Jackson's Present

Jackson, Linda, and Asi

My neighbor Linda stopped me on the road and said, “We were coming to look for you.  Jackson got you a present.”  Jackson, Linda’s 2-year-old granddaughter, was sitting in the passenger seat of Linda’s Jeep.  Linda asked Jackson to hand something to her, and then Linda handed it to me.  “Asi!” she said.

Linda and Jackson had been to the farm supply store.  While there, Jackson had surprised Linda by saying “Asi!”  Asi is my Fell Pony stallion whom Jackson sees whenever she comes to the ranch to visit.  On the store shelf was a small figurine of a black stallion with flowing mane and tail.  Actually, there were three of them, and Jackson had to have all three.  One for her room here at the ranch, one for her room at home, and one for me.

I was, of course, incredibly touched.  And terribly impressed.  That Jackson at her young age would see a resemblance between Asi and the figurine – well, kids are amazing!  And then that she would want to have three figurines of Asi and give one to me – well, kids are amazing!  Linda and I often chuckle together about Jackson’s preference for pink and purple clothes and toys, but more often than not, there’s a horse theme to them.  As Jackson’s mom told me once, “Linda may get her veterinarian granddaughter yet!”

This story got even better two days later.  Jackson had returned home with her parents for her first day at preschool.  Linda couldn’t wait to show me the picture on her phone that she received.  Pointing, she said, “Aimee!”  Jackson was holding a small black stuffed pony that she had named after my young Fell Pony filly.  Jackson and Aimee have known each other since a few days after Aimee was born, and Jackson asks to visit Aimee every time she comes to the ranch.  They seem to have a mutual admiration society.  Only now I understand how deep Jackson’s admiration of Aimee is.  First day of school?  Really? Amazing!

I am keeping the figurine that Jackson gave me at the barn.  Each day when I do my chores I take it out of my feed shed and put it where it can watch over the pony proceedings.  While it might look more like a Friesian than a Fell Pony stallion to some, to me it will always be Asi, thanks to Jackson!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Calista's Comet

I am outside after sundown every night at present,

Tending to my stallion’s wound.

When I came in at dark, a message from a friend

Was the first I’d heard that there’s a comet to see.

I went out again right then to have a look.

It was in vain, though, for I didn’t know enough.

The next day I got guidance in hopes of success,

And I vowed to give viewing another try.

The day was long and after the sun was down,

My resolve about viewing began to waiver.

Going to bed seemed much more attractive.

But then when I went to fetch the mares in,

Calista helped to recharge my resolve again.

She was standing on a knoll all by herself,

Looking to the northwest as if she could see

The comet hidden still by the light of the day

But worthy of her attention in spite of that.

The pictures I’d seen set my expectation

That the comet would be close to the horizon.

I decided then that I would drive to a high place,

Armed with the guidance to find what I sought.

The guidance was to use the Big Dipper’s stars

As an arrow towards where to gaze.

When I arrived up high only two stars were visible

And I wasn’t sure to which Dipper they belonged.

A third one soon appeared but I still couldn’t tell

If the guidance would lead to success.

Minutes ticked by and darkness seemed slow to come,

And my resolve began to waiver once more.

To pass a few moments I pondered my stallion’s wound

And how its dark edges are growing in on pink flesh,

Just as, at the horizon, the darkness of night was closing in

On what lightness was left from the day.

Then I looked up again and there the Big Dipper was

And I lined up the stars of its cup’s base.

Following them, angling down towards the horizon,

I was greatly rewarded to see what I’d come to see.

The comet faintly shone through the day’s end.

My tired eyes made its faint light flicker.

Its tail appeared to move about like a cat’s,

Back and forth, up and down, short and long.

Then as darkness grew, the comet became still

And larger and somehow worthier of awe.

It also stood higher in the sky than I’d expected,

So I returned home to see where it would be.

My house is in a protected hollow.

The protective hills mean my horizon is high.

I was rewarded again, though, as I found my guides,

For the comet was perched just above the hill .

I’m thankful to Calista for helping me view

Comet Neowise in person not just in pictures.

Without her stance on that knoll on the hill,

I might not have seen this comet at all.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

A Pearl Puzzle Piece

I try to start my evening chores an hour and a half before dark.  Right now my evening chores involve bringing in four ponies (two sets of two), putting out two ponies, and cold hosing my stallion’s wound.  When the four ponies who’ve been out all day are in close at day’s end, then I get done earlier.  But during this hot weather we’re experiencing (perhaps normal but hot for us previously-mountain-living folks!), they’ve been laying low midday then go out to actively graze as it cools, so they’re rarely handy for me to bring in.

Gorgeous sunsets are one of the benefits of playing the catch-me game with my puzzle Pearl, barely visible in the midground.

One of the pairs I bring in are my two three year old Fell Pony mares Drybarrows Calista and PrairieJewel Pearl.  When Calista sees me, she comes to me to be haltered and taken in.  Calista is the dominant of the two, so in normal herd dynamics, Pearl would follow us in even without being haltered.  That’s obviously my preference, too, to save me walking all the way back out from the barn to get her.  Pearl, though, has shown she is not herd bound and rarely follows Calista in. Haltering her at the same time as Calista doesn’t work very well either because Pearl moves away from the dominant mare as I approach with her.

Pearl has been a puzzle since she joined my herd (click here to read more).  And her behavior in the evening has only increased my puzzlement.  Not only will she not follow Calista in, but she has preferred to play the catch-me game instead of coming to me to be haltered.  She will move off when I approach, sometimes at a walk, often faster, sometimes towards the barn and sometimes farther away.  One evening when I had to walk a half mile to halter her, reaching her as dusk was headed to dark, I decided a new strategy was in order.

