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.

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

Humble Pie and Summer Blacks

Over the course of the few months it took him to read the book, my nephew would give me reports via video chat. It finally became clear I needed to read the book, too, and I gave him a book report back. His response was, “Your comment about making a regular diet of humble pie made me laugh, but I think it’s a good philosophy to live by.”

What if the summer black color is an asset rather than a sign of nutrient defiiciency?!

The book was 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus by Charles Mann. I thought I was aware of the newer understanding of how Native Americans worked with the environment of the Americas to support their lives. This book, though, made me realize I had no idea how extensive their stewardship was and how large their populations were that were supported by that stewardship. Hence my comment about needing to make a regular diet of humble pie; there will always be more to learn, and I’d best not get too set in my way of thinking about things!

Since I spend a lot of time everyday thinking about Fell Ponies, I wondered what might be cause for eating humble pie on that topic. Immediately what came to mind was the color summer black. I started my Fell Pony career with two jet black Fell Ponies, but a few years later I learned that black ponies also come in a variety that fades in the summer. The conventional wisdom was that it was a copper deficiency that led to the fading, and indeed I have been able to keep the fading black ponies that have since joined my herd blacker by supplementing with copper. Since copper also is a necessary nutrient for the immune system, I felt it was an important way for me to support the health of my ponies in many ways.

My ponies and I lived at high altitude in Colorado for many years, where summer temperatures were moderate. Since moving to South Dakota, we have had to get used to hotter summer weather, and for the first time I have seen my ponies sweat not from exertion but from heat. I am grateful for the many sheds and forms of natural cover available to them so they can get out of the sun when they want to.

My serving of humble pie came spontaneously. What if a fading black coat is an adaptation for hot summers because it doesn’t absorb quite as much heat as a jet black coat? I can make many arguments about why it’s still important to supplement copper, but I will try to be open to the idea that if my ponies’ coats fade, the change in color may be helpful to them, too!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

“Fell Pony Hair and Copper” is one of the chapters in my book Fell Ponies: Observations on the Breed, the Breed Standard, and Breeding, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.