Making a Little Girl's Dream Come True

My young friend Jackson is the granddaughter of the folks who own the ranch where I live. Bruce and his late wife Linda came here in 1975 with their herd of pedigree Hereford cattle (for market reasons they later switched to commercial Angus.) Shortly after Bruce and Linda moved here, they built a barn that included a sale ring where they could hold auctions of their Hereford bulls. My ponies spend a lot of time right outside this barn in a paddock, and the Three Sisters herd recently helped one of Jackson’s wishes come true.

Jackson and Madie with a Hereford sign from back in the day when the sale ring was used for selling bulls.

Earlier this year, Bruce and I took Jackson to her first bull sale for her birthday. Bruce usually goes to a half dozen bull sales a year to choose outcrosses for his cow herd. We thought it would be fun for Jackson to see this part of being a rancher since she will one day inherit this place. She got to walk amongst the bulls for sale and then witness the theatrics of the auctioneer’s sing-song voice to encourage bidding. Bruce even let her hold up his buyer’s number to bid. That made her pretty nervous, which I can totally relate to! I get nervous just helping write the checks for the bulls he buys!

When Jackson next visited the ranch, she was helping me with pony chores. As we walked past one of the doors of the barn, she asked what the door was for. It was a good question because it is in an odd place for how the barn is used today. I explained that it was how young bulls entered the sale ring in the barn many years ago. I opened the door to show her the ring and auctioneer’s stand and pointed out the similarities to the bull sale we had gone to a few weeks before. In the course of our conversation, she expressed interest in someday reenacting a sale with ponies.

A few excruciatingly hot months passed, and then on a cool fall day during a visit to the ranch, Jackson decided she would rather do the sale reenactment than ride a pony, which had been her first request after we finished chores. Perhaps the farm equipment auction we had all been to the day before inspired her interest in recreating a sale in the ring. Regardless, I proceeded to help make her wish come true.

The ponies lined up to go in the ring, passing through the small pens that held individual bulls back when the sale ring in the barn was used to sell herefords.

First we closed the gates outside at either end of the overhang. The doors to the ring opened onto the overhang and are how bulls once were moved from paddock to ring and back to paddock again. Then we opened up the two doors for entering and exiting the ring. Inside on the auctioneer’s stand, we upended a bucket for her to stand on because she chose the role of sale announcer. Then, we located a discarded brush that she could use as a microphone. Finally it was time for me to go out and halter the Three Sisters herd and position them to go into the ring.

Madie voluntarily investigating the sale ring!

The overhang has several small holding pens where the bulls were staged for the sale. I decided, though, that they were too small for the ponies, so my plan was to tied them to the fence. Because she presented herself first, I brought Willowtrail Mountain Honey up into the overhang and tied her to the fence. Then I brought Willowtrail Wild Rose up into the overhang. I left the gate from the paddock open behind us, and while I was tying Rose to the fence, I looked back to see that Willowtrail Spring Maiden was curious about the goings-on and had followed us. She proceeded to enter the sale ring on her own, walk around in front of the announcer’s stand and then appear at the exit door, all on her own! After tying Rose to the fence, I haltered Madie and snapped the picture of Jackson and Madie in front of the Hereford sign. Then since the ‘sale’ hadn’t officially started, I tied her to the fence, too. It was quite something to see the Three Sisters positioned for the event!

Each of the Three Sisters went through the ring in front of the sale announcer, AKA Jackson!

Next I took each pony into the ring and gave the ‘announcer’ their color, name, age, and parentage. Jackson then repeated the information to our ‘audience,’ a large stack of hay bales. (I’m sure the resident barn cats were annoyed by our disruption of their quiet!) Madie and Rose willingly entered the ring and stood quietly while awaiting the announcement about them. Honey, though, decided she wanted to use the opposite doors for entering and exiting. I’m not sure if it was the Hereford bull on the sign, the huge difference in light and dark between inside and outside, or the strong smell of feline at one of the doors. Once inside, though, she waited patiently for the ‘announcer’ to do her job. Then I put Honey back outside, and the announcer asked for each pony to be brought back through the ring once more.

Honey took exception to entering the ring through this door. Perhaps it was the picture of the bull?

After the second tour through the ring, I put the ponies back in their paddock, quite pleased with how they’d helped the ‘sale’ be ‘successful.’ As I went back to the barn to close doors and gates, I could hear Jackson still talking in the barn. When I asked what she was doing, she said she was selling the miscellaneous items she found in the auctioneer’s stand. Ah ha! Just like she’d seen at the farm auction the day before!

The Three Sisters in between their two walks through the sale ring.

I have learned that Jackson will often think about things we do together and then later share her impressions of the experience, often with her parents or grandpa. I look forward to hearing whatever she might eventually share about recreating a sale in the ranch barn!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Rose's Independent Streak

I returned home in the late afternoon after a long day, so I was delighted to see my Fell Pony mares Willowtrail Mountain Honey and Willowtrail Spring Maiden grazing in the pasture in front of my house.  I changed my clothes and fed my dogs then headed out with halters and leadropes to take them to the barn, all the time wondering where Willowtrail Wild Rose was.  She had been exercising an independent streak the past few days that was making management by herd – as compared to management of individual ponies – more challenging.

When we got to the barn, Honey called out for her missing sister, and I heard an answering whinny to the south in the distance.  Later I saw Madie looking out in the same vicinity, so I suspected I would find Rose there.  When the dogs and I walked out onto the pasture, though, she wasn’t visible, and I could hear high winds at the top of the hill, meaning she might have taken cover somewhere.  Sure enough, when we got to the base of the hill, I saw her grazing about a hundred yards above me in some trees.  I suggested she might want to come my way as I commenced my walk toward her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of my dogs streaking down the hill about thirty yards away.  Close behind her and closing fast was a larger wild canine.  As it kept getting closer to Tika, I screamed, “No!”  On my second scream, as it was just a body’s length behind her, it turned and streaked back up from where it had come.  Tika, realizing she was no longer being chased, turned and headed back up the hill after it, so I began yelling at her to come to me.  By this time my other dog realized something was going on, and he must have caught a scent because he turned from coming to me and headed back up the hill, so then I started yelling at him, too.  Finally, I got the dogs to stay with me, and I turned my attention back to Rose.

The high winds that had been at the top of the hill had now descended to where we were, giving an additional edge to an already stressful few moments.  When I looked back up the hill, Rose was looking down at me on high alert, perhaps in response to the buffeting wind and perhaps wondering what all the shrieking and barking had been about.  She then started down the hill towards me, for which I was grateful, and I had the presence of mind to pull out my phone and videotape her descent, a screenshot of which is shown here.  As it turned out, she didn’t come to me, again exercising her independent streak.  Fortunately, she headed towards the barn.

