not tight enough, but she wouldn't stand still for me to get off until another rider, taking pity on me, stopped her horse in DC's path so I could dismount.

Once the saddle was tightened sufficiently, I got back on and we were on our way. It only took a few miles for DC to settle in and get to work. She was clearly a little mystified by the number of horses around. It's been a long time since she has been at a ride, and our last one we took a wrong turn and it was her, me, Hoss, and Wendy for miles and miles. This was really a rather new experience for her  to be around a bunch of strange horses all going the same place.

We trotted along and stayed with various horses for brief periods, but DC never really hooked up with another horse. She could take or leave any of them. Often, preferably, leave them.

The vet check was a quick check and short hold. We didn't have to stay long, and DC showed no interest in her hay, so we got back on the trail quickly. She was looking back and trying to determine what in the world it was we were up to, so it didn't take long for another rider to catch up with us.

Our horses were pretty well matched (other than the gelding walked faster than DC does), so we remained together for the rest of the ride.

DC quickly discovered trotting downhill was a pretty nifty way to make time. And when we got to the long more-or-less flat portion, she got right down to cantering. Cantering is her new favorite thing. She would pop over into the canter and just go right along. I kept thinking she'd slow down on her own, but that wasn't going to happen. I kept having to slow her myself.

I was having difficulty keeping myself centered in the saddle. The previous day's ride on Hoss had left me pretty much without any "leg" left. Every time DC took the right canter lead, the lead she prefers, I'd start to lose the left stirrup. And every time I tried to get the stirrup back, DC thought I was asking her to go faster. She is, I have to say, quite fast. I could tell she had another gear to give. I kept her back, not wanting her to blow herself up.

We sailed back to camp, and I had to get off to get her to slow down. As we walked along the paved road back into camp, I could hear the telltale sound of a loose shoe. That left hind shoe was near gone. This was not a surprise. After all, she was due for shoes the next day.

After I got DC vetted out (she didn't give a hoot about Hoss; her heart rate came down right away), I took her back to the trailer and tended her. I got everything packed up and we were ready to go two hours after we had finished. I was satisfied with this time before loading up.

At the end of the ride, she thinks she's got this all figured!

I had loaded the horses in the trailer and was putting away the last minute stuff when someone yelled to ask what my out time was. Out time? I was done! I guess I've been doing 50s so long, it never occurred to anyone to think I was doing an LD.

We pulled out at 3pm, and were home by 10. DC cantered off into the pasture, shoe clattering, feeling pretty darn good about herself.

2015 Death Valley Warm Up, Day 1, 50 Miles

It's been a few years since I went to this ride. I decided pretty close to the last minute to go. We'd finally gotten DC's saddle issues figured out, by dint of finding for her the ugliest, quite possibly oldest existing Abetta Western saddle in existence. It's in reasonably good shape, all things considered, even if it is ugly. And it fits her. It fits her well enough she feels like a new horse under it.

So I decided both horses were going. I dithered a bit about DC's shoes, having noticed her left hind sounded a little off, and ended up taking her in shoes just days shy of six weeks old. I could have gotten her done beforehand, but I just never got around to getting to it. I decided it wasn't such a huge risk not to take.

DC's first "truck stop bran mash"

It was the longest trailer ride DC had ever been on. She got anxious in the trailer after a couple of hours. I stopped at our regular truck stop and unloaded both horses. DC handled it pretty well for it being the first time she'd been off the trailer in an unusual place. We even had a little walk around the dirt parking lot. Both horses ate a sloppy bran mash beside the trailer before we loaded up and finished the drive. DC was quiet the rest of way, aside from flapping her lips in the breeze with her nose stuck out the trailer.

Because I was on my own, and we would have to head home on Sunday, I opted to ride Hoss in the 50 on Saturday and DC in the 25 on Sunday.

Saturday morning, I got Hoss ready and started him warming up. I was a little concerned about leaving DC at the trailer by herself, but I knew enough people would be in camp and she's sensible enough to be safe. Usually I don't do much warming up, but I wanted to monitor DC's behavior before we left.

We made several laps so I could see DC. The first three times, she was still there, decreasingly anxious. Just as the trail was about to open, I peeked over one last time, and she was gone. Lead rope and all. I went trotting on Hoss back toward camp hollering about my loose horse. Another person had found her and was walking her back. Laurie Birch, another rider, kindly offered me the use of her horse's pen while we were gone. I gratefully accepted and hemmed in the silly little mare.

