Road Curves Ahead

Lots of changes going on here at Little FloxTail.  The family is going to be relocating to Mountain View California.  Sadly we won't be able to take any of the livestock or even pets since we'll be in the city. Even our dogs are just too country to make that change.  We're starting placement of everyone 6 months in advance so hopefully it'll go smoothly.  The biggest challenge will be our pair of ponies, mother and daughter.  Tess and Claire.

Tess was purchased about 5 years ago with her buddy April.  April was a yearling and Tess was a three year old.  They came from Nebraska, grade ponies (not purebred/papared). They were a grey pair and I had hoped that when the girls grew out of the ponies I could then train them to drive and we could keep them forever. There's always talk about how mean they can be sometimes and how much bad attitude they can have.  I hoped that I was getting them young enough that we could keep them nice and not treat them in ways that would make them mean. The minute they stepped off of their trailer I was in love.  I was quite surprised at how much I loved those two little things right away.  My paint mare Felicity seemed to like them as too and she isn't easily won over.

Tess in her add pic.

April's add pic.

Felcity, Tess and April at our barn

A few months later, just after the new year, I felt like Tess was a little fatter than she really ought to be coming out of winter. I contacted the seller I got them from and they assured me that the mare hadn't been exposed to any stallions.  In April, the day before we were expecting a pretty big spring snow storm, I woke up early and looked out the window.  I'd begun doing a peak to check to see if we would end up with a surprise baby sometime in march. By April I just did it as habit really not expecting much at all.  That morning though there was this tiny little paint foal out there! She'd been kicked out of the corral by my mare who wanted nothing to do with this intruder. My husband and I ran out to get the mare and foal back together and make sure everything was okay.  I frantically messaged a friend about what to do as I'd never had a baby on the place before and wanted to make sure we had all our bases covered. I also knew we didn't have adequate shelter for a brand new baby to ride out a spring storm.  That day I secured a ride and a place at my friend's barn for mom and baby to stay for the week. We would spend that week building the barn that we'd just started a couple days before surprise baby Claire was born.

First pic of mom and baby Claire

Mom and baby Claire less than 24 hours old

Baby Claire getting a ride to my friend's place

During that week of boarding at my friends house she spent a lot of time watching mom and baby and snapping pictures. Just before she was going to bring them home she mentioned that she thought maybe Claire was blind. She wasn't running into anything but, something didn't seem right.  So I scheduled an appointment for the vet to come out after they came back home. He did come out and after an examination of her eyes discovered that one eye was missing bits of her nerve basically causing a detached retina and blindness.  The other eye seemed to be affected by congenital glaucoma which would result in blindness in that eye as well.  A few weeks later we saw a different vet and he agreed with the findings of the first vet. I spoke to a few trusted friends about what we should do. 

Blind horses and ponies need quite a bit of support and it's a big commitment to hope to assure a quality of life for a blind horse. A companion horse or pony is best to establish early as well so that they have a friend who can be their eyes. We weren't sure if euthanasia should be on the table.  Both vets agreed that it was an option. They also both said that they've seen blind horses lead full happy lives when they were in the right situation. I discussed this all with my incredibly pragmatic husband expecting him to opt for euthanasia. I mean, he's a pragmatist, almost to a fault. His response to the option was to quote a movie he'd seen once: "You don't throw a whole life away just cuz it's banged up a little."   It's from Seabiscuit and it's probably on the list of top five quotes of every equestrian out there. We made the commitment to let this little surprise foal have a full life and to do whatever it took to give her a chance.

Claire about two or three days old

Claire a week old giving her mom trouble

Giving mom more trouble 

Week old Claire napping

I've been agonizing for about a month over this pair. I wasn't sure if I wanted to find them a home together with a private buyer who could handle their situation or if I wanted to go through a rescue, or if I wanted to try to find a reputable sanctuary. There are so many sketchy rescues and sanctuaries I first decided to try the private buyer option.  Every time I took a moment to even ponder the wording of an add of any kind I was just sick over the thought of giving them over to a private owner who may end up with "life" happening just like I did. And by then Claire may be fully blind and even harder to place. Right now Claire can see in the daylight but at night she doesn't leave the barn because she just can't see.

I looked in to a rescue or two but it was scary to think of that as well because it's hard to tell what rescues are reputable and which ones are simply hoarders.  I decided to reach out on a Blind Horses group on Facebook.  I got a response recommending a sanctuary that they'd taken their horse to. I looked them up and spent some days thinking on it. Or rather gathering the courage to contact them and to be ready for the let down. That they couldn't take the pair but could take Claire or that they couldn't take either.  Finally I sent an email explaining the situation. Then I waited. A day later I received an email from the sanctuary saying that they would be able to take BOTH ponies. 