As we were approaching the barn, I could see Rose drinking at the waterer.  I walked toward her, with the wind still swirling about, and she turned and indicated she would again be exercising her independent streak and leaving the area.  I was crestfallen, but then I became agitated because my young dog decided to chase her.  He was told to stay at the barn while I went in the direction Rose had gone.  Fortunately, she let me approach and halter her and take her back to the barn, apparently satisfied to be rejoining her herd.  I wish I was as good as these ponies are at letting upsets recede quickly!  I replayed the events in my mind for hours afterward!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

The Grandma Herd Reunited Plus One

For the past several months, the Grandma herd has consisted of an 18-year-old Fell Pony mare and a three, two, and one-year-old Fell Pony filly. It’s clear then, why I call it the Grandma herd; Bowthorne Matty is the only adult and has long been the head of the herd even when with older ponies.

When Matty was a few weeks out from foaling, I began putting her in a foaling shed for part of each day, separating her from the herd, to accustom her to the environment and routine. When Matty was in the foaling shed, the three youngsters would often call to her and stand in the corner of the paddock nearest her for most of the day, seemingly lost without their leader. In contrast, when she was with them, they would all typically stand companionably together in a shed when they were in, or would roam the hills together when they were out.

After Matty foaled, the three youngsters were understandably curious. The foaling shed is in the hill pasture, so when they were out on the hill and Matty was in the shed, they would stay within sight of the foaling shed to watch Matty and her foal Amanda. I was surprised; I thought they would eventually lose interest or at least be drawn farther away by better grazing. But for several days, they stayed within sight of the foaling shed whenever they were out on the hill.

I was equally surprised by the behavior of Matty and Amanda. When the three youngsters were in the paddocks and I let Matty and Amanda out on the hill, Matty and Amanda spent all day close to the barn where they could see the youngsters. I thought Matty would take Amanda out on to the hill where Matty could graze; that had been the behavior of many other mares that have foaled here.

And while Amanda had never been part of the Grandma herd, she was clearly interested in the other ponies, watching them closely and sometimes staying behind at the fence when I would lead her mother away. It was obvious to me that my management was disrupting a very tightly knit herd. Usually I wait for a few weeks before introducing a foal to a herd of youngsters. I like the foal to be fully used to life out of the womb and on the pasture and around the many hazards that are part of life out on the hill before subjecting them to the playful antics of young ponies or dominance games of older ponies. But since all five ponies were indicating that they missed their herd, I decided to see how it would go to reunite the Grandma herd plus one (Amanda.)

I chose to do the reunion in the barn paddock where I could keep an eye on the herd dynamics and intervene if necessary. The three youngsters had been in the paddock all day, so at the late afternoon feeding, I brought Matty and Amanda in to join them. As I expected, the youngsters expressed curiosity about Amanda and Matty let them know in no uncertain terms to keep their distance from her daughter. But since Matty seemed to have the situation well under control, an hour or so later, I let them all out onto the hill for the night.

It was fascinating to see Matty lead the way and the three youngsters follow as they had always done, with Amanda staying close to her mom. Before long Matty was leading the herd up onto the hill where she hadn’t been since Amanda was born. I felt happiness with the decision I’d made.

One helpful consequence of reuniting the Grandma herd has been instilling in Amanda the importance of paying attention to her mother’s leadership. When it was just the two of them, I would often see Amanda leading her mom around, exploring new territory and stretching her legs with Matty in pursuit. When she repeated that behavior around the youngsters, she quickly learned that they would chase her and scare her, teaching her the value of her mother’s leadership and protective/safe circle. Because someday Amanda will need to follow the lead of a human partner and find safety with them, it’s wonderful to have this lesson happening when she’s young and impressionable so it can be reinforced later rather than taught for the first time. And it helped with our next trailer loading lesson! Where before she had gone wandering off about four times before following her mother into the trailer for a ride, now she follows her right in!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

You can read more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

A Search at Twilight

I knew it could be an interesting end to the day when a thunderstorm rolled in about the time I was supposed to head out to do the last of the day’s chores. We had a much-needed good rain, and the temperatures dropped a blessed twenty degrees, so I wasn’t complaining. Nonetheless, I knew I would have just enough daylight left to bring a Fell Pony herd in off the hill if all went well.

When the lightning and thunder seemed sufficiently distant, I headed out to scan the hill for the Three Sisters herd in the low light. They were nowhere on the lowlands nor were they visible on the uplands. I went to the barn to do some of the chores there, hoping my noise would bring them in or at least make them visible. I also started calling, which I rarely have to do, to let them know I was serious about them needing to come to the barn. I sighed several times when there wasn’t an answering whinny or the sound of hoofbeats heading my way.

Willowtrail Spring Maiden, my thirteen-year-old Fell Pony mare, is the nearest to the camera and the one that responded to my calls from the barn by emerging from this hole on the hill long enough for me to see her from the lowlands.

As I took a feed bucket to my stallion, a part of the hill came into view that hadn’t been visible from the barn. I saw a dark spec, so I went and got binoculars to confirm that indeed it was a pony high on the hill who apparently had heard me calling. I immediately set my chores aside to gather my dogs and head out with a halter to climb the hill. I memorized the spot because the pony had disappeared.

When I had climbed a couple hundred feet in elevation to just below the spot where I had last seen the pony, I started worrying that they had gone elsewhere because they were nowhere to be seen. There’s no way I would have enough light to track them if they’d moved. Then I climbed a bit further because there was a small ridge I couldn’t see over, and a pony came into view. I thanked Willowtrail Spring Maiden profusely for hearing my call and making their position apparent. A few more steps, and the other two ponies were visible too.

I then walked past Willowtrail Mountain Honey, giving her a sideways greeting, towards my object of interest, the head of the herd, Willowtrail Wild Rose. I haltered Rose and started leading her down the hill. Her behavior was odd. She stopped every fifty yards or so for no apparent reason. Before long, it became clear what she was trying to communicate: the other two mares weren’t following. Normally they fall in right behind Rose in this sort of situation, but the cool temperatures and abundant grass high on the hill were apparently too much enticement.

I can barely see my house from where I’m standing taking this photo, so I will have to find a spot in the lowlands that gives me a better view, perhaps from the house behind mine.

Rose and I got to the barn, and I finished my chores there, calling to the ponies on the hill again and fully expecting to see them appear at the barn. Finally, when I finished chores and it was nearly dark, I realized I would have to go get Honey and Madie off the hill. I called frequently as I headed out from the barn and walked the quarter mile to the base of the hill. As we arrived there, my dogs alerted me to movement, and I saw with relief that the ponies were descending and making their way to me. When they trotted to me, I thanked Madie once again because I’m sure she started descending when she heard me calling. I then haltered Honey as the more dominant of the two. and she and I walked to the barn with Madie leading the way.