Hoss was of two minds about leaving camp for the first mile or so. Once we were far enough away for him to focus, he got down to work.

We were by ourselves for a time, then were caught up by a group including Laurie and Taz (who Hoss loves) and Joan and Dodge. We trailed along with them for some time. I realized Hoss really has the ability to go faster than this group tends to go, but I also had a feeling he wasn't going to pass them. Rather than set him up to fail, I allowed him to fall behind until he finally let them go. When he did let them go, he was feeling a bit unmotivated and really not interested in getting up the hill. I had to pedal him quite a bit.

Getting to the vet check felt like an insurmountable task until we found ourselves there. Hoss recognized the trailer and the people and cheerfully started hunting for his crew bag. He ate well and even slurped up his bran mash. At this ride, I did not give him any electrolytes other than what he got in his mashes, so no syringes during the ride. This is a pretty big change for him, which I decided to do after he spit out half the syringeful the last time I gave him one. I have decided to trust him to tell me when he needs electrolytes.

After the hold, it was back on the trail. There were a few horses ahead, and Hoss was feeling motivated, so I let him move out. These horses were faster than him, so I had to hold him back a bit, but he was doing very well.

We chugged our way up the big, fat hill, then got to work getting back toward camp. We caught up with, passed, and were caught and passed by the other horses we'd been chasing/riding with since the vet check.

It turned out the other horses were on the LD ride, which meant an interesting little divergence. We got to within a few miles of camp, and the LD riders continued straight while we, on the 50, turned right for an additional four or five miles. Hoss trotted along cheerfully enough, clearly knowing we were close to camp, and thinking that was where we were headed, even if we weren't with the other horses anymore.

Then I asked him to step up onto the double track, and he caught on. This was definitely Not Back To Camp. Oh, he could not possibly have a more cruel and inhumane owner! He dropped to about a 2 mph walk. I know the score when he's in a mood like this. There is no making him go faster. No power on this earth will get him moving until he gets out of the snit. The only option is to simply ride through it. Kicking and urging will just wear me out and get me nowhere.

We went at this snail's pace walk for about a mile before another horse caught and passed us. Now that he wasn't the only horse being forced to walk The Wrong Way, Hoss picked up a desultory trot to sort of keep up. He wouldn't catch up, but he'd get to a respectable distance.

We got to the end point and turned back toward camp. Hoss did not believe at first that we were really, honestly and truly, headed back to camp. After a bit, he realized we must be finally going to the finish and picked up a more respectable pace for the last couple of miles.

I presented Hoss to Alyssa when we arrived, only to have him fail to recover. I knew exactly what was up with that. DC had been hollering to him for some time, and all he could think about was the mare. I went back to camp and got her, and when I re-presented him, he was fine.

Full moon over camp

2014 Sesenta Años

Since Cthulhu's birth, and the subsequent intensity of time required on my part, I hadn't ridden much. By November, Cthulhu was ready to be weaned, and doing pretty well all things considered (there will be more on him in January). Things were going well, so I decided to get in a ride.

Initially I planned to go to Lead Follow or Get Out of My Way in Arizona. Unfortunately, as the date approached, I realized Hoss's Coggins test was far out of date, and we didn't have time to get a new one. So, I decided we'd go to Sesenta Años in Santa Barbara.

I was feeling a little ambitious, since the ride is a multi-day, and thought to take DC for a limited distance ride as well. Unfortunately, she was having a terrible time with lameness, and it became evident her saddle had a lot to do with it. So, she stayed home with Cthulhu and Hoss and I headed to Santa Barbara.

My husband had come home from work for his regular two weeks off a few days earlier, and he wanted to go with us. He had an important doctor appointment on Friday, so we didn't get to the first day. My plan was to ride Saturday in the 50 and Sunday in the LD.

It's been a long time since I've done much in terms of endurance riding. As a result, I forgot my video camera *and* my still camera. Fortunately I did have my phone and was able to get a few pictures.

We were very late arriving in camp on Friday night, mostly due to my GPS suddenly developing a mean streak. I had put in the address, but it wanted us to go up the 5, and that wasn't happening. Ultimately it ended up sending us over 100 miles out of our way and running us into the most bizarre places where no horse trailer should attempt to travel.

Because we were so late, I picked up my paperwork and took it with me back to camp. We got camp set up and went to bed.