The next night when I approached she and Calista, I gave Calista a treat when she approached, as I normally do to thank her for her cooperation.  But I didn’t halter Calista.  I knew that Calista would follow Pearl and I in; I just needed Pearl’s willingness to be caught.  I then approached Pearl with my hand outstretched and shoulders down and eyes cast down, all the while shooing Calista away.  Pearl let me walk up to her and halter her, and I gave her a treat, the first she’d had from me.  I also gave her several kind words and scratches in her favorite places as I usually do.  The treat, though, caught her attention.  We went to the barn with Calista following, and we ended the day on a good note.

The next night and then the next, I was able to approach Pearl, halter her and bring her in rather than have her run off, with me trudging through falling light after her.  She’s also been asking about getting a treat at other times.  So far I haven’t given her one; I want her to clearly understand the circumstances in which she gets that reward.  And I want to clearly understand what it is about our new routine that is motivating her better behavior.  I feel like I have a new piece of the puzzle that is Pearl, and there are a lot more to be discovered.  I look forward to finding the next one!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

My Puzzle Pearl

I was absorbed in my own thoughts in the pasture when I felt a light touch on my sleeve.  I turned to find my three-year-old Fell Pony mare Pearl beside me.  As I stroked her and scratched her in her favorite places, she pricked her ears forward and stood still and relaxed, seeming to truly enjoy our time together.  This exchange was a thrill for me because Pearl has been a bit of a puzzle, a good kind of puzzle, but a puzzle nonetheless.

The last thing her breeder told me about Pearl when I decided to bring her home was that she lays her ears back but she hasn’t ever done anything mean.  I was somewhat surprised to hear this because I hadn’t seen the behavior when I’d been with her in her herd there.  But after bringing her home, I quickly became familiar with that expression on Pearl’s face, and her breeder was right; she wasn’t doing it out of meanness.  In time I came to understand it as an expression of unconfidence.  Then a friend said that that sort of expression of unconfidence is relatively common in equines yet often misunderstood.  I completely understand why.

While it was easy to think that Pearl’s laying her ears back was a communication of aggression, my instincts told me otherwise. 
Nonetheless, I watched her turn her butt to the other mares and kick at them, but with a fence in between.  Then I found out that when she was turned in with the other mares, it was the other way around – Pearl was getting the kicking rather than giving it.  She put up a tough girl look that really wasn’t representative of her nature.  She has shown me that treating her as though she’s being aggressive isn’t a way to make progress.

I figured that in time as Pearl got to know me and my ways of communicating with her, she would come around, and I was right.  Now I’m able to ask a little more of her in our ground work, and with that has come an increased understanding of what I expect.  And also with that has come the small uptick in her confidence that is expressed by her approaching me for attention and putting her ears forward when she’s with me.

We still have much work ahead of us to get her confidence even close to that of my other mares.  For instance, one evening when I really needed Pearl to come to me to be haltered, she instead ran off, costing me a sleepless night and veterinary bills when another pony ran after her and had a close encounter with a fence that I wish they hadn’t had.  I have dug down deep to not blame Pearl, and it really helped when she touched my sleeve as a reminder that she’s trying.  And my other mares are a daily reminder that in time Pearl and I will get to the type of relationship that I want and need with my ponies.  In the meantime I will enjoy solving the puzzle of Pearl.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Madie Made It Easy

I am very thankful to my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Spring Maiden for how easy on me she made her daughter Aimee’s birth.  For instance, Madie let her milk down less than 24 hours before foaling, and when I tested it, the pH indicated that she would give birth within 24 hours.  With her first foal, Madie defied the pH test and took ten days before foaling, which translated to lots of sleep deprivation.  Not this time.  The test results made an accurate prediction!

In the morning I put Madie out with the herd, but I checked her at 2pm. Unlike previous days when she’d seen me on the hill and walked away, this time she came to me. She had looked physically uncomfortable in the morning, and she did at this point in the afternoon, too, confirming my earlier sense that she was in labor. I haltered her and brought her in for the rest of the day.

When I checked Madie at dusk, I was even more convinced that she would foal that night because she was starting to drip milk (not just wax.)  I also checked the weather forecast, and a storm was due to move in, which has been a fairly consistent theme when my mares choose to foal.  Normally I would check a mare several times during the night to make sure that foaling went okay.  The first time she foaled, though, Madie made it clear she did not want us present, so this time I told her I would be out halfway through the night.  When I checked her at 2am, Aimee was on the ground but still wet, the placenta was still warm but had been expelled, and there were snowflakes in the air – all as it was meant to be!

After foaling, my job is to watch for milestones in the foal and mare.  In the foal I watch for urinating, defecating, nursing, and napping.  Aimee was cooperative in all but defecating.  It was so dark, though, that I wondered if I had missed Aimee passing her meconium.  When I mused aloud about this while standing next to Madie, she touched my arm with her nose then lowered her head to point to a dark spot on the ground.  I pulled out a flashlight, and sure enough, there was a pile of meconium.  As you would expect, I was struck by how Madie had understood my question and answered it!

In my mare herd, Madie is low pony on the dominance chart, so I don’t spend as much time with her as I do with the more dominant ponies.  Having her in the foaling shed at night has given me a chance to get to know her again.  She definitely reminds me of her mother Restar Mountain Shelley III who also made so many things easy on me.  What a blessing life is with these ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

More stories about how amazing life with these ponies is can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Feeding Weanlings

When I first learned about Fell Ponies, I thought, rightly, that their hardiness and easy-keeping qualities would make them a good fit for the Rocky Mountain environment I called home. Indeed they endured winters of three or four feet of snow without difficulty, often to be found during a storm with several inches of snow accumulated on their backs. When I began keeping weanlings through the winter, though, I learned quickly that many of them needed different care than older ponies.