Even now I'm heartbroken and relieved and overjoyed all at the same time. Details have not yet been finalized so I'm also a little guarded. I think the phone call tomorrow to discuss the specifics is going to be the hardest phone call I'll have to make so far. I'm hopeful that a road trip from Wyoming to California with a pair of ponies is on the horizon. Bittersweet couldn't possibly cover all of the feelings involved with this ongoing journey for me and this pair. From her first moments(ish) Claire (Claire Bear as have come to call her) has grown the last four years by the side of my youngest daughter. Tess has given all three of my girls their first pony rides and taught them all what it means to have patience and be tough at the end of a lead rope. Claire loves little girl kisses and hugs and trusts us humans implicitly. She knows her name and the sound of my voice. This is going to be quite the tough road ahead but we are all still committed to doing whatever it takes to make sure this pair has a chance at a really good quality of life, and a long life ahead.

Check back for updates on acceptance into the sanctuary and our journey to get there with these little ladies!

Nothing is Set in Stone Sheep part 3

We had a rough end to summer and beginning of fall.  This post was a hard one and will lack pictures.  One morning I went out to feed the animals and all was well with the tiny flock of sheep and the rest of the critters.  I had chores to run in town so took the littles, had lunch, grabbed groceries and came home.  It was about two on a particularly hot day, hotter than usual.  I went out to let the horses back out onto the pasture and noticed that we lost one of the black ewes.  Not lost as in ran away or stolen but she was laying there in the middle of the pen motionless...unnaturally fat. 

I was shocked and sad and panicked.  The rest of the sheep were fine, I checked and looked for injuries half hoping to find something but half terrified I would.  Nothing. No sign of a struggle.  Just death.  And she was my favorite ewe Rosie.  There's no way to really describe the situation. I was baffled and then immediately began to try to think about her body and what to do.  I was home alone, me and the two girls and this was a 120lb ewe at least.  I told my husband who commutes an hour each way to work.  He was sorry for my loss but, understandably, he was unable to do much.  It was all up to me, at least to drag her body out of the pen.  I still am not sure how I managed to muster the strength but got it done.

That evening we wrapped her up in bags and sent her to the dump. 

Moments like this create all kinds of internal struggles. Worry that it was an illness or toxicity that the rest of the flock may succumb to.  Shock that it happened at all, she was her healthy fine self that very morning. Then comes the self doubt, wondering if I did it because I'm just a bad shepherd, I let her down by missing something.  How could I have missed something?  

Once one processes the loss, one of the hardest ones with a favorite animal on the farm etc... it seems pretty normal to start to wonder and ask yourself.  Is it worth it?  Chores in the dead of winter when the wind chill is -20.  Fixing fence in the heat or cold.  Is it worth the worry that sits in my belly when I hear coyotes howling at night.  After all, it's not like I even get a good cuddle out of the deal.  They run away from me unless I give them treats and even then only get close enough to take it from my hand and then run away.  To medicate and worm and trim feet is a fiasco of a wrestling match.  We don't even have a tractor to dig a big enough hole for them to be buried in...  Is it worth it?  Thee were all the thoughts that went through my head all the rest of that afternoon while I waited for my husband to come home and help me with the rest of the job of disposing of my favorite ewe's body.

I'll spare you the details but I will say, disposing of the body of a farm animal who laid dead, exposed to the sun on a hot hot day is not an easy task.  It's smelly and frankly terrifying if you're like me and have seen the internet's coverage of a particular whale in Japan, in the summer.  It got done.  She was heavy, awkward, gross and loved.  She was ultimately wasted.  One fleece, maybe three "cuddles" and a few hours of joy at watching them on cool mornings run and jump around excited about feeding time. 

The decision was easy after the work of disposing of her body.  No more.  I love the fiber but not enough to keep the sheep that average 120lbs. who run away from me at first glance.  Not enough to spend $40 a head to have them shorn so I can show the wool because they're too big for me to shear myself.  I wanted Shetland sheep to begin with, the smaller breed but because they are generally dual coated it's a big investment to get into the sheep that are fine fleeced and/or guaranteed to be.  It was worth it for me.  Mostly worth it. 

At the urging of a good friend of mine I waited a week or so before I listed what was left of my flock for sale.  I visited a local Shetland breeder who registers her sheep and does micron tests for all of her breeding stock yearly.  I met her sheep, spun some of the wool and knew what I'd known to begin with.  These guys are for me. 

I listed the three remaining sheep and got a few leads but transport was a problem.  Three weeks, maybe four, later I did my morning chores.  It was the morning after an early freeze. The day before that it was 78 degrees.  So, I checked everyone two hours later to make sure they were handling the crazy weather okay.  There was Purl, Rosie's twin.  She was laying motionless and unnaturally fat in their pen.  JUST like her sister.  I did some research and found that bloat can occur due to weather stress.  I also found that it's widely believed that genetics play a role.  Some sheep just have genes that make them more prone to stress bloat.  The instances of stress bloat were exactly like mine.  I had a culprit for why this happened to these sheep.  I also now only have two sheep in their pen.  A very precarious number considering sheep NEED a flock so one loss could be disasterous.  

Back to the Drawing board.

Check back soon.  BIG changes for the fiber farm looking ahead.