In hindsight, of course, I can see how things could have gone more smoothly. I could have taken a second halter to bring Honey in too rather than assume that she would follow Rose as she usually does. I could have listened to Rose’s communication about the other two not following and figured out a way to bring them along somehow. I do wonder why Rose only called once to her friends, despite me asking several times if she couldn’t, please, use her leadership skills to encourage them to follow! I could have more explicitly acknowledged Honey when on the hill and perhaps that would have enforced my role in the herd and she would have followed more willingly. All of those things might have meant I finished with more light and wouldn’t have stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle!

There were of course many positives from the adventure. Seeing the ponies on the hill at sunset is always special. In addition, I’m grateful for how Madie responded, moving into view so I could see where they were, and also descending when I was calling to them at dark. That’s a connection I look forward to expanding on. I’m grateful for Rose trying to communicate that I wasn’t being successful bringing in the whole herd. And probably most importantly, now I know there’s a spot up there where I really can’t see them from the lowlands and that I need to make special effort to check when I can’t find them elsewhere.

I’m so fortunate to share my life with these ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

You can read more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here and on the book cover.

Pony Sense for Trying Times

It was the morning after a couple of challenging days. As I was bucketing water into a stock tank, two of my mares sandwiched me. They stood either side of me and began grooming me with their lips and generally, in my mind, trying to comfort me. It was a magical moment, fortunately one of many I have with my ponies. It was a fabulous reminder of what’s important and what’s not and how smart ponies are about care.

One example of pony sense for trying times is to share about a bright spot in your day with someone who’s on the same wavelength as you. Thank you, Madie!

This year has been somewhat trying so far. Not anything terrible, but no run of ease either. So I have been thinking a lot about what ponies have to teach me about getting through trying times. I have previously published “Pony Sense for Business.” (click here to read it.) Here’s some of the wisdom I’ve gleaned from them about navigating trying times:

• Trust your instincts. They have important information for you.

• Be honest, especially with yourself. For instance, be clear about what you can handle, what brings joy, and when you need a break.

• Live in the moment. All your wisdom is available to you there and harder to access if you’re worried about the past or anxious about the future.

• Take naps standing up if you have to, if only for a few breaths.

• Find a place you feel calm and safe, and spend time there.

• Hang with those who make you feel peaceful and avoid those who don’t.

• Get lots of exercise, even if it’s just walking. Exercise is good not only for our bodies but for our entire beings.

• Vary your routine so you don’t get bored and dull.

• Know the difference between an annoyance that requires just a skin flick versus one that requires a tail swish versus one that requires a run for cover. Respond appropriately and don’t waste energy.

• Don’t let anything distract you from getting the food you need to keep going.

• Say no when you need to. Stick your feet in the ground if necessary to clearly communicate your position.

• When you say yes, really mean it. Give it your all and still have some in reserve. Be up for anything. Learning new things is good for mental health.

• Drink good water to keep your gut, brain and body happy so you can digest, think, and love at your best.

• Refuse to take anything in that’s unusual. If it doesn’t feed you, it’s not worth having in your body.

• Taste good quality salt every once in awhile to aid your digestion and help yourself stay hydrated.

• Be careful with sweets. They can make us apt to bite and be unpleasant to work with or be around. They’re tough on our waistlines. And they often lead to chronic disease.

• Get a hug, scratch, or pat from someone in your life somehow. Often.

• Share about a bright spot in your day with someone who’s on the same wavelength as you.

• Find a way to nourish yourself, even if it takes extraordinary measures. Don’t let gates or fences dissuade you. You are important.

I am continually amazed by what my ponies bring to our life together. The more time I am with them, the more they offer and help me understand. They are indeed a blessing. One lifetime with them will not be enough.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Phantom at the Gate

The Three Sisters - my homebred Fell Pony mares Rose, Honey and Madie - had finished their feed buckets.  I opened the two gates required for them to go out to pasture.  Then it was time to untie them and take their halters off.  First, I untied Madie and let her loose, and she trotted off to the gate.  I walked to Honey next and untied her.  I was also watching Madie, as she went through the first gate, but something between the two gates in the small densely-vegetated paddock between them spooked her, and she spun and came back into the main paddock.  Honey wasn’t watching, and she trotted through the first gate and then suddenly detoured into the weedy paddock.  Apparently there was some phantom at the gate scary enough to keep the two mares from the enticement of the green grass of the pasture.  Very odd!

Lastly, I went to untie Rose.  She is the most food oriented of the three as well as being the herd leader.  She knew the other two had headed out of the paddock towards green and was giddy to join them but didn’t seem aware of or concerned about the behavior of the other two.  I untied Rose, and she quickly went into a strong trot through the first gate, past the weedy paddock, and out to pasture.  The other two mares overcame their concern of whatever had bothered them and headed out to pasture, too.  The photo here shows Rose headed out at a trot, as Madie and Honey evaluate the situation from their positions.

Two days later, when next my management of these ponies was identical, the same pattern played out.  There was apparently, again, a phantom at the gate that kept Madie and Honey from leaving alone.  Rose, though, was once again their intrepid leader, focused on her goal, and pulling the other two along in her wake.  Herd dynamics are so fascinating!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

More stories like this one can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Fell Ponies and Mesohippus

I had the chance recently to take a short scenic drive through Badlands National Park. It was a beautiful spring day, so I interrupted the drive to walk the Fossil Exhibit Trail. The walk allowed me to finally achieve a goal of seeing a fossil of Mesohippus in South Dakota. Mesohippus as you likely know is considered an ancestor of today’s equines though was three-toed and a browser, not a grazer. I have visited numerous places in the region since moving here where Mesohippus fossils are said to have been found, but I never had seen one around here until Badlands. Seeing it completed a circle of sorts that includes Fell Ponies.

When my friend Jackson brushes Rose, she’s in an ideal position to see Rose’s chestnut. When she asked about it, I got to tell a story about it!

When my young friend Jackson visits the ranch and is interested in a pony ride, she stands patiently as I prepare Willowtrail Wild Rose for her ride. Sometimes she will take up a brush to remove some of the mud that Rose loves to have on her coat. When brushing Rose, Jackson’s height is such that she easily sees the chestnut on the inside of Rose’s front legs. The first time she saw it, she asked about it; now she recites the story I told her. She’s obviously a very smart little girl!

Willowtrail Wild Rose’s Chestnut on the inside of her front leg.

What I told Jackson is a story I learned when I was young and my weekend mornings involved reading, including a natural history book that my grandmother gave me. The book said that the very distant ancestors of Fell Ponies (actually all equines) had as many as five toes instead of a hoof (the story of equine evolution has gotten a lot more complex since then, but as near as I can tell, this evolution of the lower limbs still holds). Over time, evolution caused the two outside toes to not be needed and to pull up the leg, leaving the three central toes, as on Mesohippus. Eventually those three central toes merged into one and became the hoof of today’s equines. The remnants of the two outside toes are sometimes still seen on more primitive types of equines, including Fells. The chestnut and the ergot are what is left of these remnant toes. When Jackson asked the question, I of course lifted a hoof, parted the feather, and showed her the ergot that was hidden there, as shown in the picture here.