On my first trip to the homeland of the Fell Pony in Cumbria, England, one of the hill breeders I visited had three weanlings in a large, well-lit shed. Later I observed that other hill breeders similarly keep their weanlings indoors or in sheds all winter where they can be fed and protected from the weather. This practice explained why the youngstock that I have imported from England are all much more physically mature than the ponies I raise at home at the same age. Over my two decades of breeding these ponies, I’ve observed that weanlings through to yearlings put all their extra calories into growing, so that they have to be monitored closely in extreme winter weather conditions to ensure they stay in good condition.

In the winter weather of my Colorado home, my Fell Pony weanlings put on quite a fluffy coat. Some of them developed an almost fleece like layer that was as much as two inches think. I quickly learned that it is critical, when monitoring weanlings in cold climates, to work my fingers deep under their coats to the skin to assess body condition. Feeling the ribs doesn’t necessarily mean a pony is too thin; in the Henneke Body Condition Score, moderate or acceptable condition is “Ribs cannot be visually distinguished but can be easily felt.” (1) There’s no way you can visually distinguish ribs under that typical weanling fleece coat, so in addition to palpating the ribs, I have found that palpating the withers is helpful in assessing condition. If I find a hollowness behind the withers then I know that a weanling’s condition needs to be improved. Sometimes I can also get good information by stroking the neck, though that typically gives the best information when done frequently so that changes can be noted. (Click here for more information on assessing body condition.)

What I have found that pony weanlings need more than their older relations in tough winter conditions is digestible energy with low non-structural carbohydrates. Non-structural carbohydrates (NSC) are the sugars and starches in feed that cause glycemic reactions in equines which can lead to digestive upsets, colic and founder, among other diseases. Hay causes a very low glycemic reaction; oats, corn and barley create large swings. NSC values, then, are a measure of the possible glycemic reaction. Typical sweet feeds have an NSC content of 67%, while low-NSC products typically range from 9 to 20 percent. Low NSC feeds are designed to give extra high-quality calories without triggering a glycemic response.

I’ve now moved from my Colorado location and its very snowy winters to South Dakota. We still have real winter with prolonged cold and some snow, but my ponies are eating less hay and more pasture. How I need to care for my weanlings, though, seems similar so far. They do best out with the herd as much as practical, but then need that extra help from regular supplementation of digestible energy. Just like in Colorado, anything extra that they get is put into growth, with just enough flesh to stay warm. So they get very used to me prodding under their heavy coats to see how much flesh they have covering their bones to make sure I’m giving them enough. And they get used to eating their feed with me holding the bucket so they don’t spill those precious calories!

1. https://thehorse.com/164978/body-condition-scoring-horses-step-by-step/

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Welcome Willowtrail Aimee!

Willowtrail Aimee

From the moment we met, we’ve liked each other.  I first laid eyes on Willowtrail Aimee about an hour after she was born, about 2am.  I hung out until 3:30 when the clothes I’d rapidly put on weren’t enough for the snowflakes spitting from the sky.  I went inside to change then came back out, and when she heard my voice, she nickered at me!

As the day-old photo shows, she has been my shadow whenever I let her.  That fact and our affection suggested her name.  I was a student of the French language when I was younger (fluent in high school but don’t test me now!).  One of the first verbs we learned was ‘to like’ or aimer (pronounced somewhere between ay-may and ee-mee.  Aimee is usually translated as ‘beloved.’  One of the other verbs we learned early was ‘to help’ or aider (pronounced somewhere between ay-day and Eddie).  Since the filly and I liked each other and she was such a helper with all my foaling stall chores, the name Aimee (pronounced like Amy) seemed to fit!

I look forward to getting to know Aimee better as her life unfolds.  I will enjoy watching her grow up in an environment more like the Cumbrian fells than I’ve ever been able to provide my foals before.  Aimee is out of Willowtrail Spring Maiden (a fabulous mom) and by Kinniside Asi.  Aimee is Asi’s third offspring and second daughter.  Aimee is Madie’s second daughter.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

To read stories about the other Fell Ponies at Willowtrail Farm in my various books, click here.

Ross Did Me Proud!

We arrived in Laramie, Wyoming an hour before the arranged meeting time.  The early arrival was by design; I wanted yearling Fell Pony Willowtrail Ross to have time to eat before undertaking the second half of his journey to his new home.  He appreciatively dove into the hay in the trailer, and I walked my dogs and ate my lunch.

My friend Mike who lived nearby surprised me by coming to visit us, and one of his objectives was to take a picture of the transfer of Ross between trailers.  Then after Ross’s new owner arrived, she expressed thinly veiled concern about Ross loading into her trailer.  Figuratively, the pressure was on.  I admit to wondering how it would go once I saw the other trailer.  The step up was bigger than anything I’d yet asked Ross to do, more than 15”.  Nonetheless, I knew I could get him loaded eventually, so I said nothing and we completed the business portion of the transfer and prepared the other trailer to house Ross for the next several hours.

