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

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.

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

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

Under Heavy Skies

I went out later in the evening than I probably should have. I was assuming that the mares and foals had come into the barn on their own as they had been doing every night for awhile. I was especially hopeful they were in because the skies were very heavy: dark and full of moisture with thunder and lightning punctuating regularly.

When I stepped outside to go to the barn, though, I could see I was out of luck. On the other hand, at least I knew where one mare was. Her foal was silhouetted against the dark sky high on the hill. I cast an eye in the direction of the lightning and then towards the pony up high and decided we had a window of time to get up there and down safely. So we, my dogs and I, started climbing. We stayed under trees as much as we could, and I counted between every lightning flash and thunder boom to make sure those features weren’t coming our way.

When we got up to where I had seen the pony silhouetted against the sky, I found only one mare and foal instead of two pair. We were very exposed, so after walking a short distance to see if I could find the other pair, I decided we’d have to go down without them and hope they would join up with us eventually. Usually the two pair are together.

Just as we had when climbing up, we stayed under trees as best we could, and I took a round-about way to the barn that was less out in the open. The ponies didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the booms and flashes as I was (and my thunder-fearing dog). The other mare and foal never joined us, leaving me wondering what that meant for the remainder of the fading light I had available.

In the end, I was thankful for the other pony pair. They had made it to the barn on their own, showing good sense from my perspective. And I really can’t complain about the pair that made me climb because they were cooperative and calm coming down off the hill under those heavy skies. My ponies definitely provide me with plenty of adventure!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

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

A Remarkable Thing About Fell Ponies

When I first moved to the Southern Black Hills of South Dakota, I received some very helpful advice. I was told the grasses here are too rich for easy-keeping equines, so I would need to be careful with my ponies. Founder/laminitis was common. My management of my herd during fresh grass season, then, allows twelve hours on/twelve hours off the hill pasture that the ponies call home. One might think the ponies would find this restriction constraining, but they regularly offer me evidence that they are just fine with the arrangement. (continued below picture)

The two pictures here aren’t particularly profound at first glance. They aren’t as stunning as some of the photos I share showing ponies and wildflowers or ponies and stunning views or ponies with me or visitors. Yet these pictures are very meaningful to me. They show two herds of four ponies. One set is on the pasture during the day, and the other set is on the pasture at night. The first picture shows the in-at-night herd eating a little hay before going out. The second picture was taken about ten minutes later, showing the same paddock but with the other herd eating the remains of the hay after coming in. (continued after picture)

The out-at-night herd is almost always at the barn waiting to come in when I arrive there in the morning. The in-at-night herd is almost always at the barn at sunset waiting to come in when I arrive there. Sometimes when there’s been a big weather change or my personal schedule is different than usual, I have to venture out onto the hill to bring a herd in. The first picture shows part of the hill where the herd grazes; it’s a pretty big place! Even then, all that’s required to bring a herd in is haltering a single pony, and the rest of the herd accompanies us on our journey to the barn.

I find it both remarkable and telling about Fell Ponies that an extensively grazing herd like this one is also very amenable to people and our requirements. I have been amongst extensively grazing herds on the fells of Cumbria, and I’ve been around Fell Ponies that are ridden and driven and do other work both over there and over here. It wasn’t until I moved here that I understood it was possible for the same ponies to do both: live out on a hill in a semi-wild state for part of the day and also be in and do things with me for part of the day. Life with these ponies continues to be eye-opening!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

Obviously in the Wrong Place

The east wind was stiff, so I wasn’t terribly surprised that the ponies weren’t at the barn when I got there. The barnyard doesn’t provide good cover on mornings like that. And I wasn’t terribly surprised that they also weren’t out in the open. So when I went out in search of them, my direction was only a guess.

One blessing of my route, though, was that pasqueflowers were pushing their purple heads towards the sky wherever the hillsides were shaded by pine trees. Seeing them made it feel more like spring than the temperature or stunted green grass did. I also felt like they were greeting me with bountiful good wishes as I climbed. It was a rare treat!