An ergot on Willowtrail Spring Maiden’s heel.

I love getting questions about my ponies, and I appreciate the one Jackson asked about Rose’s chestnut that allowed me to tell her this story. And I appreciate the curators at Badlands National Park who helped me achieve my goal of seeing a fossil of Mesohippus in South Dakota.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

More stories like this one can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Shedding Patrol

This spring I have been making a weekly shedding patrol thanks to a question from a new Fell Pony owner. They contacted me because they felt I had a lot of experience with Fell Ponies and maybe could answer their question. I was pleased and surprised that it was a question I had never thought about in my twenty-plus years with Fell Ponies: how long do these ponies shed out their coats?

I realized I have paid a lot of attention to when shedding starts - February in spring and August in fall – but not when it ends. Shedding in February always alarms me because I know how much cold and then wet weather is still in front of us. The same in the fall: I know we still have really warm weather ahead of us when they start sloughing their summer coats and growing their heavier winter garb. So while I have noticed the start of shedding for these reasons, I guess I’ve never had a weather event to help me make an observation about the end of shedding. Since shedding was going on when I got the question, I made a note on my calendar to check the state of shedding of all the ponies each week.

My conclusion was that spring shedding generally takes about three months in this climate. There are definitely variations amongst individuals and variations in the volume of loose hair over time. It seems that the ponies with the most access to green grass were done shedding earlier than the ponies that spend more time in corrals. I shared these observations with my inquirer, who was appreciative. Now that I have this baseline data, I will start paying more attention to the variations! Life with these ponies is a never-ending education. I love it!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Grateful for Grandma

I came inside mid-afternoon soaked to the skin. Not long after, I received a text from a friend saying she had just gotten home and felt like she had driven through a hurricane. I’ve never experienced a hurricane, but I definitely knew why my friend said what she said. The wind was lashing the trees, and rain was pouring down, or more accurately, pouring at an angle. I had gotten soaked doing midday chores with the ponies. I was happy that the heaviest rain held off until I got most of my chores done.

Marie, as usual, coming to say hello despite having to come out into the storm to see me. Imperial is behind her. She also greeted me after Marie did. Love these two!

While doing chores, I was extremely impressed with my new filly Drybarrows Imperial who was running back and forth in her pen because of the wind and heavy rain. When it came time to be haltered and led out, though, she stood quietly and then led perfectly to be put out on the pasture. I then put my other yearling Willowtrail Marie out with her, as well as Grandma pony, Bowthorne Matty. I was pleased that the two young girls followed Grandma off towards the pasture, unlike their behavior just a day before. I had put this new herd together to help Imperial learn the extent of and hazards of the hill pasture. The day before, the young girls had stayed close to the barn initially while Grandma headed out to graze. Later I had an opportunity to be grateful to Grandma, as she had collected the two young girls from the barn and taken them out to the hill.

When it was time to go back out into the storm for my late afternoon/early evening check of the ponies, I knew I needed to be more thoughtful about my choice of clothing. I was certain to get soaked to the skin again, so I donned long underwear under my regular outerwear. Normally I wouldn’t gear up so conservatively in moderate temperatures, but I knew I would need to keep warm while wet.

Stepping out the door, I was grateful to Grandma again. She was easily in view, clearly soaked to the skin but grazing calmly with her butt to the wind. However, I didn’t see the two youngsters. I went out to see Matty, who was just past the two foaling sheds, and asked her where the girls were? Then I looked over my shoulder and they were both in one of the sheds, clearly also soaked to the skin but out of the wind. When they saw me, they came to say hello, and I could tell they were shivering.

I thanked Grandma for letting me know that she was doing her job, both showing the girls how to get out of the storm and making herself visible so I knew the status of things. Then she turned and set off at a trot up the hill with the two girls quickly following. I was grateful to Grandma yet another time because movement was the best antidote there could be for being chilled but with no end of the storm in sight.

Originally my plan had been to take Grandma and the girls back to the barn and put a different set of ponies on the hill for the night. Imperial wasn’t yet as accustomed to our green grass as I wanted her to be before spending a night on the hill. And the other two members of the Grandma herd were making it clear that their herd had been fractured and they weren’t happy about it. However, the strength of the storm suggested that Grandma indeed had the best plan, so I left her to her job and went to the barn to make the rest of the ponies as comfortable as I could for the night.

At the height of the storm, I couldn’t tell these two apart without stopping to really study them, which wasn’t appealing with sheets of water coming down. One is two year old Bracklinn Phoebe and the other is three year old Willowtrail Lettie. Can you tell which is which? The photograph is soggy in appearance; apparently my camera didn’t like the storm either!

While the intensity of the weather kept me pretty focused on the tasks at hand at the barn, I did find myself astonished and humbled while feeding in one paddock. I couldn’t easily tell the difference between my two-year-old imported filly and my three-year-old homebred filly in their rain-soaked states. But that’s a good thing; it means I’m being consistent on type in my choice of stock! That kept me smiling in the sheeting rain.

The next morning, the wind had subsided just a little bit but the rain had ended. We had over 2” in about 12 hours, while places not twenty miles from us had almost nothing. My neighbor said the storm was a record-breaker because his granddaughter’s large play structure got rolled across his backyard for the first time ever. Another friend said it was the longest, hardest, most sustained wind they’d ever seen. I was grateful to see that my pony sheds, substantially built but also moveable, were still upright and in place.

I stopped first at the barn to do a quick check of the ponies there then headed to where I thought I could see Grandma. Sure enough, she was once again near the foaling sheds, with one youngster lying next to where she was grazing. I was concerned as I approached, though, that I was missing my other yearling. When I got closer, I saw that the other filly was lying in one of the sheds nearby. Once again I was grateful to Grandma for making sure I could easily learn all was well and that she made sure all was well! Not long after, while I was busy doing chores at the barn, she moved the fillies to a location out of the chilly and increasing wind.

Grandma and her charges enjoying the enlivened green grass after the storm.

When I got done with morning chores at the barn, it was time to bring Grandma and her girls in. It was a half mile hike each direction to do so, and in my mud boots, it wasn’t a walk I looked forward to taking. But on the walk back, Grandma gave me another reason to be grateful. We were walking along (she’s nine months pregnant so I chose not to ride her) and suddenly she veered off our path and headed toward the fence. I remarked to her that that was strange behavior, but she wasn’t deterred. Not long after, I happened to look down just as she was stepping over a strand of wire fence. I asked her to stop and back up and found that two strands of the fence had been broken and were in the path frequently used by the ponies. Not good! I moved the wires out of the path and the pasture and then realized that more than simple fence repair was going to be required. A piece of equipment had been parked in a way to break the wires, so I would have to have help getting it moved before I could repair the fence. Thanks, Grandma, for bringing the situation to my attention!

