A blog post for Natalie

Mike asks Middlest to please rub his forehead.

The internet is so amazing when it comes to finding connections. Facebook has put me back in the lives of many friends of the past and made them friends again in the present. And if you google "Mikey, Last Chance Corral" you get a blogpost from a certain Cowfeathers Farm at the top of the list....
After my return from NM, I logged onto the blog and happened to check back to comments on a previous blog- the one about apples, cider, etc. and found a comment from a young woman named Natalie. She is the previous owner of Mike, Mikey, Michael... our energetic and wonderful thoroughbred gelding. Mikey earned a post last spring upon his arrival, and then various other posts as he carried Middlest through her first horse show, and the county fair, jumping lessons with me, a few too-slow-for Mike- trail rides and a hunter pace more to his liking as it included going fast.
I was so pleased to hear from Natalie. As you may recall, Mike came to us from a wonderful rescue called "Last Chance Corral", underweight and as with any new home adjustment for the delicate- worried. Six months at Cowfeathers, and he is settling in nicely. I have seen that it takes most horses that have been displaced at least a year to really feel secure again in their new herd and home. Heck, Oslo is just now really getting settled and it has been a year and a half. Samantha was a bit tougher nut, and took more like 2 1/2 years to earn her trust.
In any case, Mike has mostly stopped cribbing (a "vice" as horse people call it, where a horse grabs, usually wood, in his front teeth, pulls his chin towards his chest and sucks in air. I apparently releases endorphins and makes them feel good, but also is bad for longevity and the wood!). He still loves to run, and when put into the pasture will often run circles around the other horses before settling down to grazing- although he almost always rolls first. Often will roll, stay on the ground and crop all the grass around him and then get up. He loves to be ridden, and is very happy to just be tacked up and walked around if that is all Middlest is up for that day. In the past two months, Mike has learned about life outside of his stall. For the first four months, he felt safest in his stall, but the other horses like to hang out in their paddocks, and he can't see them if he's inside and they're out. This caused him great distress, and he would pace around his stall until he was so worked up he would make a panicky whinny and race outside to check that he wasn't alone. But, then, back to the stall. All peeing and pooping were done in his stall. Tradition? Fastidiousness? I'm not sure, because now that he is spending most of his time out in the sunshine too, and I feed him his grain out in the paddock, he will often pee in his grain bin. It takes some serious aim in such a large space to hit the grain bin. All that effort seems to be saying something. Protest? "Take this away- I don't want it in my area."? "I love pee flavored grain?" Maybe he just doesn't like the bin being clean, or the smell of the soap. (Which, crazily enough I have switched my cleaning products to see if that has something to do with it. Alas, it has not cured the problem yet.) In any case, all horses have their quirks and personalities, and Mike's is fun to watch unfurl. Originally, he was very protective of his hind end, and would flail at me a bit with his hooves when I went to groom anywhere past his croup. Time and patience cure most everything, and that hazard has disappeared. He puts up with all my grooming, picking, prodding, squashing- because that's how I roll. And he relaxes now, even when I stretch out his poll, (the joint where skull meets neck) or test his back. Middlest continues to bond with him as well, and he learns so quickly, he is great fun to work with and teach. I have started working him a bit in dressage, and at first it was like riding an old post. Straight and wooden... but now he is more like a branch, willing to bend and flex. It all comes down to trust. I trust him to get me over the fences I ask him to jump. I trust him to take care of my precious Middlest. He trusts us to be gentle, and solid, consistent and brave.
Natalie, you did a fine job with Mike. I feel like we have found a treasure. Know that we are sorry for your hardship, life happens, and all God asks is that you do your best with what is before you. Losing Mike was terrible, losing your Dad was worse.  But, Mike has landed in the roses (well, except for the pee in his grain bin) and after 36 years with horses, I understand how delicate they are, how tough they are and how special. He was underweight when we got him- but it has been no easy task to get him to weight, and this boy will never tend to chunky! But he will be cared for, every day, to the best of our abilities.
 There were years there, where I could not afford to care for a horse. I did what I could- mostly getting to ride horses with severe problems, because that what was available. And I worked on my schooling, my relationships with people, growing my family. It took 8 years before I could board lease Sky (oh, my lovely Irish Draft/English TB cross), then gave him up to be a Mom, and another 10 years before having horses of my own again ( and I use "my own" lightly, because Cashew was leased, and I horse-napped Samantha). Life has sine curves, and right now I am in a good place for my horsey self. Move forward, thoughtfully, plan and you will find that part of the sine curve again too, if you strive for it.

Middlest and Mike at a jumping clinic. He's wishing the jump were bigger.

Mike working on bending, and starting to collect.

He loves to canter! He's very forward here.....

Mike and I over fences.