I had mistakenly left behind Ross’s halter and lead rope, so I used one I had in my trailer and was pleased when he didn’t indicate any concern about the unfamiliar tack in already unfamiliar surroundings.  Then Ross and I unloaded out of my trailer, and Mike snapped the picture here.  Ross’s owner’s trailer was parked right next to mine, so I led him the few feet between and stepped up into the other trailer and ahead into the stall.  I heard Ross follow me without any hesitation at all, and I was one proud pony trainer!  We all laughed though because it happened so fast that Mike wasn’t able to get the picture he’d come to take!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Out of the Draw

Between the barn where I do most of my work with my ponies and the hill, there is a draw.  In the picture, the trees between Calista and me and the barn are in the draw.  The ponies are of course quite adept at following their favorite paths down off the hill into the draw and back up the other side, usually at a decent rate of speed.  I, on the other hand when traversing the draw, take a very thoughtful approach, seeking out the least elevation change possible to accomplish my goals.  Except when I am with a pony.

Most often it is my lead Fell Pony mare Bowthorne Matty who assists me with navigating the draw. Most of the time I’m navigating the draw when I’m bringing the mares in, and I use Matty’s influence on the rest of the herd to draw them along with us.  If I ride Matty, then we stop at the top of the draw on the hill side, and I dismount; there are numerous low-hanging branches that I’m not interested in encountering on her back.  Going down into the draw she is always very respectful, staying back so as to not step on my heels.  Going up the other side, though, she comes alongside me, and I willingly get her help to get out of the draw. 

The help I get is a handful of mane.  I grab on and where normally Matty would outpace me going up the hill, I am able to keep up because she pulls me along (as long as I keep my feet going!)  We have done it often enough now that she knows we stop at the top of the draw where I say thank you and release my handful of mane.   I am starting to realize how this quiet, undemanding mare has given me a partnership I didn’t know we had.  What a blessing this life with ponies is.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Being Available When They Offer

I am fortunate to have created a life in which I can be available when my Fell Ponies offer something interesting.  One morning when I went out to bring the mares in, I realized the benefits of having this life.  Two of the four mares were sunbathing, and the other two were grazing nearby.  When the mares saw me, the lead and second mare, who had been napping but got up, started walking toward me to greet me.  When I got to the lead mare, who I planned to ride in, she was next to the mare still lying down. 

I greeted the lead mare then dropped the rope hackamore and knelt down to greet the recumbent pony.  She remained where she was as I scratched her withers, and I felt privileged as I always do when my ponies allow me to touch them when they’re lying down.  I pulled out my camera and succeeded in snapping the picture here.  Then I got up to return to the job at hand, bringing the mares into the barn. 

When I got up, I suddenly realized what the lead mare was offering me.  The other two ponies had begun to make their way to the barn, but the lead mare had stayed right there with me, as if looking forward to our ride in as much as I was.  I picked up the hackamore, tied it on her, and jumped on her back.  Two gifts from my ponies - the lead mare remaining and the recumbent pony allowing a photograph - made me appreciate again being available when my ponies offer.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

An Assumption Fortunately Affirmed

I got a ride in, but it wasn’t the one I’d intended.  The weather had slightly improved, so I was looking forward to reuniting with my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose. The mares didn’t come in, though, and I needed them in so I could tease and be able to plan my breeding season.  So instead of a ride on Rose, my priority was finding the mares out on the hill and bringing them in.

While the weather was improved, as in slightly warmer, the wind had started to pick up again.  The day before had been really unpleasant, with ice crystals driven so hard that they hurt my face when they impacted.  I realized as I went looking for the mares that they were showing sense by being holed up somewhere out of the wind.  And that made me realize the assumption I had made when I moved here, an assumption fortunately affirmed.

We all were in Colorado together for many years, so the places that we spent time were well known to all of us and therefore the ponies knew how to get out of the weather when they needed to.  When I moved, I assumed the ponies would figure out the same thing here, that they would move to get out of wind or heavy snow or sun.  Behind that assumption, though, was another assumption, that they would explore their new place and remember where the best places to go were when they needed them.

I did what I could to help them learn our new place after we arrived, walking them entirely around their hill pasture and showing them where their sheds with minerals were and where water is.  What I didn’t do, I now realized, was take them to likely protected spots when the weather turned.  I had assumed they would return to those spots on their own.  Fortunately for me, (or I would have felt really guilty!), they did seek out those protected spots, like they had on this morning, on their own.  I couldn’t really blame them for not being at the barn when I was ready to start chores because they would have had to stand out in the wind awaiting my arrival.

As I rode the head mare Bowthorne Matty towards the barn with the rest of the herd following, I pondered whether all equines would have figured out where to seek shelter from weather after moving to a new place like we had.  Then I remember a gelding I had once who stood out in a hail storm, trying to tuck his legs under his body and hunching against the maelstrom, instead of seeking shelter in his shed.  I went out into the storm and led him to his shelter, where he stayed and seemed sheepishly thankful.  That memory made me even more thankful for my Fell Ponies whose natural instincts are endlessly fascinating to watch and learn from.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

The Gentleman and the Devil

The gentleman Ross gets his photo taken standing tied later in the day that he was a devil!

Willowtrail Ross, my 9 month old Fell Pony gelding, utilized a hole in the pasture fence three times before I found it.  He was after the lawn in front of my house, considering it more appealing than the hill where the pony herd roams.  The lawn was definitely lusher and exotic compared to the native grasses on the hill.  And definitely not something I wanted him consuming a lot of!

The first two times he was out were during the late afternoon, and I walked up to him with a halter, put it on him, and returned him to the hill.  Not so the third time.  I woke up and looked out the window to see him grazing as fast as he could, with the rest of the herd looking longingly over the fence at him.  I threw on some clothes and headed out, grabbing a halter and lead rope out of one of my horse trailers that was parked nearby.  I walked towards Ross as I had previous times, and I saw him take a step away when I got within twenty feet.  Hmmm.  I thought, this is different.  Sure enough, he wouldn’t let me come any closer than twenty feet.