I have said many times in my stewardship of Fell Ponies that one lifetime will not be enough with them. It’s times like these with Grandma that prove to me that I will feel the same everyday until my last day with them.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

A Reunion with My First-Born Fell

Karen is removing a grazing muzzle from Gina/Lily, a tool in managing a Sleddale line pony on abundant green grass.

When I realized a trip for a family wedding was going to take me close to where my first-born Fell Pony is now living, the idea of a reunion with her came to mind. I reached out to her owner who enthusiastically endorsed the idea. Karen has been in touch since shortly after she bought Turkey Trot Sand Lily who turned 22 earlier this year. Karen calls her Gina. Lily/Gina was born at Turkey Trot Springs, the ranch where I was living when I got started with Fell Ponies. My first prefix was Turkey Trot, mirroring the practice often followed in Cumbria of using prefixes that reflect the location where the breeder and their ponies live. I now use the prefix Willowtrail for the farm that I call home no matter where it’s located.

Lily/Gina is a daughter of my first Fell Pony, Sleddale Rose Beauty, and my first stallion Midnight Valley Timothy. Lily/Gina stayed with me for ten years and had two foals for me: Willowtrail Columbine whom I last knew was in the Houston area but sadly I have lost track of, and Willowtrail Jonty who is beloved by his family in Utah who stays in touch. Here, I have Lily/Gina’s half-sister Willowtrail Wild Rose, also a Beauty daughter, and Lily/Gina’s niece and Rose’s daughter, Willowtrail Lettie, Beauty’s granddaughter.

The Sleddale ponies were bred for more than one hundred years. The last Sleddale pony registered was in 2004. Gina/Lily’s grandmother Sleddale Rosemary won the Senior class in 1991 at the Royal Show in England. The judge of the class said, “[Sleddale Rosemary] had all the distinctive qualities of the Sleddale Ponies. I could have found fault, but for me it typified the Fell and I preferred it on the day to the other ponies in a strong entry. It may just be my feeling but I find the Sleddale very representative of an old-fashioned type of pony….” (1)

Gina/Lily and me, courtesy Karen.

Characteristics that other people name about Sleddale ponies include good feet and legs, good bone and substance, a broad back, wide through the chest, and sometimes an independent spirit, usually coupled with a willingness to work. Mr. Henry Harrison, the last breeder of the Sleddale ponies described the fell where the ponies lived as “a poor hill, no good feed…,” which I think contributed both to their hardiness/easy keeping qualities and their occasional hardness of spirit. Nonetheless, Mr. Harrison also said, “Besides its hardiness, thrift, strength, and being surefooted, it is the personality of the fell pony that means so much, a kind natured pony, ever eager to please and provide good company.” (2) I kept Lily for a decade because we had a bond, and Rose is my heart pony for good reason.

The day of my reunion with Lily/Gina was a beautiful one, and Karen’s property shouted spring time. When I first saw Gina/Lily, I was immediately struck by how she reflects what I have learned about the Sleddale Fell Ponies over the years. Her shape indicated she was an easy keeper like her mother was; Beauty was two hundred pounds overweight according to the vet who examined her when I bought her. Both Gina/Lily’s sister and niece display similarly rounded figures compared to my ponies from other lines. Gina/Lily also gave no indication that she was going to be distracted from the green grass before her just because a visitor had shown up. I recognized that attitude, too! Nonetheless, Karen and Gina completed the Fell Pony Society 96-mile challenge in 2023, just as Rose and I did. My experience with the Sleddale line is that they thrive on having a job, which also keeps them from becoming too rotund!

Don't let me interrupt your grazing!

A few days after I returned from visiting Lily/Gina, a friend came to visit. They greeted all the ponies, and then said, “Rose is the only one who doesn’t want to say hello to me.” I told them that’s in that line, remembering how I had felt when Lily/Gina treated me similarly! I do think Lily/Gina recognized me despite her perceived indifference, and I know Rose was aware of my friend’s presence.

The late Mrs. Ailie Newall, breeder of the Dene Fell Ponies, once said, “I reckon really that the Sleddale ponies are the only true ponies that have always, constantly, been a true pony.” (3) My many years working with ponies, Fells and non-Fells alike, have shown me that part of loving a pony is learning to earn a relationship with them. Gina is lucky that Karen has developed a relationship that she assures me means Gina is in her forever home. For that I am profoundly grateful.

1. Tabelin, Alan. “Royal Show 1991 – Judge’s Notes,” Fell Pony Society Newsletter, Autumn 1991, p. 19.

2. Harrison, Henry. Fell Pony Society Calendar, 2005, January page. Mr. Harrison was the President of FPS at the time of the calendar’s publishing.

3. Millard, Sue. Hoofprints in Eden, Hayloft Publishing, Kirkby-Stephen, Cumbria, England, 2003, p. 52.

   © Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Traveling the Hill

After sitting in a vehicle all day, I was thrilled to return home to find sunny skies and my three Fell Pony sisters high on the hill. It was an immediate excuse to take a long and much-needed walk to see them. My dogs were thrilled as well, since because there are lots of calves around the barn, they aren’t allowed to be loose there, so they enjoy traveling the hill even more.

There was a pony in the background, but not with this framing! Just pretty pasqueflowers!

My initial climb to where I saw the Three Sisters herd had the benefit of going past numerous pasqueflowers in bloom. They are my favorite early spring flower. Unfortunately, it’s very difficult to get a picture of them with a pony because the flowers live under pine trees, and the ponies prefer to be in the open. I took the picture here hoping it had a pony in it in the distance, but alas I got the framing wrong thanks to the sun in my face!

The Three Sisters had moved since I had first seen them, to the southwestern edge of the pasture.

The ponies weren’t where I had seen them but instead about a quarter mile farther, in the upper southwest part of the pasture. I had been wanting to visit that area, so I was doubly happy for an even longer walk. The light was unusual due to haze; I wasn’t sure whether it was dust from the high winds we’d had or humidity. At sundown when I felt the wind on my cheek, I concluded the latter. And I admit that the weather forecast I’d heard confirmed that! The views from the spot were amazing and definitely justified the hike.

Rose and Ace add to the beautiful view!

After I greeted the ponies, I began my descent diagonally across the hill towards the east and home. About five minutes after I’d left the ponies, I was surprised to hear pounding hooves. I looked uphill, and sure enough the Three Sisters were passing by above me and then continuing below me. They would get to the bottom long before I did!

I barely caught the Three Sisters in this photo as they descended above me.

