Gone in a Single Gust!

At another time when wind took his hay, Asi gave me a look asking for help. Not quite as astonished as the first time!

I went to feed my Fell Pony stallion Asi midday as usual. The weather had turned windy, enough to warrant a weather advisory. I had a second neck gaiter on for the occasion, and I flipped my hood up for extra protection. At Asi’s paddock, I filled a tub with hay and let myself through the gate. I then began spreading hay along the sixty-foot-or-so path that I usually follow, a large handful every pony length or two so that Asi moves as he’s eating as he would while grazing.

He had begun eating at the first pile I dropped, and I continued along the path. As I reached the end, I felt a stronger-than-average wind gust hit my back and watched hay blow past me and out of the paddock under the fence. I looked back where I’d come from, and every bit of hay that I had put out for Asi was completely gone. While that was surprising, what was priceless was the look of utter shock on Asi’s face. His lunch had disappeared before he’d even had a chance to taste it! Of course I didn’t react fast enough to capture his expression. The photo here is a poor approximation at a similar moment when the wind had once again scoured all the hay from his pen. For the duration of the high wind event, I gave him intact wafers in one place that the wind couldn’t easily relocate!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

Rose is Missing

I arrived at the barn after breakfast. As usual my beloved Fell Pony mares were there awaiting my arrival after their night out on the hill. Except Rose was not there. My heart pony was missing.

Rose has a bit of an independent streak, as shown here away from the herd back left. That independent streak of course makes her a great trail pony.

I threw some hay and closed the gate so the other five ponies would stay put, and I opened a gate to the barnyard so that Rose could enter if she showed up. Then I started calling. Usually Rose comes when she hears me, but then usually she is not far from the rest of the mares and this time she was missing, so I was a little concerned. I continued calling as I walked a little way west to get a good view, but then I headed east toward where I had last seen the herd on the hill. And I kept looking back toward the barn hoping Rose would be there, but she wasn’t.

As I kept looking, I alternated between hoping for the best and fearing the worst. I had heard an odd sound while I was eating breakfast, but I hadn’t investigated. Now I feared maybe it had been Rose crying for help, so I looked down steep hillsides and into ravines wondering if she had fallen. Rose is my only pony in my most important conservation line, so I also started the calculus of what I would do if I had lost her. Trying to think positive, I reflected on her independent spirit, illustrated by the photo here of her away from the herd. I willed her to be out there somewhere, safe.

I walked and called for nearly an hour before ending up back at my house ready to request help. Then I saw a black object about a quarter mile to the west on the pony side of the calving pasture fence. Was it a calf loose or was it Rose? I started walking in that direction and indeed it was a pony trotting toward the barn. Relief! And a few choice words about all the worry she caused me! I headed to the barn and greeted her warmly before putting her in with the other mares. I then tried to get past the anxiety that was still running through my body so I could get on with chores. But the story of Rose being missing wasn’t over.

The herd of elk that Rose was near. The pony pasture is over the ridge to the left.

I heard Bruce drive up to the cake bin on the other side of the barn to fill his caker before feeding bulls. I walked over to share about my long, searching walk. He somewhat chastised me for not calling him for help. Then he asked if the missing pony had a star. Yes, I said, thinking it a strange reaction to my story. Then more of Rose’s story came out. Bruce had been feeding the calves to the southwest of the barn when he saw a large herd of elk in the adjacent pasture. His first thought was to wonder how much fence they had ripped out, since that had been a recent regular occurrence. Then he saw a black animal and thought, ‘that bull looks odd.’ Then he realized it wasn’t the resident bull in that pasture, it was an equine. As he drove closer, he saw that it was actually a pony. Rose approached him and willingly went through the gate he opened to return her to the pony pasture. He said she then departed at a very purposeful pace toward the barn.

We may not ever know the rest of Rose’s story from that morning. Why did she stray from the other mares? How did she end up in that other pasture? Did the elk take out fence up higher and she followed them down? She and I had ridden in that other pasture about six months before, so she knew the territory. I had thought Rose’s vigorous trot toward the barn when I had seen her after searching was odd. Now I knew she actually couldn’t come when I called but she did come as soon as she was back in the right pasture and was able. I will of course go investigate if the elk did indeed take out fence. Each time I have checked the herd morning and night since then, Rose has been with them. Clearly something unusual happened that morning. With Bruce’s chastisement in mind, now I will also be sure to check with him before I commence any search for a missing pony!