I got up early in the morning and fed Hoss as usual, thinking ride start would be 7am. I filled out my paperwork and took it to Annie. It was a good thing I went when I did. Turned out the ride started at 6am! I had twenty minutes to get Hoss tacked up and vetted.

It was still pretty dark when I walked back over with Hoss in tow to vet in and head out on trail. I heard Cheri Briscoe, owner of Echo, who is one of Hoss's best friends, talking in the darkness. I called out to her and we were able to chat a moment. The drawback of this was Echo and Hoss seeing each other. They were both very thrilled, but Cheri does not like to let Echo socialize, and for that matter, I'm not a fan of letting Hoss socialize, either. Cheri pulled Echo away while I led Hoss to Alina for vetting. When I trotted him out, he was still in a snit about Echo, and he bucked his way along beside me.

We walked around waiting for the trail to open for a while. Hoss was pretty amped, but he was being a pretty good boy. It's nice to have a horse who will obey even when he can barely control himself.

The trail opened and we started on our way. Pretty early on, I discovered there's a skill I haven't gotten back since the hip replacement: I can't stop a horse cantering without jumping in his face! Usually Hoss will slow back down at the slightest suggestion, but he wasn't having it this day. I wound up letting him get away with his version of bolting several times before I was able to at least talk him into not doing it.

We were going at a pretty good clip, and we met up with another horse and rider we've been with before (Joan and Dodge). Hoss and Dodge, when it's just them, are reasonably well matched. The biggest difference is that, while Hoss will give a solid 5%, Dodge will put in 20%. Dodge's trot is generally faster than Hoss's, but if it's just the two of them he'll slow down and let Hoss catch up.

This ride turned out to have some pretty spectacular hills. Unfortunately Hoss and I had been training for Lead Follow, a pretty flat, low elevation ride. Sesenta Años is much hillier and much more elevation change. It started to tell on Hoss pretty early.

We came into the vet check at just shy of 25 miles at 9:30. Hoss took a few minutes to come down, while Dodge was down right away. This meant Dodge would leave the vet check about 5 minutes before we did. I was kinda okay with this, as Hoss simply wasn't ready for a ride quite that strenuous at the pace Dodge can do it.

The perversity of horse

Hoss was not especially interested in his bran mash, but ate his alfalfa relatively well, and was drinking just fine. He was pretty interested in the dry grass! When our hold was over, I got him ready and we headed back out. By this point, Dodge and Joan were long gone.

Without the motivation of another horse, Hoss was slower and more manageable. I was OK with this.

The loop after lunch included a long (about 10 miles) stretch with no water and a whole lot of climbing. I really knew Hoss was feeling it when we got to the top of a hill, ready to go down, and he just stopped and looked at me. I ended up leading him quite a bit, as I just knew he was feeling a bit humbled by the experience.

We climbed out of the section without water with Hoss feeling like he was gonna die. I had given him a dose of electrolytes, which had helped, and he really needed water. Finally there was a water tank, and he was able to get a good, solid drink.

Once he'd tanked up, Hoss was much happier and picked up the pace for a time. We were trotting along well and getting close to the finish when he just quit on me. Chalking it up to a combination of under condition and lack of company, I got off and led him.

After we'd been walking a while, and he had showed no interest and moving on, Echo caught up to us. Thinking he might be motivated if he was with his friend, I hopped on and asked him to move out. He did not feel right. He felt lame.

I got back off and looked him over. He had sprung a shoe, and now was moving stupid. I continued leading him, sure we would be disqualified for lameness at the end.

We trudged into camp and walked up to Alina for our vetting out. I was tired and sore, and so was Hoss. When Alina asked how the day went, I admitted neither of us had been truly ready for this particular ride, and told her Hoss's right front shoe was sprung.

Hoss is truly an interesting character. The last time I had looked at him trot, he looked dead lame to me. When I trotted him for Alina, I swear he knew what was at stake. He shuffled along and disguised his problem well enough for Alina to say he looked normal to her. I just shook my head and took him back to the trailer.

A lovely sunset in camp

Our original plan had been 50 on Saturday and an LD on Sunday. With a sprung shoe, moving on it for well over 4 miles, and no way to fix the shoe anyway, we decided we'd be going home in the morning.

When I went to settle my entry fees, Annie handed me a couple of boxes and a mug. All the items involved were awards from the XP rides Hoss and I had completed in 2013.  We brought home a *lot* of stuff.