After I had gotten all the way down to my house farther east, I got a text from my partner saying the ponies were at the northwest corner of the pasture at the bottom, about three-quarters of a mile to the west. They had apparently had as much fun traveling the hill as I did, though going a much longer distance in less time!

Willowtrail Wild Rose mid-descent with my canine companion Ace at right.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

That Time of Year

Not visible to the human eye, but there’s enough green out there to be distracting!

It was a warm morning. When I got to the barn, the Three Sisters herd wasn’t at the gate to be let in as they had been all winter. Instead, they were just out on the hill where they could see my activities at the barn. I fed the Grandma herd and my stallion, then I opened gates to welcome the Three Sisters. As I did a few other things, I was surprised that the Three Sisters ran towards the barn from the hill. I had thought it might be that time of year when emerging green grass is too much of an enticement to stay out rather than come in.

I spread hay in the Three Sisters’ corral, and I was mightily impressed that my heart pony, Willowtrail Wild Rose, came trotting in. Normally, she enters at a walk. She came directly to me to greet me, and I gave her a hug and thanked her with a treat. Then she spun around and trotted right back out again! Ha! I thought. Definitely that time of year! In less than a minute, the Three Sisters were back out on the hill where they had been. I hadn’t even had an opportunity to close the gate on Rose!

I wasn’t feeling well, so I had been really hopeful for my cooperative ponies who bring themselves in like clockwork. But in the end, I smiled all the way out onto the hill with a halter, remembering Rose’s demonstration that it is indeed that time of year!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

How We Lead

The other day when I was out riding my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose, I saw an opportunity thanks to our recent wet weather. There was a sizable puddle ahead of us on the ranch lane, and I asked her to walk through it. She didn’t even hesitate. I was of course very grateful because not all equines will walk through water without a little experience.

The mud channel in the paddock presented a learning opportunity!

During morning chores, I halter all the ponies and tie them to a fence to get their feed buckets. My youngest is Willowtrail Marie, nine months old. I haltered and tied everyone else, and then Marie came to me willingly to be haltered and led to the fence. Between where I put her halter on and the fence was a muddy section of ground, as is shown in the photo. I led Marie to the edge of the mud then gave her some extra rope while I jumped the mud to avoid getting my boots muddy. Marie stopped and didn’t initially respond to several asks on the lead rope by me to follow. Eventually she stepped into the mud and joined me.

I quickly realized why Marie had hesitated. It was how I had chosen to lead her. I wanted her to follow my tugging on the lead rope, but she was responding to my body language. If I was concerned about putting my feet in the mud, then she should be too! The next day when it came time to halter her and lead her to the fence, I walked straight through the mud, and so did she with not a moment’s hesitation.

Whenever a pony refuses to do something I’ve asked them to do, I reflect on how I’m leading. Is there something I’m communicating by my actions that has led them to refuse? Sometimes that’s the case, and others not, but at least it’s a question worth asking. Had Rose refused to go through the puddle when I was riding her, I was prepared to dismount and walk through it with her to show her it was okay. These ponies are so smart and observant that they demand we be the same. What a blessing life is with Fell Ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Moth and Minerals and Water

When my new Fell Pony stud colt Globetrotter Moth arrived from England, I was pleased that he was content with the hay I had to feed him, and he learned quickly where water was available. I was also pleased at how sensible he was about going into the shed in his paddock where the free choice salt and minerals are available. I wasn’t too surprised then that the first few days into his life here went well. And then one day, he wasn’t right.

Stud colt Globetrotter Moth investigating the loose free choice minerals shortly after arrival.

I checked him before dark, and he was lying down and uninterested in a handful of green grass. Not a good sign! I went into emergency mode and within a few hours, he was back to normal after several heavy doses of probiotics. Then I began wondering what had happened. I concluded it had to do with water and minerals.

For most of the year, the waterers for the ponies are fed by spring water. Sometimes, though, well water is in the pipeline when the spring can’t keep up with the number of cattle and other animals on the ranch’s water system. The spring water has been tested as the best quality in our area; the well water is heavier in minerals. I have noticed that my ponies change how they use their free choice minerals when the water is switched from one type to the other.

On the day when Moth didn’t feel well, the water had been switched from the spring to the well. I realized he hadn’t had time to learn to use the free choice minerals to keep his system balanced when the mineral content of the water changed. Sure enough, while Moth had been willing to go into the shed where the mineral feeders are, he hadn’t used them. I made sure he had spring water as well as well water as he recovered.

A few weeks later, after it was clear that Moth was using the minerals, I weaned him back onto well water only when I also saw him drinking it regularly. I checked him several times, and sure enough he did fine. I was very thankful with how sensible he was about learning to use the minerals. And I was thankful for free choice minerals and that the ponies use them to keep their systems balanced. I can’t begin to adjust their mineral supplements as well as they can do it for themselves.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

Minerals and the Moon

Many years ago, I read an article by Dr. Doug Hammill, DVM about salt and minerals for equines. (1) His recommendation was for the salt and minerals to be provided loose and free choice: loose because equine tongues are not coarse enough to get what’s needed from a block and free choice to allow the equine to get what they need when they need it. Weather, exercise, change in hay or water all can affect the mineral combinations that equines need.

Providing minerals loose and free choice allows ponies of all ages to get what they need when they need it.

I have always felt fortunate that my first mentor in all things equine told me to provide minerals and salt loose and free choice. Over the years, as I replenish minerals in the various sheds that my ponies use, I have watched how their use of minerals changes. Usually I can pin a change on something, whether it’s a change in weather or a change in feed, for instance. An article in the Stockman Grassfarmer, however, suggested an influence on mineral uptake I hadn’t pondered before.

Joel Salatin, whom you may know for his long work with pastured poultry, had traveled to New Zealand to talk to farmers and stockmen about grazing. In one of his conversations, a stockman pointed out to him that the influence of the moon on mineral uptake isn’t appreciated. That’s definitely something I’ve never considered! The stockman made their observation in the context of plants taking up minerals that grazing animals then take up. The moon is known to influence water, and since many minerals are water-soluble, it makes sense there could be a connection between the moon and mineral uptake by plants and by extension by grazing animals. Here’s another good reason to provide minerals in a way that equines can get what they need when they need it. I certainly can’t keep track of how the moon might influence what they need or don’t!

1. Hammill, Doug, DVM. “Ask a Teamster,” Small Farmer’s Journal, Fall, Vol. 31, No. 4, page 22.

2. Salatin, Joel. “Meadow Talk: New Zealand Farmers Montage.” Stockman Grass Farmer, August 2023.

   © Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

At the Sentinel's Request

The Sentinel is my senior Fell Pony mare Bowthorne Matty. She has earned that name by repeatedly standing apart from the herd looking into the distance, as if watching for trouble. The picture here shows the same behavior in the corral, letting the three younger ponies nap while she stands watch.