I climbed up a ridge, thinking that the hiding place they usually use when there’s an east wind was where they would be. I could tell fairly quickly though that I was in the wrong place. There were no fresh hoofprints in front of me, and no fresh manure in the vicinity. I kept turning around in all directions to see how badly I had misjudged their location, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. Then finally a pony appeared from trees well west of me, and indeed I was in the completely wrong place.

There is a black speck between two distant pine branches. That’s one of the ponies that finally emerged from their hiding place! But of course the pasqueflowers blooming made up for any frustration I might have felt at having been in the completely wrong place!

I headed back down, occasionally looking up from the rocky trail to see another pony and then another emerge from the trees on the hillside ahead of me. The ponies then started running, with manes and tails streaming behind them, always a captivating sight. Then they all disappeared from view, and I made my way back to the barn. I was again not terribly surprised that they had arrived there well ahead of me. I wasn’t bothered, though, for my day had begun with so many visual treats, from pasqueflowers to running ponies, that I greeted the herd enthusiastically once we were all together. Such a blessing to share life with these ponies!

The herd beat me back to the barn, of course!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

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

They Came When I Called

My Fell Ponies graze on a very large pasture with almost 400 feet of elevation change. I have been asked occasionally whether I can call my ponies to the barn so I don’t have to undertake the arduous task of walking out to bring them in. My answer to that question is that I don’t call them to the barn for a couple of reasons. First, they have shown that they willingly come to the barn to see me every morning, so I don’t really need to call them in. And second, if they don’t come to the barn, they usually have a good reason, and I’m curious to find out what it is, so the walk to find them is driven by curiosity. However, when the blizzard of the third and fourth of April 2023 hit, when my ponies weren’t at the barn when I arrived, I did attempt to call them in.

I had seen the ponies the night before, half way into the storm. Nearly a foot of wet heavy snow had fallen without wind so had evenly blanketed everything. When I bid the herd good night, I knew we were due for more snow and also that wind was forecast. The next morning it appeared we had about 20” of snow, but the wind had indeed blown, so drifts were up to three feet in places, and a few places had no snow at all. I was late getting to the barn because I was waiting for the ranch roads to be plowed. When I finally got to the barn, a few hours later than normal, I could see the ponies had been there earlier but weren’t there then. When I left Colorado, I gave away my snowshoes, which would have been the ideal tool for going out in search of the ponies. Since I no longer had them, I decided it was best to try to call the herd.

I filled a tub with hay and started spreading it around the paddocks at the barn, calling as I went. I looked out to the hill every few steps but I couldn’t see any ponies emerging from their usual haunts. I went to fill the tub with hay a second time, and as I returned to the paddocks, I saw the ponies coming in. It was quite a sight to see them streaming at speed over and through the deep snow, down into the ravine and then into the paddocks. The hock and knee action that I breed for were on display as the ponies negotiated the results of the blizzard. And now I could indeed say that my ponies came when I called. I was very thankful.

That night I returned to the barn just before dark. It had been an overcast and cold day, so the snow was as deep then as it had been in the morning. I spread hay as before, and I called the ponies. Once again, they came when I called. Often in the evening they don’t come to the barn; when they do I assume it’s because they feel the need for the additional sustenance of some hay. After this major storm, I was more than happy to provide it. And I admit to feeling relief that I could lay my eyes on all of them and be certain they were weathering the situation well. One lifetime with my ponies will definitely not be enough!

To see a video of my ponies coming in when I called, click here.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

At Dusk on the Hill

It was just after sunset and snowing. I had just gotten back from running an errand in town. I thought there was enough light to go out and see the ponies on the hill, but when I came in on the lane, I didn’t see them anywhere. Nonetheless, I took off with my dog Ace in the failing light to a place I couldn’t see from the lane, but they weren’t there. I climbed up onto a small ridge to look down in a gully to see if they were there because I also couldn’t see that from the lane, but they weren’t there either. So I called out a good night, wishing them well and saying I would see them in the morning. As I turned to head home, I saw something that made me look back. There, halfway up the hill was a pony that had lifted its head to acknowledge my greeting. When she saw me look at her, she went back to grazing.