Awards from individual rides in 2013

Our awards for Gold Medal on the XP -- over 1,000 miles!

 *It took me a little while to get to writing this post. I felt the need to figure out how to do a tilde before I wrote it. My father was a Border Patrol officer, and having grown up in Southern California I understand the significance of the tilde. It utterly changes the meaning of the word. My father had this story to tell:

While out with a bunch of rookies, a group of illegals (that's what we called them way back then) was apprehended. One of the rookies went to questioning one of the illegals. This is how that conversation went:

Rookie: Cuantos anos tiene?

Illegal: (looking confused and perhaps a little offended) Solo uno señor!

Because "años" is years; "anos" is anuses! The rookie's question literally translated as "How many anuses do you have." Yup, I'd be confused and horrified! 

Collecting Wet Saddle Blankets

Since she clearly had no interest in being a mother, I had DC shod when Cthulhu was three weeks old. She had long since dried, and I had already ridden her a couple of times. I just couldn't put many miles on her or go very fast, as she let me know her feet were tender.

Of course, raising her foal myself with the help of Hoss takes up a lot of my time, and means I can't leave for extended periods in order to ride her. So I've really only been able to get a few decent conditioning rides on her in the last several weeks.

Once a horse is green broke and knows the basics, the next step is just to ride them and let them gain experience. It's often referred to as "collecting wet saddle blankets." If a horse is having problems with some aspects of riding, like crossing water or negotiating obstacles, the advice is often just to ride the horse, and ride it enough to sweat up a saddle blanket. This is what we're doing.

The day after DC got her shoes it wasn't too hot to ride, but it was too hot for dogs (specifically, Sam, the brindle, whose haircoat is very thin). So I loaded DC in the trailer and took her to Hollenbeck Canyon. It was a reasonably pleasant day to ride, and Hollenbeck Canyon is close enough to home I can get out there, ride, and get home before it's time to feed Cthulhu again.

Setting out from the house for our first ride after shoes

 This being the longest ride DC would do since having Cthulhu, we mostly went slow. We did the 6 mile loop, and started to the West. Usually I go East. I wanted to hit the flatter area early, while she still had energy. We had a pleasant ride, about half walking. We trotted a bunch on the front part, then had a nice little canter for a while before we walked most of the rest of the way back to the trailer.

After our ride at Hollenbeck

Since then, we've ridden twice at home, doing short, fast rides. Run up the hill, trot on the flats, run the last little flat, walk home. That's about three miles total. We also went out with Beth on a client's horse, Tecate, on the Alpine trails. We didn't go out for long, but it was experience. DC had a lot to say about the idea of riding on the road (in the middle, dammitall), what part of a trail she'll walk on (if there's a berm, by god she's walking on the berm!), going around logs (she wants to go over, damn it, and she doesn't care how stupid it is), and backing up on trail. We ended up in a dead end, and she was flummoxed as to how to turn around on a narrow trail with brush on all sides. So we ended up backing up until it was wide enough to turn around.

We went out to the steel bridge with Wendy on Hoss and had a nice hour and a half ride with the dogs. We needed to wear the dogs down for company later in the day, and had limited time to do it. Unfortunately, I lost my handheld GPS that day. I laid it on DC's saddle while I handed Wendy the keys to the truck. I didn't have pockets, and I wanted the keys where they couldn't be made off with by a silly mare. When I went back to DC, I forgot I'd set the GPS on her, and led her over the bridge to mount up on the other side. It wasn't until we'd gotten to where we were turning around that I realized it wasn't where I thought it was. By the time we got back, someone had swiped it from wherever it had fallen.

Coming on down to load up.

Our latest ride was again with Wendy on Hoss. First we went to see Beth so Wendy could have a lesson. While Wendy certainly isn't a dismal rider, she needed some help. She learned a lot, and Hoss showed how grateful he was for the improvement by giving her a very excellent ride in Cuyamaca. We walked the whole 8 miles, as DC still needs to build up her muscles. Both horses had a good time. DC led the first half, and Hoss took over when we were turning back toward the trailer and DC was starting to tire a bit.

And Baby Makes Three

As mentioned before, I decided last year to breed DC. Knowing I would be facing hip replacement surgery, it seemed the ideal time for her to have a baby.

On July 14, Cthulhu arrived.

Now, there's a bit more to the story than just yay he's here!