When my ponies get their feed buckets, they are often tied to a fence so that each pony gets their bucket without competition. (The buckets contain vitamins, probiotics, and other supplements; minerals are available loose and free choice.) The other advantage of giving them buckets when they’re tied is I can tell if they’re eating what I’ve given them, instead of the bucket being emptied by someone else. Even when they’re tied, I watch to make sure each pony is enthusiastically focused on their bucket, eating its contents. If that’s not the case, I investigate to correct whatever is keeping the pony from eating.

Occasionally, the Sentinel will stand back from her bucket and not touch it. When I first saw the behavior, I was puzzled. I figured out the situation by going to her and standing next to her bucket to watch. She would then start eating. Once she started eating, if I attempted to leave, she stepped back again and quit eating. But if I stayed there, she would finish the contents of her bucket.

I have responded to the Sentinel’s request and she is finishing her bucket in thanks.

I can’t know for sure, but the conclusion I’ve reached is it usually happens when we’re having windy weather. She seems to be requesting that I take over the sentinel job while she eats. I assume it’s because she can’t hear what’s going on around her because of the wind, and her sentinel responsibilities mean she must keep watch rather than eat. Now when I see the behavior, I recognize the Sentinel’s request. I join her and don’t leave until she has completed eating. When I respond to the Sentinel’s request, she cleans up her bucket just like normal. There aren’t many beings in my life that take their job that seriously. Always something to learn from my ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

Phoebe's First Day on the Hill

Putting my new Fell Pony filly Bracklinn Phoebe out on the hill for the first time here at Willowtrail Farm didn’t go like I thought it would, and it was at the same time a perfect reflection of her wonderful temperament. Phoebe arrived here from Scotland the day before Thanksgiving after three weeks on the road. I kept her in a separate pen for three days to let her get used to the altitude and my management routine and as a transition from the confinement of travel. She could exchange air across fences with my mares to introduce herself but didn’t have to immediately deal with their more physical expressions of herd behavior.

Phoebe on the periphery of the Grandma Herd

I put her in with the Grandma herd for a few hours in the corrals the fourth day and then permanently the next. This herd has Bowthorne Matty, the overall herd leader at 17 years old, then Willowtrail Lettie, a two year old, and Willowtrail Marie, a weanling. It’s my hope that Lettie and Phoebe will bond. Of course at this point, Lettie is trying to maintain her place in the herd and is therefore pushing Phoebe, who is taller, around. By comparison, Marie and Matty rarely acknowledge Phoebe at all!

The hill pasture where the Bracklinn herd runs in Scotland is in the distance over the grey mare’s rump.

In Scotland, Phoebe spent part of the year on a hill pasture with her family herd, so I knew she’d understand what running on a hill would be like. What I needed her to learn from the other herd members here was how to get to the hill from the barn and back again, where the water is, and where there’s cover when the weather is adverse. For her to learn these things, she needed to stay with the herd when I let them out onto the hill. I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I watched carefully after I put them all out.

For a few minutes, the four of them ran around just outside the corral. Then all but Phoebe ran off to the hill. I wasn’t sure if Phoebe didn’t see them leave or chose not to follow them. When I saw her alone, I went out to her to let her know I’d help her find the herd, then I began tracking them in the fresh snow. They had descended into the ravine that separates the barn from the pasture, then ran out of sight. Phoebe didn’t follow me when I went into the ravine then out the other side into the pasture, so I returned to the barn for a halter and lead rope.

Once Phoebe understood where the herd was on the hill pasture, she willingly stayed with them to graze.

I have been so impressed by Phoebe’s ground manners, better than many yearlings I’ve imported, and the next few minutes cemented that impression. The wind was gusting, and she was in completely unfamiliar terrain, but she politely followed me down into the ravine and up the other side then out onto the hill pasture. She only got anxious when she spotted the herd. I took the halter off and watched her run to the herd. Lettie immediately began keeping her a dozen yards distant from Matty but Marie was willing to graze with Phoebe. I went back to the barn and watched the herd for the next half hour as I was doing chores. Satisfied that Phoebe was hanging with the herd as I needed her to do, I went inside.

Just before dark, I was thrilled to see four black dots on the hill together. Phoebe was staying with the herd!

Just before dark, I headed out to check on the herd and determine if Phoebe was okay to spend the night on the hill. Again, I needed her to be hanging with the others and the others needed to keep her in sight. Upon stepping outside, I was immediately thrilled with what I saw. Midway up the hill, I could see four dark spots in close proximity to each other. Sure enough, when I climbed up to the herd, they were indeed acting as a herd, though Lettie was still keeping Phoebe a good distance from Matty.

Bracklinn Phoebe on the hill at Willowtrail Farm.

I greeted each of the ponies, which mostly meant standing still as they each came to me, then I began my descent. Phoebe tried to follow me, so I modified my route to encourage her to stay with the other ponies. She eventually got the idea, turning around and climbing back up the hill and calling to the others. I was thoroughly impressed at her desire to connect with me, her willingness earlier to follow my leadership, and then her desire to be a part of the pony herd on the hill. She’s a delight in so many ways!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

Thankful 2023

Bracklinn Phoebe in Scotland shortly before her trip to me. Note the abundant green grass! Courtesy Alistair Smith

This Thanksgiving I am thankful
For the safe arrival on the farm
Of a yearling Fell Pony filly
Who’s delighting with her charm.

Bracklinn Phoebe arrived from Scotland,
A long journey to be sure.
But her calm and friendly temperament
Made it easy for her to endure.

Phoebe at the layover stable in Lexington, Kentucky where her friendliness made photography challenging. Typical Fell POny! Courtesy Newtown Stable.

We had the chance to get to know her
On the final leg of her three-week trip.
From Colorado through Wyoming to South Dakota,
Unlike for us, for her was just a blip.

Phoebe’s gray color intrigues me
And caused one of her transporters to laugh.
She looked at the halter tag saying ‘gray mare’
And thought it was some sort of gaff.

Phoebe’s near-black color had confused her,
But to me the gray color is there.
Splashed on her cheeks and around her nose
Amongst the dominant black is the odd white hair.

Left: Phoebe looking out at the non-green landscape of Wyoming. Right: Meeting my herd upon arrival. She’s in a pen separate from my two mare herds.

At a water and hay stop in Wyoming,
She glanced out at the scenery in awe.
Not a blade of green grass was visible anywhere,
Unlike at her home in Scotland that we saw.

She arrived the day before Thanksgiving.
Then the holiday brought a winter storm.
Cold, snow, and wind began intensely
In typical South Dakota form.

Phoebe handled the snowstorm the day after she arrived without concern.

As the temperature dropped and wind increased,
I worried how Phoebe’d do.
Her breeder assured me it’d be no problem,
And that’s certainly what ended up being true.