© 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.

I Don’t Think it’s Coincidence

Red arrow points to the notifier, the sole visible pony, in this case Matty.

It has happened often enough now that I don’t think it’s a coincidence.  I go out just before dark to see my Fell Pony mare herd.  The mares run on a very large pasture, and I usually don’t know where they are on it when I begin my walk.  Often, though, one pony will make themselves visible, alerting me to where the rest of the herd likely is.  Then, just as often, that pony disappears, and it’s up to me to remember the location and navigate to it.

Not all members of the mare herd play the role of notifier.  Usually it is the lowest pony in the herd, Calista; sometimes it is the lead mare Matty.  Tonight it was Honey, briefly, before she disappeared.  I assume they hear my voice, or they hear the stallion Asi’s call and his gate open when I feed him first.  They know I am out and about.  It is up to me to scan the hill and the lowlands, or as tonight, to note the behavior of the calves in their feed pasture since they find the ponies a curiosity when they are near the fence.  Then the notifier makes themselves briefly visible, and I begin my walk in their direction.

While I don’t think it’s coincidence that there is a notifier pony, I also don’t want to believe it’s coincidence.  That the notifier makes themselves visible briefly is heart-warming.  To think they want me to know where they are and to come visit is a thrill.  I find observing these ponies in as close to as natural a setting as I can provide them to be fascinating.  Once again I realize one lifetime with them will not be enough.

© 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.

A Dominance Move?

Bowthorne Matty’s tail head is just showing at the bottom of this picture that I took mounted of the herd following us.

I had prepared all the feed buckets and was beginning to halter and tie my Fell Pony mares prior to feeding them.  As always, I haltered and tied the lead mare first, intending to work my way down/through the herd.  As I walked to the next pony, I heard a scuffle behind me and thought I saw a lower ranking mare threaten the tied mare.  It’s of course my job to protect any pony that is tied because they can’t protect themselves, so even though I wasn’t certain that I’d seen the lower ranking mare make a dominance move, I haltered and tied her next just in case.

The next morning it was gloriously beautiful.  The mares hadn’t come in on their own, so I went out in search of them.  I knew the day was going to be good when I found a piece of petrified wood near the herd, my first such find since moving to the Black Hills of South Dakota the year before.  The day then continued in that uplifting vein when I rode the lead mare into the barn with the rest of the herd following.  I get such a thrill out of riding with the herd like that!

Not long after the ride commenced, when we entered an open area, I noticed the same lower ranking mare pick up speed and head straight toward us in a somewhat threatening way.  Before I could decide on a plan to protect my mount and me, one of the other mares ran between us, pushing the threatening mare away.  My savior stayed between us and the threatening mare the rest of the way into the barn. 

The next day, the farrier was here to trim hooves, and he was working on the lower ranking mare.  That mare’s foal was separated from her while the farrier was working.  The foal had decided she’d been separated from her mother long enough and approached the fence dividing her from her mother.  She apparently got too close to another mare because that mare pinned her ears, snaked her neck out, and chased the filly a short distance off.  Immediately the lead mare used the same behavior to chase off the filly’s pursuer.  I was fascinated by this seeming disciplinary behavior by the lead mare of the pursuing mare.

I always find how my ponies interact to be fascinating.  Mostly the herd is peaceful, so I don’t very often get to see the sorts of behavior I did on these days.  The display by the lead mare doesn’t require anything on my part.  But now that I have two observations that a change in leadership in the herd may be underway, I will be more observant of herd interactions.  I need to protect not only myself but also any tied pony until the ramifications of the dominance moves by the lower ranking mare work themselves out.

© 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.

Where the Rising Sun Hits First

Living in a steep-sided valley, I am very conscious of how the sun rises differently with the seasons.  In the summer, my house gets very early morning light because the sun rises in line with the valley.  In the winter, the opposite is true.  The lower sun must make its way over a high southern ridge, slowing the arrival of first light.  My neighbor gets winter sun nearly a half hour before I do because his house sits higher and where the valley is broader. 

Several people have shared with me that their ponies come when they’re called.  These comments have been made to me in response to seeing photos of me with my ponies high on the hill of the pasture and hearing stories about bringing them down to the barn.  There have been suggestions that I need to train my ponies to come when they’re called so I don’t need to walk and climb after them.  These suggestions have caused me to think about why I don’t do that.