I had moved DC to the pasture Hoss usually occupies, and rather than moving him out, since they both seemed to want to be together I made them a deal: if they could behave themselves, they could stay together. The pen was ready for the arrival of the foal, with four foot high boards attached to the interior. They really only needed to be two feet high, but my husband didn't want to cut the boards and it wasn't a big deal how high the boards were. Besides, we'd end up with extra wood for other projects.

I checked DC over carefully on July 13. She was waxing up just a little bit. Her bags were still underdeveloped, and she hadn't softened. I checked her again right before going to bed. Still, she didn't look like she was going to be having a baby anytime in the next day. I went to bed, confident things were fine.

In the morning I arose late, inordinately tired at, 7am. Got the coffee going, gave the little dog his pills, took mine, let the ferret out, and stepped out to take care of the chickens and ducks. The duck hen had recently settled on a clutch of 16 eggs, so I walked over to check on her.

The duck pen is located right next to the pasture. I could see DC calmly eating close to the house. Hoss was off somewhere out of sight.

After I finished the birds, I went back inside and out the front door to tend to the horses. The dogs started up barking, and Mac in particular was making a lot of noise. It was the "intruder alert" bark they use to alert me to such things as hawks, owls, and coyotes. And they were persistent, and frantic. I dropped the wheelbarrow to check things out.

The dogs came running up to me as I entered the pasture, excited as all get out. DC looked at me calmly and went back to eating last night's leftovers.

There, at the far end of the outside of the corral, was a rather confused, freaked out foal.

The first picture of Cthulhu

I was as startled as I possibly could be. Hoss came over to me. I'm not sure what he was trying to communicate to me.

It didn't take me long to deduce DC hadn't been doing a fantastic job at motherhood. I knew we had a bit of a job ahead of us. I collected her halter and moved her into the corral, figuring it was easier to get her in first and tie her off to the fence while I went to get the foal.

While I was haltering DC, Sam went around the corral and back into the pasture, coming in behind the foal. He started harassing the poor little thing, and wasn't responding to my remonstrations. Hoss glanced at me, and I got the message: Do you want me to take care of that? I gestured to Hoss and he took off to chase the dogs off the foal.

DC compliantly went into the corral and I left her there to retrieve the youngster. By this time Hoss had deterred the dogs and the foal was standing near the water tank. At this point I finally thought to snap a picture of him.

I approached him and got my arms around his chest and butt. He was still freaked out from the dogs but really took being handled quite well, far better than one would expect for a foal's first handling, especially under the circumstances. It took a little doing, but I got him walked into the corral.

Now for the hard part: getting DC to accept the foal. In most cases of rejection, the mare is afraid of the foal. Having never seen another mare with a foal, she doesn't understand what's going on and once she's past the instinctual cleaning effort and the foal gets up, she freaks. In DC's case, it wasn't fear. It was downright hatred. Fear I can work with. Hatred is a bit tougher.

That tail says it all.

I untied DC and left the lead rope over her back so I could quickly gain control of her if necessary and started making phone calls. The first was to a close neighbor and friend who is a horsey person, hoping she might be able to help restrain DC for the foal to nurse. The second was to trainer and owner of the foal's sire, Beth. It would take Beth some time to get there. My neighbor and her niece arrived in rather short order.

While waiting for help to arrive, I put out the horses' breakfasts, then went into the house to put on proper shoes and get my very low-tech milking device.

Some years ago, I toyed with getting into dairy goats. It quickly became obvious manual milking was going to be extremely difficult for me. I looked online, and found the Henry Milker. It's a simple device which creates suction and delivers the milk into a mason jar. Best of all, it works on pretty much any land mammal.

Once my neighbor and her niece arrived, we tried to restrain DC and get the foal near to her. It became clear quickly she had driven him off enough to make him beyond wary of his own mother. The least warning from her resulted in the foal retreating. We decided to get some milk replacer. The little guy was extremely hungry, and we weren't getting any cooperation from DC without the assistance of plenty of drugs.

My neighbor's niece sitting with Cthulhu

All this time, Hoss was standing outside the corral looking on. Every time DC reacted negatively toward her foal, Hoss would give her the stink eye.

Beth arrived and we continued to work on getting DC acclimated. By this time I'd managed to milk her a bit and we put that in the bottle for the foal. He took the bottle readily and had a very good suck reflex. He laid down and got up several times and seemed quite strong.

