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.

Hooray for Filmmakers and Fell Ponies!

In 2023, a short film was released called Tails of Cumbrian Heritage. Produced, filmed, and edited by Abbey Wilkinson and Georgia Costin, the film recently won a national award from the Royal Television Society. A news release reported that “The jury said this was a clear and powerful film, making an impassioned argument for not losing touch with your roots.” (1)

The co-creators were students at the University of Cumbria. The leader of their degree program said, “Their close connection has resulted in this award-winning creation that is now recognised for its excellence. The film brings together all of their talents from photography and producing film to science, natural history, conservation and story-telling.” One of their talents was flying a drone to get footage! The program leader also said, “Long-serving colleagues can not remember the last time someone from our university won a national RTS award like this.”

After a field trip on the fell, the co-creators were invited to a local pub to hear farming families talk about the ponies. About the film co-creator Abbey said, “I knew instantly that we had to tell their story… to give the farmers a voice in a way that hasn’t really been done much this way before.”

The pony breeders in the film, Libby Robinson and Samantha Smith, said that the Fell Pony is Cumbria’s best kept secret, and they were working to change that. Their work with the co-creators of this film and now with the film’s award-winning recognition, certainly helps advance that cause.

Hooray for film makers and fell breeders and Fell Ponies!

To watch the film, click here.

1. https://cumbriacrack.com/2024/06/26/watch-fell-ponies-on-film-scoops-major-award/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR0hsg9aiZw0PlwTkDOX160-gn_9odkPz2j65uh-wXtY7Vo2nUMeFjh2z1Y_aem_I7BcrVCAS1galTIrcbMmtQ

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2024

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.

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

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