I’d had enough of that game before very long, so I swung the lead rope any time he put his head down to graze.  He soon recognized the pattern and let me come closer. I was able to give him a good scratch but before I could put the halter on, he moved off.  I realized the halter I had picked up was different than the one he usually wears – an adjustable web-type with a loose snap ring that jingled when I moved – so I went to get a halter more familiar to him.  This time I was able to get close enough to give him a good scratch and get the halter on his nose, but he reared into the air before I could get it fully on him.   Hmmm, indeed!

I knew what the problem was.  I’d experienced it once before with one of his older sisters.  Too much rich feed.  With his sister, it was just a few days before her new owner was due to come pick her up, and I couldn’t get a halter on her.  I was panicky until I figured out the problem.  Within two days of reducing the rich portion of her feed, she was back to her normal compliant self.  I was reminded of what happened once when I fed some neighbor children brownies with raspberry jam topping.  They went from being polite and mild-mannered to ill-behaved and needing to move-move-move!  The same thing happens to ponies.  I did eventually get Ross reunited with the herd, by haltering his mom and using her influence on him to get him through a gate back onto the hill. 

A few hours later, when I had the herd in for their feed buckets and daily handling, Ross approached me in the paddock to say hello, back to being his normal gentlemanly self.  It almost felt like he was apologizing.  When it came time to halter him, I approached with lots of question marks in my head, but I tried to keep my concerns well-muffled.  He let me halter him as usual.

Later, when I thought back on Ross in his devil mode, I thought I might have been more successful with him if there hadn’t been so many unusual circumstances.  He had been separated from the herd (just by a wire fence but separated, nonetheless), I was trying to halter him while the rest of the herd was loose (usually I halter him last after everyone else is standing tied), I was wearing loose-fitting clothing that was unfamiliar to him, and I tried to use that unfamiliar halter.  The best strategy for keeping Ross in his gentleman mode, though, is to not let him get in the candy shop.  I found his hole in the fence later that day and repaired it!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

More stories from my life with Fell Ponies can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Another Worry 'Stone'!

Drybarrows Calista, one of the ponies from whom my most recent worry ‘stone’ may have come from.

Over the past few years, I have collected quite a number.  It hasn’t been entirely intentional because most of them I’ve just happened upon in the paddocks while I’m feeding.  They all are on my desk where I can pick them up and handle them when my stress level rises or when I’m on the phone and need something to occupy my hands.  They are not conventional worry stones.  They are pony teeth.

All but one are temporary teeth shed naturally by my Fell Pony youngstock, usually when they are three years old.  The exception is the largest one, a permanent tooth that my smallest, Mya the Wonder Pony, lost when she was 28.  Most of these teeth are caps from Kinniside Asi, my now four year old stallion.  I found them last year and the year before while feeding in his paddock.  Apparently the ground conditions allowed them to stand out so I could see them.  Or perhaps I was meant to find them to assemble this collection of worry ‘stones!’  One cap is from Willowtrail Mountain Honey when she was three. 

I have two three year olds in my herd at the moment:  Drybarrows Calista and PrairieJewel Pearl.  The milk tooth I just found is from one of them.   I am happy to add it to my collection!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Exploring

By far, the riding I have done with my ponies over the past two decades has been of a single type.  I have gone out, sometimes on trails, sometimes off trail, exploring.  Sometimes the route is entirely new to me, and sometimes it is familiar.  Even familiar routes, though, are new every time, due to weather or the pony I am riding or changes in the landscape (downed trees, for instance) or the time of day or the wildlife that is about or the dogs that are accompanying us.  Only very, very rarely have I gone out riding with another person.

Rose and I out exploring

When I am new to a place, the exploring has more dimensions of course.  I am truly exploring a landscape for the first time, learning where routes go and how each route relates to another and what routes might be worth exploring further.  The first two places that were entirely new to me I explored with the same pony, Mya the Wonder Pony.  I know now that I took for granted Mya’s suitability to the role of fellow explorer.  She was level-headed and sure-footed and slow to spook and alert without being on edge.  I still remember vividly the first time we encountered a bear while out riding.  She stopped and looked at it, allowing me to do the same, until it wandered off.  She didn’t snort or get busy feet or get tense.  She gave me confidence to continue taking our exploratory rides.  Mya is now retired and elsewhere, and I have a new place to explore. 

I have been bringing my homebred Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose along in her ridden work.  Exploring was not something she took to when we began.  Every time out she had new reactions to new things and new reactions to things we’d seen before.  I came close to giving up hope that she’d ever be my fellow explorer, since newness is inherent to exploring.  Then one day things seemed to change.

I had learned of a new route.  Previously I had been taking Rose on the same route day after day, adding distance usually but sometimes asking her to tolerate different weather or ground conditions or cattle populations.  Then I asked her to tolerate my dogs going with us.  That seemed to be easier for her than many of the other things I’d asked.  And one day I decided to try the new route.

The new route involved not only new scenery but also elevation changes and close foliage and a building she’d never seen up close before.  And the dogs were along.  It was a beautiful day, and for me it was even more beautiful because Rose carried me safely and sanely on the new route with all its newness without complaint.  I was ecstatic.