I called the vet when the office opened, and the vet arrived a few hours later. She checked out the foal and checked out DC. I had rescued the placenta from the dogs, but they'd already done some damage by the time it occurred to me to collect it. There was enough to be reasonably sure DC had cleaned just fine, and the ensuing days showed that to be the case.

Figuring out life

Then we got to the difficult part. The vet sedated DC and the three of us got to work trying to get the foal nursing. We had a couple of problems. One was the sheer size of the foal in relation to DC. He was so tall at birth he couldn't walk under his mom, had she been inclined to allow him close enough to try. Another, by this time she had been nasty enough to him he was extremely reluctant to approach her. Her dislike of him was so extreme, and her actions in driving him off so strong, the least movement, swish of the tail or squeal resulted in him backing way off.

DC was pretty heavily sedated. We held up a front foot and guided the foal to try to nurse. One person would stand on DC's opposite side and entice the foal to reach under using the bottle he had by this time started using. All the while, DC was aggressively swishing her tail (we would hold onto it), and she bit more times in half an hour than she had in the entirety of her prior life. I think she got all of us at least once. She broke the skin on the back of my hand. I was ready to get a corral panel and create a squeeze, tying her individual limbs to the panels.

All this time Hoss looked on. He wanted in the corral. He wasn't hysterical or anything. His behavior was calm. So long as humans were with the baby, he seemed perfectly content to look on.

Hoss comforting 2-day-old Cthulhu

Eventually, the vet needed to move on, and we were decidedly unsuccessful in getting DC to nurse her foal. Beth and I had been looking over the vet's head while she gave us optimistic talk and shaking our heads. There was no way this cowbird of a mare was going to take care of this foal.

Beth had to get on with her day, so I was left on my own with DC, the foal, and Hoss. I desperately needed to go inside and have some breakfast and maybe pee. My intuition told me not to leave DC and her foal alone. I let Hoss into the corral.

No sooner did I turn my back after latching the corral gate than DC turned, ears pinned, teeth bared, and charged the foal. I hollered, but it was Hoss who's intervention saved the day. He barged into her, bit her, and turned her off the foal. I thanked him profusely, and ran DC out of the corral, leaving the foal with Hoss.

Hoss and Cthulhu after an exercise session

In the month since Cthulhu's birth, he's been thriving, although he's thin compared to foals of the same age on their dams. He got a little cold which both adult horses had and was mild for the older ones, but for him was hard. He still has a little cough. When the vet (different than had already seen him for his first visits) saw him, he complimented me on Cthulhu's condition, saying he's never seen an orphan foal look that good.

Raising an orphan foal is a labor intensive task. During the first 10 days, he had to be fed every two hours, day and night. It felt as if as soon as he was fed and everything was cleaned up it was time to get another bottle ready.

Close up of a little nose 

In the first days, I would feed Cthulhu then milk DC. During the first two days, I left DC in the pasture and Hoss and Cthulhu in the corral. I'd have to let Hoss out from time to time, as he would get frustrated and anxious if left in the corral too long. DC went completely dry by day 3. At that point, I moved her back into her separate pasture.

The only formula I could get in town was this multi-species stuff. The list of animals it was intended for was nearly endless. I was surprised it didn't include giraffe and rhinoceros. It was clearly not ideal. I was able to order Foal Lac online. It took forever to arrive, but it did. He's now going through it at about 2 gallons per day.

Who could resist that face? Other than DC, but she doesn't count

After a while, I constructed a bottle rack so Cthulhu could eat at will. It worked pretty well for some time, until he started chewing on the nipple and spilling more than he ate. Then he started pulling the nipple off the bottle, a true waste. I went back to holding bottles for him, at this point every 3 hours but not needing a feeding overnight (hallelujah!).

Just before he turned 4 weeks old, I saw Cthulhu drinking water. I devised a method by which I place a small bucket in a larger one with ice packs, put milk in the smaller bucket, and hang it in the corral. Cthulhu was terribly unhappy with this initially. He missed the suck satisfaction of the bottle, not to mention being able to chew on the nipple and sooth his teething gums. After a few days of trying to suckle on anything he could get his mouth on, he settled on chewing the wood panels in the corral, copying Uncle Hoss's termite behavior.