I did a quick calculation as to whether I had enough light left to get safely up there and back down again before dark. As I started climbing, the ponies went out of sight as I dropped down into a small ravine, then climbed up over a small hill, and then went down into another ravine again. Finally I started the bigger climb to where I had seen them. When I finally got high enough, I saw one pony standing on a prominence, watching my approach. I had only seen two ponies from below, so when I got to her, I wasn’t surprised when I saw the second pony, but then I was curious where the rest were. As I went to greet the second pony, I saw a third, and then a fourth came up out of a ravine. When I walked to the edge, there were the other three. I greeted six, but the Sentinel was up too high, and I couldn’t take the time to climb to her.

As I picked my way back down the hill, I was glad I had made the climb. As usual, I enjoyed seeing my ponies enjoying the hill. And it’s always touching when my ponies greet me upon my arrival. This time I was also touched by the fact that they let me know where they were and encouraged me to come see them. One lifetime is definitely not going to be enough to share with them.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

The Sentinel's Strange Behavior

The Sentinel: Bowthorne Matty

The morning light showed a single pony on the hill pasture. That’s odd, I thought. Normally the herd is all together. As I got closer, my suspicion about which pony was standing alone was confirmed. I call Bowthorne Matty, my senior mare, the Sentinel. She is often found standing off from the herd with a distant look in her eyes. This time was strange, though, because normally the rest of the herd is only a few dozen yards away. But they were nowhere to be seen.

When I got to the barn, I found the other members of the herd there. Matty, though, showed no inclination to join us. What could be keeping her out there? Normally she’s at the gate in the morning to greet me. Is she hurt? Sick? Worried about something?

Notice the small circle on the tip of her nose: a cactus bud.

I shut the rest of the herd into the barn paddock and headed out with a halter and lead rope to where Matty was standing. Even when she saw me approaching, she didn’t move in my direction, also very unusual. All the same questions kept circling through my mind. She didn’t appear out of the ordinary, other than by her behavior. Finally, when I got about thirty yards away, she started toward me. That relieved one worry: her movement was completely normal. And she seemed to be acting normally. Still, though, why was she staying out here all alone?

It was only when she got about ten feet away that a possible explanation revealed itself. On the end of her nose above her lips was a cactus bud. I had only ever seen one pony before be adorned in this way. Matty’s daughter Willowtrail Mountain Honey has presented herself numerous times with a nose ornament like this. I removed it as quickly as I could then haltered Matty, and she willingly headed with me toward the barn. When we got to the ravine, she indicated that she’d prefer to run in, so I unclipped the lead rope. I met her at the barn a few minutes later and let her in the gate to rejoin the herd.

I still can’t quite accept that the cactus bud was the reason for Matty’s solitary behavior, though it could have been. I think it equally possible that some tree work being done under the power lines a quarter mile to the east also had her concerned. The tree work is done, so I will see tomorrow what the Sentinel’s behavior is in the morning sun. I am hopeful for normalcy.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2023

There are more stories like this one in my book What An Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Grazing Animals - Including Ponies - Doing Good

As you are likely aware, there is a debate raging about whether we humans should all be vegetarians, with the related opinion that livestock raised for meat should be removed from landscapes.  Like anything in life that’s important, it’s a complex topic.  Grazing animals such as cattle, sheep and goats can do damage to landscapes, a truth that fuels the pro-vegetarian/anti-livestock camp.  However, it is also the case that grazing animals can benefit landscapes when their grazing is managed with that goal in mind.  In a large swath of North America, grazing animals were an important part of healthy ecosystems prior to the arrival of Europeans to the continent, and around the world there are increasing numbers of farmers and ranchers who are successfully using livestock to improve landscapes and soil health.  In England, Fell Ponies are being used for this sort of beneficial grazing in their home region (click here to for more information).