Nearly every day since, we’ve gone exploring.  Nearly every day we are going someplace we’ve never been before.  And since I live at the bottom of a valley/canyon, nearly everywhere we go has elevation change (and views!)  A month or two months or three months ago I would not have believed you if you’d told me Rose and I would be exploring our new place with my dogs.  She hasn’t yet achieved Mya’s standard of fellow explorer, but now I believe that we can get there, and I’m excited by the possibility.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Following the Willow Trail in Search of Burdock

After yet another 45 minute session removing burrs from a pony’s forelock, I decided it was such a nice day that I would begin my burdock eradication program.  It is a program I will be working on for the rest of my life, but even if I save myself a few hours a year, it will be worth it!  And it wasn’t just the ponies that motivated me.  My puppy is much less tolerant of having burrs removed from his coat than they are, so in the interest of our relationship, I decided it was a program needing to be begun.  Plus the dogs loved running around and we of course saw the ponies while we were out!

What an amazing amount of havoc a small amount of burrs can create! This is Willowtrail Spring Maiden.

I was asked recently what the meaning of my farm name, Willowtrail, is.  I wanted a name that reflected where I live, yet I knew my life might cause me to relocate occasionally, so it had to be a name that was applicable to the type of terrain that I prefer to live in.  In the dry climate of this region of the world, members of the willow (Salicaceae) family are usually found along water courses or in low spots, and flowing water can be considered a trail, hence Willowtrail.  At the first farm where I had Fell Ponies, Turkey Trot Springs, the dominant willow family member was cottonwood.  In the high mountains of Colorado, it was aspen and various willow species, and here in South Dakota I am amongst cottonwood again. 

It was at Turkey Trot Springs that I first learned the consequences of Fell Ponies meeting burdock.  There burdock was found in heavy shade underneath the cottonwood trees, so I was pretty certain that the ponies were finding the burdock here in South Dakota down in the ravine where the cottonwoods are.  This time of year, of course, the burdock plants are dead, so I was in search of bushes that still had burrs on them.  It wasn’t long before I learned that here burdock also seems to have an affinity for the shade of juniper trees.

My plan for eradication at the moment is to harvest as many burrs as I can find before the ponies find them and at the same time learn where the plants are growing.  My tools were garden clippers, purchased decades ago to cut flowers from my garden (when I had a garden!), and a feed sack to put the seed heads in, later to be burned.  I got a good laugh at the number of burdock stalks that I encountered that no longer had seed heads.  I knew who had collected them!  But in less than an hour, I had made a good harvest and progressed a hundred yards or so down the ravine.  Humorously, my harvest represented about the quantity that I currently need to remove from my ponies’ hair!  On my return from seeing the ponies, I walked the rest of the ravine, and there is lots of work left to do!  In the process I found my prize for the day, a beautiful feather.

Burdock is considered a medicinal plant.  Nearly all parts of the plant – fruit, seeds, roots, and leaves – are used to address conditions as diverse as colds, gout, cancer, and stomach ailments.  I found several stalks that had been eaten down (presumably after the burrs had been ‘removed’), so I wonder what ailment and what animal was responsible for that harvest.

I am looking forward to my next foray onto the willow trail to harvest burdock.  It is a job whose benefits I well appreciate!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Fetching Pearl

Pearl coming to me - what a blessing! - and Ace, my Aussie puppy companion

It was nearing the end of daylight hours when I headed out with my two Australian Shepherds. Our objective was to fetch my new Fell Pony Pearl in for the night.  I had put her out on the hill with the rest of the ponies, but the day before when I had done the same thing, she had not stayed with them.  She had met me at the gate at the barn, and I had put her in.  This time, Pearl didn’t meet me at the gate, but when I found the main herd on the hill, Pearl was not with them either.  Apparently the mares still weren’t letting Pearl hang at the periphery of the herd.  I had hoped one of the mares had befriended her, but I was wrong.

It had been snowing lightly all day, so I thought I would be able to track Pearl to her location.  I was able to rule out one direction of travel, but in the other direction, the wild turkeys had been there before me and had scratched away pony tracks if there had been any.  As I contemplated where to look next, I saw in the distance some steers looking over the pasture fence, so I headed in their direction in case Pearl was the object of their gaze.

After walking the eighth of a mile west, I found that indeed the steers had correctly communicated to me Pearl’s whereabouts.  Across a ravine, the pony herd watched me closely from a distance as I approached Pearl.  I was thrilled when she came walking toward me, though I sighed a little dejectedly to see her tail and forelock sticking out at right angles due to Pearl discovering cockleburs during her day out.  That was a problem I could deal with later.  My more immediate concern was getting Pearl back to the barn without ‘help’ from the rest of the herd.  Especially since the path to the barn narrowed considerably along the fence at the top of the ravine.

After haltering her, Pearl and I began walking along the fence bordering the steer pasture then along the first paddock called the windbreak.  Bless my puppy Ace for his companionship, but he could sense that things were a little tense and he wanted to be right in front of me on the narrow path, essentially underfoot.  The steers from their side of the fence were fascinated and watched the three of us keenly.  And on the other side, the mares were watching from across the ravine.  I was pleased that Pearl remained calm about the steers since they were so close at hand and that she was accustomed to having Ace around her feet. 

The mares watching Pearl, Ace and I walking along the fence

Then my fears were realized when the mares started coming towards us, down into the ravine and then back up on our side at speed.  Pearl also saw this change and became more concerned.  I quickly assessed our options while I put myself between Pearl and the other ponies.  I didn’t have an extra lead rope to use to drive the other mares farther away, and they tried to crowd us whenever I didn't swing the end of Pearl’s lead at them.