Hoss as neurotic body guard

Once he got used to the bucket, I was able to spend significantly less time with Cthulhu. This means he has less social interaction with people, and has to get his social needs filled more often by Hoss. It's harder than it sounds. As incredible as Hoss as been, he's a boy. He feels a strong need to defend and protect his herd. He has a tendency to keep Cthulhu in the corral while he "patrols" the rest of the pasture. Hoss checks on Cthulhu frequently and grooms him, but Cthulhu doesn't follow him around like he would his mother, and Hoss doesn't follow him as his mother would. At least Cthulhu has Hoss to care about him.

All of this happened when a bunch of other, unrelated chaos started. This chaos involved the moving of horses. The moving of horses meant I was driving. Hauling horses on minimal sleep is not OK. Enter Beth and my son and my "volunteer" daughter. They took the night shifts before those days I would be driving long distances with precious cargo so I could at least not get up, even if I didn't sleep great.

"Hey, mom, what's up?"

One of the drawbacks of having Hoss as his caretaker is Hoss's distinct lack of enthusiasm for free exercise. This means I have to go out and have games of Chase the Baby. Cthulhu understands the lunge whip, but he seems to have absorbed Hoss's lack of enthusiasm for running about. Add to that being born a little early and an orphan, and I think I'm getting more exercise than he is. Hoss gets pretty funny in these sessions. He'll run ahead until he thinks Cthulhu has had enough, at which point he'll drop behind and try to keep me from pushing the baby anymore.

Post-exercise relaxing

I do have to watch Hoss very carefully, especially if other people are around. He's okay with me spending time with the baby, for the most part. When strangers are here, it's not quite the same. The other night I had to carry a whip with me so he wouldn't keep sidling up to the very non-horse-savvy couple who was visiting. The only time Hoss gets upset about my interaction with Cthulhu is if I take him out of the pasture. He got really nuts when I started halter breaking Cthulhu. Anything that upsets the baby, makes Hoss a nutjob. I had to close the corral gate so I could work with Cthulhu without having to keep one eye on a very unhappy Hoss.

Cthulhu is starting to eat just a little bit of solid food. Not much yet. Hopefully he will start being more adventurous soon. I need to find a feed I can mix with some of his formula to entice him more. Something that won't make Hoss sick in the unlikely event he gets into it too. With Hoss's allergies, my policy is to not have any food on the property any given horse can't have. He's allergic to oats and rice bran, which are in a great many processed horse feeds. In my experience, neither of these foods is nutritionally necessary for horses.

My husband helped me set up a little "creeping" area for Cthulhu. Hoss is really good at respecting a fence. At Descanso, we had set up a pen for him with three t-posts, the side of the trailer, and some ratchet straps. For the creeping area, we put in a t-post and attached ratchet straps to it and the corral panels just high enough for Cthulhu to walk under, but not Hoss. This has worked very well. We also set up a shade shelter so the milk stays more or less in the shade. Hoss is fantastic about not challenging the "fence," enough that I think he just might be convinced to leave the baby's food alone, although not easily. I started putting Hoss's food in the corral as well, so he's eating at least near Cthulhu.

Cthulhu has already been in the trailer. My husband put a board from the corral in the trailer, creating a solid panel which Cthulhu can't get under. It was a nerve-wracking first ride. When we arrived at our destination, Cthulhu was standing in the corner of the trailer and looked out when I opened the gate as if getting in a large, loud box, having the door closed, a whole lot of weird moving going on, and upon the door opening again finding oneself in an entirely new place was totally what he expected to happen.

Hoss checking on Cthulhu while he naps

This little horse was born about 100 years old. He's got no spook, he's friendly, he hasn't kicked or bitten. Despite their rough start, he's comfortable with the dogs, who now protect him as ferociously as Hoss. I am amazed every day by this little foal, although I certainly hope he shows more energy when he grows up!

I have my suspicions as to why Cthulhu was born early and DC didn't look remotely like she was ready. I don't think she was ready. She had developed rain rot a couple of weeks before she gave birth. Rain rot is one of those things which doesn't just happen. It develops when the horse's immune system is compromised, such as when exposed to a virus.

Another clue is, despite very regular milking, DC was completely dry at three days. Her bags never developed properly. She wasn't producing milk when I found her. The largest amount of milk we got out of her was after the vet gave her pitocin.