In a recent paper in the journal animals, famed professor and livestock handling expert Temple Grandin laid out the current research that supports the title “Grazing Cattle, Sheep, and Goats Are Important Parts of a Sustainable Agricultural Future.” She concludes the article with “Well-managed grazing systems can be truly sustainable and improve soil health, help sequester carbon, and maintain plant biodiversity.  The grazing animals are part of the cycle of life and the natural grass ecosystem.  They are a natural part of the land.”  (1)  I have an ongoing assignment for Rural Heritage magazine to write articles on this and similar topics.

Usually, the discussions about the benefits of managed grazing involve the species that Grandin includes in her paper:  cattle, sheep, and goats.  A new book crossed my desk, however, that gives equine owners guidance on how to feed their animals with the same goals in mind:  improving landscapes and soil health.  Called Species-rich Grassland:  The Secret Key to Equine Health, the book is written by a German scientist who lays out in both an informative and entertaining way the science of managing forage and choosing forage products for the benefit of equines and their landscapes.  The book was published in 2019 and translated from German in 2021.  The author is a PhD ecophysiologist specializing in equine pastures, and she has copiously referenced current and historical research from around the world in this volume. 

Things that we regularly take for granted when we have equines are called into question in the book.  For instance, Vanselow considers mowing hay to be ecologically damaging in most cases because it reduces species diversity, both in forage plants and in the numerous other animal species that call pastures home.  Any hay meadow that has to be resown every few years also should be cause for reconsideration.  Fortunately, numerous case studies are given to show how to manage grassland more holistically, opening the reader’s mind to how our own landscape or the landscape from which we purchase forage products can be managed better for the health of our equines and other community members.

The book is available from the publishers of Rural Heritage magazine.  I highly recommend it for its thought-provoking and inspiring content.

1. Grandin, Temple.  “Grazing Cattle, Sheep and Goats are Important Parts of a Sustainable Agricultural Future, animals, 2002.12.2092, https://doi.org/10.3390/ani12162092, 8/16/22.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Two Chain Wind

I am told that the windy weather we’ve been having this month is unprecedented for our location. Being told that by someone who’s lived here for nearly 50 years, I’m inclined to believe it, even though wind is usually synonymous with South Dakota.

Today began with the discovery that a gate that has been chained shut for more than two years was blown open. An advantage of the fresh snow on the ground was that it was easy to see where my Fell Pony mare herd had gone. An advantage of it being April and it being warmer today is that there were wind-blown gaps in the snow, so the ponies hadn’t gone far because of the distraction of fresh green grass.

Stallion at left; mares in cattle feed bunk, center; young dog thinking he has work to do, right.

One of the things on my day’s to-do list was to tease mares. They checked that off my list by stopping at the stallion pen, showing me who was in heat and who was not. Handy! And I was very thankful for the stout fence that surrounds the stallion pen since ponies on both sides of it were testing it with their excitement.

I had been wanting to put cattle hay left in a feed bunk to use in some way, and that too proved a distraction for the herd from traveling too far. It also meant that when I took pony hay into the corrals, nobody followed me like they often do. I did manage to get two ponies, uninterested in their hormones, into the corral, but when I went to get the mares in heat, they took off back toward the gate they had come through, somewhat motivated by my young dog who couldn’t help but try to push them where they wanted to go which wasn’t where I wanted them to go. He was quickly leashed and then kenneled. And I was immediately sorry I had shut the pasture gate, since it’s likely the herd would have put themselves back in their pasture had I left it open.

The mares may have been trying to go back through the red gates that they had come through, but I had shut them. Green grass under the snow, though, kept them close by.

Another gate open that wasn’t supposed to be, so these three were missing from my roll call but quickly returned to the herd.

Eventually I got the rest of the herd behind the fence where they belonged and we headed to the corrals to get everyone back together. Once reunited and gates shut, I went to get hay, as is my habit, only to discover upon returning to the corral that what I had previously put out had not been eaten. I also was missing three ponies. Investigation found another gate open that shouldn’t have been, so I straightened that out before heading back to deal with the gate that had been open to start this rodeo.