One reason is that I don’t need to train my ponies to come when they’re called; they already do that (usually!)  I just don’t call them in very often, so I had to ask myself why that is.  The answer is that I like to see what they choose to do without direction.  To some extent it is feedback on my leadership and the patterns I’ve established for what I expect of them.  And to some extent it is information about how they live the many hours of the day when I’m not with them.  I then use that information to enrich the time we do spend together.

One of the things I notice this time of year is that they are usually at the barn when I get there in the morning.  Then there are the occasional times when they are not.  What I have noticed is that they are at the barn of their own volition when the night has been cold and the sun has risen and warmed the barnyard before anywhere else.  And they are not at the barn when the sun isn’t out and the weather is inclement or if the night was warm and they don’t need a morning sunbath.  They have shown me that the rising sun hits the barn first this time of year.

I have used this information when working with my young filly.  I’ve been continuing to build her foot handling skills and doing preliminary farrier work.  We are working at liberty (she stands untied,) and some mornings she is more cooperative than others.  What I have learned is that those mornings when the herd has come to the barn on their own are when she is most compliant.  If I introduce a new variant of our foot handling routine, then, I do it on those sorts of mornings.  I wouldn’t have necessarily known to do that if I had made a habit of calling the herd in rather than let them show me what they prefer about sunbathing on cold mornings.

So while it is very possible that I could save myself some walking by calling my Fell Ponies in each morning, I choose not to call them because there is so much I can learn about them if I let them naturally join me or not.  At this point in my stewardship of my ponies, I prefer that sort of dialogue about behavior.  I like that they get to teach me, not just the other way around.  I like that they showed me where the rising sun hits first.  When I learn something like that, it enriches my life and, I hope, theirs. 

© 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.

Maybe It Was Aimee?!

When my Fell Ponies first started climbing high on the hill here, I asked, “I wonder who’s leading that adventure?”  (Click here to read the story.)  I figured that that leading pony would be a great trail pony.  I had several possibilities in mind.  There was Matty, the herd leader, of course.  And there was Rose, my trail and heart pony, and there was Calista, my young mare born on the fells of Cumbria.  None of them, though, had seemed particularly interested in exploring the hill.  A few days later I got a possible answer about who that adventurous lead pony might be. 

After the ponies’ initial adventure, when I got to the barn one morning to start chores, five of the seven members of the mare herd greeted me.  Madie and her five-month-old daughter Aimee were the missing ponies, and I figured they were out on the low elevation portion of the pasture somewhere as they often were that time of morning.  I expected they would appear before long as they normally did.

I prepared all the vitamin buckets, a sound that usually brings in any stragglers, but there was still no sign of Madie and Aimee.  I called to them several times, since Aimee often comes running when she sees or hears me.  They still didn’t appear, so I set Madie’s and Aimee’s buckets aside and fed the ponies that had come in, doing my normal inspection of their physical and mental wellbeing.  I then turned them all loose and pondered what to do about Madie’s and Aimee’s unclaimed buckets.  I walked out on the low portion of the hill to the west and didn’t see them, which seemed odd, so I carried the buckets to my house to check around the hill to the east, one of their favorite hangouts.  When they weren’t there either, I became a little concerned.

As I walked back to my house, I pondered what my next move should be.  Should I just assume they were all right and would reunite with the herd during the day?  Should I double check the lowlands to the west to be sure I hadn’t missed them somewhere?  I was tired and didn’t relish the idea of another mile or two of walking.  I stopped to take a deep breath then looked up on the hill.  I was astonished to see two black specs halfway up the hill.  Madie and Aimee!  They were in behind some trees so not visible from the barn.  I saw Aimee raise her head and look toward me when I called to her, but she made no move in my direction.  Okay, I told them, have a good day!  I returned their buckets to the barn to be fed another day.

A friend who met Aimee during the summer suggested that perhaps it was Aimee who had led the herd up on high that first time.  I could see the logic; Aimee certainly has the makings of a lead mare, but at such a young age I wondered if the herd would follow her.  But then I had seen Aimee lead her mother up in elevation a month before.  I will never really know, of course, which pony led the herd on that first adventure on the hill that day, but I’ve now added Aimee to the list of possibilities!

© 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.

Binoculars are My New Friend!