I decided my best option was to go into the windbreak and take our chances with the steers who were following us on their side of the fence, rather than fend off five mares all the way back to the barn on a narrow path.  The first gate we came to required more work to operate than I could manage while holding off the herd.  The next gate not too far ahead I had used once before, so we headed for that, with me looking over my shoulder to make sure the mares didn’t get too close to Pearl and possibly push her into me.  And of course trying not to trip on Ace.  The good news was that Pearl, while very concerned, was willing to listen to me, stopping and starting when I did and letting me get around her to drive the herd back when I needed to, with neither of us stepping on Ace.

I got the gate open while occasionally pushing the mares back, but it didn’t open very far, so I had to convince a reluctant Pearl that going through the narrow opening was a better option than staying out with the mares.  Fortunately she finally agreed, and I got the gate shut behind us.  Whew!  Now I could assess our next obstacle.  Who needs games when real life can be this entertaining!

Tika pushing heifers a few weeks before, showing me she knew the job!

There were about two dozen steers at the top of the windbreak where the gate out to the road was.  At that moment I was very thankful that my neighbor Bruce had suggested that we test my dog Tika on a herd of heifers a few weeks back to check out her working instincts.  I learned that day that she was willing to push the herd from the rear and more importantly that she would stop when I told her she’d pushed enough.  So I told Tika to push, and she moved the steers away from us until I told her to stop, and we got to the gate and then out onto the road without any steers joining us.

I didn’t realize that getting to the road wasn’t the end of our obstacles.  There was one more test of Pearl’s and my relationship to come.  Pearl hadn’t ever been on the ranch road, and between the windbreak and the barn were several paddocks of bulls.  It turned out that they weren’t as much cause for concern as something else.  I let my guard down a little, only to have Pearl suddenly start trotting by me.  On the other side of the road were my neighbor Linda’s two horses who had apparently been watching the unfolding drama of fetching Pearl.  They had decided they should add to the game by galloping by us on their side of the fence.  And then in response the mares began galloping along the fence on the other side of the bulls.  I was once again pleased when Pearl came back down to a walk when I asked despite all the high equine energy around us.

Pearl has been here over two weeks already, but I hadn’t felt ready to put her on the hill until now.  I wanted to establish a relationship with her so that she knew what she could expect from me and I knew what I could expect from her.  For instance, Pearl needed to know that my approach is friendly, and I needed to know she wouldn’t run the other way when she saw me.  I needed to know that I could lead her without her running into me, and she needed to know that I could ask her to do things that seemed odd but ended up being worthwhile.  Those two weeks of bonding certainly proved their worth on our obstacle-filled walk back to the barn.  And ever since, Pearl has been even more interested in interacting with me.  She apparently finds this life entertaining, too!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

There are lots of stories like this one about my life with Fell Ponies in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Sire Qualities

Kinniside Asi and his ladies-in-waiting

I was asked what I like about my Fell Pony stallion.  The question was posed as if a single answer was expected, with a list of possible choices.  I had to stop and think about it.  I had never considered the choice of a stallion to be a single factor decision.

Now that I live on a cattle ranch, I’m learning about the stewardship of another species.  My friendship with Bruce and Linda, who own the ranch, began with conversations about the art of breeding.  Right now, it is bull-buying season, and Bruce gave me a catalog for an upcoming bull sale to study.  He gave me a few pointers to get me started, and I soon became fascinated by how many factors beyond conformation can be used in a purchase and breeding decision.  For instance, there are measures of scrotal circumference, calving ease, and weight gain.  There is data about birth weight, weaning weight, and yearling weight.  This is my first exposure to high-volume breeding, and it certainly makes sense that there would be lots of data collected, analyzed and regurgitated. Yet it isn’t uncommon for buyers who have studied all the data to show up on the day and see something in the flesh that wasn’t in the numbers that ends up changing their purchase decision.

That trove of data is such a contrast to the information I have when I want to choose a Fell Pony stallion and what is required to collect it.  Our breeding population is so small by contrast, and the number of breeders is also small and dispersed.  Yet the one thing I quickly learned while watching an auction of bulls is that buyers rarely are purchasing based on a single factor.  So I’m not alone!

In case you’re curious, here’s how I answered the question about what I like about my stallion.  “I suspect you won’t be satisfied if I said it was the whole package, so I'll say that I met all his grandparents which indicated a consistency of type behind him. I was pleased with his offspring last year.  I love his type, bone, substance, and movement. He's interested in learning and great at giving hugs when I need them. So there's a few of the things I like about him!”

When I asked a bull buyer what they saw in their purchase that led them to bid as they had, I got a similarly broad answer with a similar lead-off about ‘the whole package.’    Despite all that data, breeding is still an art.  Informed by science perhaps, but still an art!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

What She Did Next

I knew I was jinxing myself when I said that my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose’s preferred acts of disapproval didn’t include bucking, bolting, or rearing.  She is an equine after all, not an automobile, so certainly at some point there would be something that would set her off.  Even Mya the Wonder Pony, who was stellar in so very many ways, once bucked me off!

But it was what Rose did next that spoke volumes.  The morning after, when she first saw me, instead of walking by while I was holding open the gate, she stopped to check in with me.  Then a little while later she was nearly perfect on our ride, including during a desensitization session that for the few prior days had been challenging for her.

The day before, we had gone out on our ride down the ranch lane as usual, but the calves hadn’t been fed.  And since the last time we’d ridden before feeding time, the population of the pasture had grown noticeably.  Nonetheless Rose did very well until we got to a section of a trail we hadn’t ridden before.  Calves were below us but out of sight behind brush, making noise as they broke twigs or crunched through ice.  I dismounted to walk the new section, allowing Rose to experience the newness without the added stress of me on her back.  She was on high alert until we returned to familiar ground, at which time I remounted.  I could tell she was still a little strung out, but we continued safely back to whence we’d come.  As we had been doing, we trotted the section on the ranch lane along the calf pasture.  I let her get going a little faster than I should have for the conditions, and when I asked her to reduce her speed, I lost a stirrup.