About a week earlier, a double gate at a cattle pasture had blown open, so I had begun double-chaining it, and we hadn’t had loose cattle for that reason since. Before that, the stallion pen double gates had blown open when only shut with a single chain; they are now double-chained. The double gate on the pony pasture fence had only ever had a single chain since the gates were put in two years ago. That in itself suggests that the wind we’ve had recently has been more significant than the past two years.

Top image: only one chain; the second chain is still welded to a pipe as when the gate was purchased. Bottom: gate is double-chained. Young dog is being truly helpful (keeping me company) now.

When I checked the double gate at the cattle pasture this morning, the tails of both chains were flipped up and over a pipe and close to coming unlatched. I immediately thought of the story about monkeys and typewriters and eventually the works of Shakespeare being written. Given enough time, I could easily see how the wind would batter those gates back and forth and the chains would work loose. I’m counting on it taking twice as much random activity and wind for two chains to be worked loose compared to one.

I got my tools and put a second chain on the pony pasture double gates. I hope I never have to experience a two-chain wind. One chain winds are more than enough.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The Wisdom of Homesteaders and Ponies

When I woke up this morning, I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw when I barely raised my head from the pillow was my ponies grazing. That small hillside visible through my bedroom window was an odd location for them to be first thing in the morning. But my ears told me why they were there: wind.

Later, after I had gotten vertical, the herd was standing around the foaling sheds in front of my house. It seemed another odd choice given they have acres of green grass appearing for the first time in months. But it was a wise choice because of the wind.

This part of the ranch is the most sheltered of all during weather like this. It’s really not surprising, then, that the original homestead house is not far from where my house is. I have found, living rurally for the past three decades, that often you can learn a lot about the climate of a place by where the homesteaders placed their house. Here, it was in the shadow of a big hill in a narrow valley that runs roughly northeast-southwest. This location provided protection from the predominant winds from the northwest, like those we’re experiencing today.

The ponies seem to have the same good sense as the homesteaders about where there’s protection from weather. I learn a lot about the climate of this place by watching them on days like today!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The Wayward Band

My three Fell Ponies that were missing the previous morning were at the barn when I got there. Thank goodness for small favors! After I knew they weren’t at the barn with the rest of the herd the day before, I had walked many more steps than usual to get them back home. When I found them missing, I talked to my neighbor, and he said the ranch hand had told him I had ponies out of their pasture. Unfortunately, I then got some incorrect information about where they were, one reason I walked more steps than usual while finding them. The picture has a red arrow pointing to the ponies, and a green arrow pointing approximately to where the fence is. Their pasture is back of the green arrow.

The wayward band on high

It was almost exactly a year to the day from when I had to retrieve one member of this band from the same place. Elk had once again removed a portion of fence, and apparently the grass was greener on the other side. She took two friends with her this time. Pony #1’s mother was recently sold by her breeder because she had a similar habit. I’m hoping fence repair will keep this from becoming that severe an annoyance.

The wayward band on the wrong side of the fence.

When I finally got to them on my second try, I haltered the band leader, found the spot in the fence that was breeched, and led her to it. With a little coaxing, she stepped over the remaining wire that was about 10” off the ground. I led her several yards away, removed the halter, and went back for the next pony.

Pony #2 took matters into her own hands … or hoofs! She ran up the fence to the breeched portion and beautifully jumped the remaining wire to join Pony #1. Before long they were out of sight, which of course worried Pony #3. I haltered her and tried to coax her over the wire where the other two had gone, but she refused to lift her feet high enough to clear the wire. I then tried holding the wire down to the ground with my foot, and she still refused. She touched the wire an inch off the ground and backed away. Darn! I found it quite awkward to hold the wire down and try to direct her over it, so I mentally went in search of a different solution.