Remember Hoss getting sick after Descanso? The two were living separately at the time, but I fear I was not nearly so careful as I ought to have been. I was using the same wheelbarrow to feed both horses, the same scrub brush in water buckets, touching them both. My strong suspicion is, she got the cold, but she didn't show obvious symptoms. She was withdrawn the last couple of weeks before the birth, but it was easy to chalk it up to the end stages of pregnancy. She was so huge, the baby so big, it was easy to think of course she was withdrawn and slow. She felt like crap! Well, it was more than simple pregnancy. I suspect she gave birth early to a very fortunately strong foal who survived in spite of the stress his mother's body was undergoing.


Now, as the the name:

Cthulhu was chosen early in DC's pregnancy to keep a theme going. His father is Demon. His mother is Demonchild. Cthulhu seemed appropriate.

Cthulhu at one month

2015 Descanso Endurance Ride

With Mom in the hospital, on a ventilator, and the future uncertain, I somehow still managed to saddle up Hoss and head out on the trail. Perhaps because of what was happening with Mom, it wasn't until later I recognized the small voice in my head telling me something wasn't quite right.

Well, of course something wasn't right.

MY MOM WAS ON A VENTILATOR!

The voice couldn't quite penetrate to tell me it was my horse it was talking to me about.

My level of distraction caused me to forget my video camera, so there are no images from the ride. Not that it matters much. There's enough old video and pictures from this ride no new ones are particularly interesting.

Hoss hadn't eaten as well as usual, and he hadn't drank as much water as he normally does. I really didn't think much of it; he's not so consistent for this to cause me to panic, but I did note it. He was also off his stomach supplement, so it was easy to chalk it up to that and decide I would just have to manage him carefully through the ride.

The start went well. Hoss threw a bit of a fit, but settled in easily enough. We kept up a good, easy trot over most of the morning.

Hoss does get a little race brain, and when we were passed by a pair of riders he got hot. He wanted to catch those horses, and no amount of me telling him it was hopeless would convince him to give it up. It was tripping in a culvert at the canter that finally slowed him down.

As we rode along the first section of single track, we came upon a rider sans horse. It turned out someone had allowed their horse to run up on hers, and her horse had spooked, dumping her, and running on. We continued past her with assurances we would keep an eye out for the loose horse and relief she seemed to be okay.

We kept up a steady trot pace over much of the trail, neither slowing or speeding up appreciably. When we passed the photographer, we had caught up to another horse which stopped at the water trough just past the photographer. We stopped alongside them. Hoss dipped his nose in the water, but seemed more interested in keeping with the other horse. This should have been a clue. He didn't drink at all before moving down the trail.

The other horse was well ahead of us even before we crossed the highway and continued on our way. Hoss kept up his pace cheerfully enough, but I was watching him carefully now. He didn't seem quite right, but I thought I could manage him through the ride if I was careful.

At the top of the hill, before we turned toward Harvey Moore Trail, Hoss took a big drink at the tanks.This was a relief. If he continued to perk up, we would be able to finish.

Several horses arrived at the tanks shortly after we did, and once Hoss had finished drinking we moved on. He moved out slowly, as is typical if he knows there are horses behind him. Eventually they caught up, I let them pass, and we continued on our way.

The Harvey Moore Trail has a lot of rock and few areas where trotting is advisable. We were careful, trotting where we could and walking where we should. Hoss was willing enough to move out, though there were a few moments he didn't feel quite right. So long as he seemed reasonably cheerful, I wasn't worried.

We pulled in to the vet check at 8:30, a very respectable time for us. But it wasn't great. Hoss passed up food and water. He wanted to wander around. Nothing could capture his attention. He was interested in a bran mash with oats in it (which I shouldn't let him eat; he's allergic to oats), but not for long. The only thing he really wanted was carrots. It took him longer than usual to come down to criteria.

Once Hoss recovered, I let him eat what he would, pretty sure at this point we were going back to camp in a trailer.

I took Hoss to the vet, and as expected, it wasn't awesome. On the trot out, it was like taking my horse for a drag. As is typical at these local rides, it felt like a lot of hemming and hawing and trying to get me to do it on my own, which I really did. I said if they didn't like the way he was going, I trusted their judgement. We went back to camp in the trailer.

Under the circumstances, I loaded up as quickly as I could and got Hoss home so I could drive to La Jolla and see my mother. A craptacular end to the day.

A couple of days after the ride, Hoss started blowing snot. It was clear he had an upper respiratory infection. Due to Mom's hospitalization, he was effectively on the Get Better Or Die plan, but he did, indeed get better.