Now begins the considered work
Of integrating Phoebe into my herd.
Balancing her safety amongst lots of newness
And with the excitement her presence has stirred.

Phoebe in the background and the Grandma herd in the foreground, getting acquainted at feeding time with a fence keeping Phoebe safe initially.

I plan to put her first with the Grandma herd
Where the energy is a little lower.
I’m hoping two-year-old Lettie will, like me,
Really like her when she gets to know her.

Phoebe enjoying a chance to move after three weeks of being confined while on the road.

Her breeder told me Phoebe’s movement
Was a characteristic he especially admired.
I saw it here as she moved about with the herd
And is certainly something I desired.

So, I am very grateful,
At my favorite holiday of the year,
For friends and family and home and work,
And that a new pony has landed here!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

Humbled by My Herd

It happened again. And it reminded me of a twelve-hour period this summer when they did it twice. ‘It’ is my Fell Ponies making choices that lighten my chore load when they could easily choose differently. They leave me pleased, surprised, touched, and humbled.

My mares and foals came into the barn to eat the hay I had left for them, humbling me by then staying there until I returned to shut them in for the night.

Earlier this fall, we were going out to dinner, and I couldn’t find the mares with foals out on the hill before we left. I had been putting them out on the hill in the morning and in at night and then letting the open mare herd out at night and in during the day. I fed the open mare herd in their paddock then opened the gate to the other paddock where I spread hay in hopes that the mares with foals would come in while I was gone. When I returned after dark, the mares and foals had indeed come in, eaten the hay, and then stayed, despite the gate still being open to the hill. Of course, it wasn’t just me that was appreciative. So was the rest of the herd so they could go out for the night.

The next morning when I arrived at the barn, there was something odd about the area near the round bale of hay that I had been feeding out of. Some spoiled hay that I had set aside had been disturbed. Then I saw a pile of equine manure nearby. My mind immediately began wondering which pony was out and then how did they get out. The mares and foals were in the corral where I expected them to be, and I could see ponies in the draw near the barn on the hill pasture. I thought maybe they had breached the fence in the draw, but when I double-checked, all the open mares were also where they should be. It was very odd, then, to find manure near the hay bale. Surely it was one of the ponies and not someone else’s equine? Someone else’s equine would have had to travel miles to get to that spot, with lots of more interesting grazing in between. But how had one of my ponies gotten out of the pasture and who had put her back in?

The answer came an hour later when I was reminded that fence repair was underway on the cattle corrals on the other side of the barn. The repair work involved tearing out old fence and putting in new. Some of the fence along the pony pasture had indeed been torn out but had not yet been rebuilt. Then the gates to the lane from the corrals were open. Okay, that explained how a pony could have gotten out, but who had put them back in? That question remained unanswered.

Next I decided to check the fence repair project. Sure enough, there were pony tracks going through the opening in the fence and then through the cattle corral toward the lane. And then the unanswered question got answered. There were also tracks going in the opposite direction. The wandering pony or ponies had put themselves back where they were supposed to be. This was despite the availability of a hay bale and ungrazed grass and unexplored territory. This was despite needing to reverse a 50 yard venture that navigated two corrals and two gates, a distance of lane, plus the opening in the pasture fence. I found it remarkable that the escaped ponies had unescaped themselves.

I am humbled that my ponies, when they could choose to stay up on the hill where there is plenty of grass to graze, instead come to the barn when I need them to.

I pondered my mares coming in and staying in the night before and then a wandering pony putting themselves back where they were supposed to be after being out on an adventure. I progressed from being pleased to being surprised to being touched to being humbled. They had clearly made decisions with me in mind. They recognize my patterns of care for them and they were responding to them. It wasn’t just one pony; it was several of them, running in two different herds. I am obviously not telling them what to do or forcing them to do these things. They are choosing to do so just as they choose to follow the lead of a head mare on the pasture when they could do otherwise. They were acting as though I am a respected member of their herd. I am still pondering the implications of that honor.

Despite being more than two decades in, it’s a humbling experience sharing life with these ponies.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

The Rosehip Trip

Several weeks ago when I shared a picture of bright red rosehips and my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose, a Fell Pony colleague in England commented on the photo and mentioned rosehip syrup. I’d never heard of rosehip syrup before, so I reached out to the colleague, Christine Robinson, for her recipe. My curiosity was further raised, so I then put collecting rosehips on my list. We were in the midst of warm fall weather at the time, so I began watching for our first hard freeze since several sources suggested waiting to pick rosehips until then.

I spotted this rosehip patch while riding on the Mickelson Trail through the Ranch as part of the Fell Pony Society 96 Mile Memorial Challenge.

In the meantime, while riding the Mickelson Trail with my friends Paula and Torrin, I saw a huge patch of rosehips. It happened to be on a section of the Trail that is on the ranch where I live, so I made note of the location to return to. Previously I’d assumed my rosehip picking was going to be in widely dispersed and lightly populated places. This patch, though, meant I could get everything I needed in one spot.

Rose on the MIckelson Trail in search of the Rosehip Patch.

One morning when weather was pleasant after a run of freezing weather, I decided it was time to go pick. Paula had wisely suggested it was an excuse to put a pony to work, so I hitched the horse trailer, loaded Rose, and we headed to the far end of the ranch to a trail head. It was the first time I had ever taken Rose to a trail head by herself and then ridden her, so I wasn’t sure how she was going to feel about it. As it turned out, she did fabulously.

I couldn’t remember how far it was to the rosehip patch from the trail head, so my dogs and Rose and I headed out. It ended up being a mile and a half to the patch. The weather was pleasant so it was another beautiful autumn ride. When we got to the patch, I looped Rose’s lead rope over a fence post so she could graze, and I set to work picking, moving Rose to another fence post occasionally for her to have fresh grazing.

Rose was contentedly engaged with grazing while I picked rosehips nearby. I moved her from fencepost to fencepost as she needed new forage.

After about a half hour, I heard a twanging sound and soon figured out it was the wire fence that Rose was tied to. She didn’t seem concerned that the wires were jiggling, but I was. It turned out that one of my dogs had found something of interest on the top wire of the fence and could only get to it by jumping and snapping at it. The twanging was essentially her plucking the fence like a guitar string! I smiled but also took it as a sign to finish up my picking chore and head back to the trail head. Rose put her foot to the Trail as capably as she had on the way in. We saw only cattle and a rabbit on our trip, just the sort of outing I enjoy, on beautiful country with just my pony and dogs for company.

The fruits of our labors: rosehips!

The Rosehip Ride was the day after I had completed the Fell Pony Society 96 Mile Queen Elizabeth II Memorial Challenge. I was once again thankful for the Challenge for getting Rose and me in riding condition. Our spontaneous trip to the rosehip patch wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Now it was time to make rosehip syrup!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023