As all equestrians eventually learn, things can happen in an instant.  I lost a stirrup.  It flipped up and backward, hitting Rose in her flank.  Rose twisted and kicked up at it, and I went off.  As soon as I was able, I got onto my feet, taking a few deep breaths to will my body to be just fine.  I then realized that Rose was standing where she had been when I came off, watching me.  Then she came quietly to me, allowing me to lean on her as I recovered my composure.  I was overwhelmed at this gesture.  She didn’t run all the way back to the barn or anywhere else.  She stayed with me and offered what help she could.  Eventually I mounted and we rode the remaining distance to the barn, and I was thankful I didn’t have to walk on my wobbly legs.

I of course take full responsibility for this incident.  In the course of Rose’s training I did what I do with all my ponies, let them walk then trot on-line with the stirrups dangling and flailing around because at some time in their life they’re going to need to know that that situation isn’t an indication of the world coming to an end.  But as my colleague the master horseman Doc Hammill said when I told him this story, I didn’t do that desensitization work in the full context of that day.  Nonetheless, what Rose did next was what mattered most to me.  It was feedback that I had prepared her reasonably well.  What she did next was to stay with me and offer the help that she could.  For that I am truly grateful.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Welcome Pearl!

Watching Pearl trot stops me in my tracks!

I’m pleased to welcome Prairie Jewel Pearl to the Fell Pony herd at Willowtrail Farm.  Bred by Gina Schaffert at Prairie Jewel Farm in Nebraska, Pearl is three years old and is my first brown Fell.  I especially love her eyeliner and lips!  And I love to see her move; her trot especially stops me in my tracks.

I first met Gina and her Fell Ponies back in October when I visited while traveling through.  I was completely surprised that I fell for her stallion, Laurelhighland Model.  I didn’t expect to like him; I’ve met so many Fell Ponies that haven’t struck my fancy that I try to keep my expectations low.  In the minutes after I first met him as I was talking to Gina, I laughed in recognition.  Of course!  He’s out of a Sleddale mare!  My first Fell Pony was a Sleddale mare; Sleddale Rose Beauty cemented my love for this breed.  Of course I would fall for a son of a Sleddale mare, in this case Sleddale Wild Rose V.

Pearl’s friendly temperament on display - seeming to want to listen in to Bruce’s phone call!

In January I visited Gina again while traveling through, this time with my friend Linda who has quickly developed an eye for ponies based on her past as a horse judge.  Linda, too, was taken with Model, and then she noticed Pearl.  Pearl and her mother were very friendly, making a point of introducing themselves to me.  Before we left that day, Gina and I were in discussions about Pearl joining my herd. I laughed when on Pearl’s first day here, her friendly side manifested when Bruce met her but then had to take a phone call; she acted as though she wanted to listen in, too!

Pearl’s mother also has Sleddale blood behind her.  I have long admired Sleddale Eddie at the Westerkwartier Stud in The Netherlands.  Eddie is Pearl’s great grandfather.  Beauty, Wild Rose V, and Eddie all go back to Sleddale Rose VII who was the dam of the 1979 Breed Show Supreme Champion Sleddale Rose X. 

While Pearl has Rose VII on both sides of her pedigree and she is brown like Rose VII, Pearl’s color actually comes through from Lunesdale White Rose, another favorite mare of mine in this breed. 

Pearl’s father and Gina’s stallion Laurelhighland Model

I love Pearl’s eyeliner and lips!

I’m enjoying getting to know Pearl and look forward to what she will produce with my imported black stallion Kinniside Asi.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

You can find more stories about the Fell Ponies in my herd in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Rose and the Wayward Bulls

These bulls were where they were supposed to be, when we got back to the barn!

I was out on our morning training ride with my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose.  We were on the ranch road, and we came upon Bruce loading hay into his processor.  “A gate got left open and some bulls got out,” he said, pointing at the road ahead.  “I thought you and Rose could put them back in.”  I replied that we’d try, with my brain doing an amazingly quick job of listing all that could go wrong.  But at least we could try!

Bruce advised that we should just approach them and get them moving, giving them room if they wanted to do something unhelpful but that once moving they’d probably go where we needed them to.  This was the total amount of information I had about moving bulls.  I had only ever moved bulls before on equines that knew their job, most recently on Mya the Wonder Pony, and that was fifteen years ago!  So Rose and I approached the bull on the road at a walk, and he just watched us.  The two in the borrow ditches on each side eyed us, too.  We kept approaching, and the bull kept watching, not making any sign of moving away.  Soon I heard Bruce come up behind us on foot to add some verbal emphasis with the authority of many decades of experience.  I had thought about swinging a rope but wasn’t sure what Rose would think of yet another new element on our ride.

Fortunately the bull decided to turn and head away, and his friends made the same decision.  Sure enough, as Rose and I followed behind, they moved up the road and through the gate we needed them to go through.  I dismounted, tied Rose, and shut the gate.

At that point Linda arrived and exclaimed, “You moved some bulls, Rose!”  (The picture here was taken several minutes later of bulls back at the barn, nicely where they were supposed to be.)  Rose gladly accepted Linda’s kudos, and I appreciated Linda’s next comment, that the bulls we’d moved were amongst the friendliest on the place.  Good!  Next time they’re out, I’ll try to increase my motivational contributions, with a more assertive voice and perhaps a swinging rope.  But I’ll practice the rope part with Rose between now and then!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

More stories about my life with ponies can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.