Next I took the halter off and walked over the downed fence section in the direction that the other two ponies had gone, thinking that might encourage another jumping display. It ended up being a poor choice. Pony #3 seemed to be upset at being ‘abandoned’ and ran the other direction along the fence out of sight. The fence went down a very steep and rocky hillside, so I slowly picked my way to Pony #3 when I could finally see her. Fortunately she waited for me to arrive, and I apologized for my poor choice. I haltered her and led her down to a gate at the pasture corner and led her through. When I released her, she took off toward the barn at a run. When I got back to the barn a little while later, all three of my wayward band were there as if nothing unusual had happened.

One of several benefits of retrieving the wayward band was finding this first wildflower of the spring!

While the search process was a bit laborious, it was still an enjoyable outing. I got to see some beautiful country and got to spend time with the wayward band out on the hill. I also got to see my first wildflower blossom of the spring, a pasqueflower! Well worth the effort!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

There are more stories like this one in my book The Partnered Pony, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Natural Herd Size

I returned in the middle of the night from a twelve-hour trip off the ranch for a family birthday party. Under the nearly full moon upon my return, I let my dogs out of the kennel and fed them. Then we walked to the stallion pen to feed my boy there. When I got back to my house, thanks to the moon, I could see that there were a few ponies in the pasture nearby. I went through the gate and greeted each of them. It turned out there were six there to acknowledge my return home. It’s always a source of happiness when they choose to greet me in this way.

There are nine ponies on that pasture now, but they are often split into two herds, one of six and the other of three. It is always of interest to me when all nine are together and then when the bands are smaller. When I moved here, after the foals of that year were all gone to their new homes, the six remaining ponies stayed together nearly all the time. A year ago, there were seven on the pasture, and usually they all ran together, but sometimes a pair peeled off and ran separately.

My observations of these group dynamics caused me to take special note of a brief part of a conversation between Tom Lloyd and Bert Morland on the Fell Pony Podcast. Tom is the host of the show and is the steward of the Hades Hill herd which is a fell-running herd. Bert was the guest on that episode and is the steward of the Lunesdale herd, another fell-running herd. I think it was Tom who said that he has observed that his ponies tend to divide into groups of six or seven, and Bert agreed. I was left with the impression that this size is what could be considered natural for our ponies.

When I heard the conversation between Tom and Bert about natural herd size, I had already been pondering reducing my herd back down to that six or seven size for a number of other reasons. Now I have this new perspective of natural herd size to contemplate as I make decisions. While I could increase my numbers to have two herds of six or seven, I am more likely to cut back to a single herd from my current nine. Stewarding these ponies is a source of endless fascination!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Pony Moments Summer 2021

I am so lucky to spend so much time with my ponies. They bring so many smiles to my face. Here are a few short examples from the past few months.

We had a moister summer than last, so my stallion’s grazing paddock lasted him most of the season. He stood at the gate in the morning waiting for me to open it and enjoyed his run down and into the ravine and up the other side before settling into grazing. Each day, though, when he heard me call, he willingly reversed the process, running down into the ravine and then back up into his paddock to meet me. I was so thankful!

I had two mares foal late in the summer. I appreciated their cooperation with my housing choices for them. Prior to foaling I was bringing Rose into a shed during the day to accustom her to the arrangement, then returning her to the herd for the night. Many mornings before she foaled, she would be at the shed when I came out, waiting for me to put her in. After Madie and Rose foaled, I put them out to graze during the day then in at night. These mares and their foals have a very large and varied pasture to graze, yet they reliably show up at dusk to be put in. I sleep better knowing they are in when the coyotes begin to howl nearby.

My two mares that did not have foals this year have also made me smile daily. Matty and Honey are out all night to graze, but every morning they are at the barn awaiting me when I arrive to close them in for the day. I keep them in so the foals can get used to the terrain of the pasture before dealing with the larger herd dynamics. Matty and Honey could make other choices, and they don’t. I’m so thankful.

One night I got home after dark. All of my ponies were in need of attention. Some needed to be fed where they were housed for the night and others needed to be let out to graze until morning. The adults were most interested in getting their feeding needs met, but the foals showed a different priority. Each of them - Mayflower, King, and Lettie – made a point of approaching and acknowledging me before following their mothers. They warmed my heart.

During fly season, I was regularly spraying the ponies who were in paddocks with an all-natural repellent. I have learned over the years that fly spray has at least three sensory associations that need to be established in my ponies for them to accept being sprayed: smell, feel, and sound (click here to read a story about those discoveries!) This time I was surprised, though, by how those sensory associations had already been learned by my foals. Both King at a few weeks old and Mayflower at a few months old stepped between their mothers and me to be sprayed. They had apparently already learned the relief associated with the spray and wanted to be first in line!

Another night, I also returned home after dark. As I stepped out of the car, I heard a call from the foaling shed nearby. Madie’s voice had a different quality to it, so I wondered what she was concerned about. Then I heard the pasture gate rattle. Ha! I had set a tub of hay outside the gate to give to Madie before I went to bed. She was letting me know that herd mates Matty and Honey had found the tub despite having an entire pasture to graze on and were reaching through the fence eating her evening meal. Since then I’ve put Madie’s tub farther from the gate!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

An Admirable Herd Dynamic?

The first two ponies come into view

My mare herd extensively grazes on a sizeable pasture on a north-facing side-hill. Despite their free-ranging life, they reliably come into the barn in the morning where I meet them for morning chores. So one morning when they didn’t arrive when I had been at the barn for a half hour, I began to wonder what was keeping them away. Yes, green grass is starting to emerge, and the weather wasn’t snowy as it had been for a few days. Nonetheless, they usually are at least visible from the barn, watching me prepare for their arrival, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Still only two ponies in view, but what a sight!

In the eighteen months that we have been here, I have learned where there are places on the hill that the ponies are not visible from the barn. So after the girls didn’t come in, I drove the farm lane to look at the nooks and crannies of the hill that I could see from there. Still no sign of them, so then I walked to one of the herd’s favorite hiding places. When I didn’t find them there, either, I texted my neighbor Bruce to ask if he had seen the ponies during his chores that morning. He had seen them early at the other end of the pasture from where I was, so he came and got me in a vehicle that could handle some mud and we checked a few more hiding places. When we still didn’t find them, we were very puzzled. Then I looked up. Finally, high on the hill against the cloudy sky, I saw the outline of a pony. At least now I knew where I might find the herd.

Another pony comes into view, with Parker Peak, the highest point in our county, behind her.

Bruce dropped me at the barn and I started walking south and up. A hundred feet or more of elevation gain later, I came upon two ponies. I was still missing four, so I kept climbing, and then I made a discovery. There was a grassy shelf that created yet another place on the hill where the ponies aren’t visible from the lower reaches. I found three more ponies there, but I was still missing a pony. Then the puzzle of the missing ponies began to make more sense. The final pony was on the wrong side of the fence, and the herd had apparently stayed close to her rather than come into the barn. I like that! Especially since that mare is about to foal. Of course I don’t know for sure, but if indeed the herd did choose to stay with her, I find that an admirable herd dynamic, and I can easily forgive them for worrying me by their absenteeism.

The stray pony finally on the right side of the fence, seeming to ponder her completed predicament

I got the stray pony onto the proper side of the fence, then haltered the lead mare and started toward the barn. She and I had completely descended the hill before the rest of the herd could be heard making their way down the steep slope and heading to the barn ahead of us.

The view from the barn: beyond the middle bump is where I found the ponies.

When I arrived at the barn, the stray mare greeted me. I could imagine her thanking me for righting the previous odd circumstances. Bruce told me that he had seen the same mare on the wrong side of a fence a few days before, but before he could let me know, she had found her way back to where she was supposed to be with the rest of the herd. It is likely the same would have happened this time if I hadn’t intervened. Just the same, I’m glad for the many discoveries I made while searching for the herd. Elk tracks made it clear that fence repair up on the hill is an addition to my to-do list for the summer.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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