It was just before sunset as I walked to the stallion pen to feed my Fell Pony Asi.  As I walked, I scanned the hill south then east then west looking for the mare herd.  I saw a bunch of dark-colored animals, so I noted the location so I could look from a better vantage point.  When I got to that point, though, there were two bunches of dark-colored animals.  Too many!  I was confused!  It was then that I realized that I would have to get friendly with binoculars.

While one of those bunches of dark colored animals was indeed the mares, the other was four pair of cows and calves who had wandered over the hill from the neighboring pasture.  In the failing light of the day, glassing them allowed me to be sure that the ponies were all grazing or would look up when I called goodnight.

The next morning when I fed Asi, I again scanned the hill and spotted a bunch of dark colored animals to the west.  Of course I didn’t have the binoculars with me, so I wasn’t sure if it was the mares or not.  I debated whether to walk east to the house for the binoculars or west to see if I could get a more accurate look.  I chose west, which ended up being the wise choice because the cattle came into view low on the hill, so it was indeed the mares up higher.

The next day, just after sunset, I saw dark objects moving across the hill midway up.  This time I went back to the house for the binoculars because it was late and I didn’t have time to waste any footsteps.  Those dark objects ended up not being the ponies.  There were four elk grazing where the ponies had been a few days before.  A pony then came into view farther down the hill where it was clear that it was indeed a pony, so I glassed that area and ascertained that all were well.

One night I found the ponies just before dark without need of visual assistance.  And with them was a herd of deer, seen to the left of the ponies in the picture here.  The hill is alive with creatures, and I can now see more of them with my new friend:  binoculars!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Even at Thirteen Degrees!

They were in high spirits as they came running down the draw to greet me, kicking their heels in the air, rearing with necks arched, running circles around each other, manes and tails flying about with their breath making small clouds in the cold air.  My Fell Ponies had every right to be edgy since the temperature was just thirteen degrees Fahrenheit, there were snow flakes in the air, and a breeze made it feel all the more frigid.

After I bid each pony a greeting, I attempted to depart before the cold seeped into my clothing any more.  One pony then another asked for a second greeting by blocking my way.  I headed toward a narrow trail that climbed up out of the draw, thinking that route would discourage followers, and it did, except for one.  My heart pony Willowtrail Wild Rose followed me nimbly on the rocky, snow-covered path while the rest of the herd ran down and around and out of sight.  I thought for certain that Rose would want to go to her friends when we climbed high enough that they came into view again.  But no, she chose to stay with me.  I was flattered by her choice.

Nonetheless I was anxious to go home where it was warm, but Rose was making it clear she wanted my attention.  She gladly accepted serious rubbing of her chest but then she clearly wanted more, even at thirteen degrees.  Okay then, I told her, let’s do a little game.  We were amongst a few pine trees, so I asked her to go around one.  She went up, around, down, and back up the slope to me, clearly proud of herself, so then I asked her to walk between two closely spaced trees.  I congratulated her on her accomplishment again.  Rose seemed satisfied and headed down the hill at a fast trot to regain her friends who were once again displaying their high-energy antics.  Meanwhile Drybarrows Calista was watching what we were doing and was coming to investigate, joining me shortly after Rose departed.

These ponies are so fascinating.  They have dozens and dozens of acres to explore and they have each other to interact with, yet Rose still chose my company and then demanded some sort of engagement as if I could provide her with something she wanted that her fellow ponies could not give her.  It was a high compliment indeed.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

“Quit Coaching the Ponies!”

Arrow pointing to location of ponies on the hill, taken from the stallion pen with Asi’s butt for context!

Shortly after the ponies and I moved to Scotty Springs Ranch last year, ranch co-owner Bruce Murdock starting telling me he couldn’t wait to see the ponies high on the hill.  It was in part because he hoped to see them perched regally on high and see them running with manes and tails flowing.  But it was also in part because he knew I brought them in each morning for vitamin buckets and inspection and training.  He hoped they would be as far away as possible to make me hike!  Well, it took a year but he got his wish!

The first hike way up the hill was an adventure.  As I started the second one the next day, though, I texted him saying “quit coaching the ponies!”  His accurate but annoying retort was, “the Fell Ponies of Cumbria.”  I responded with, “the fell of Scotty Springs!”

My young dog Ace looking at Calista emreging from under the pine tree.

We had three inches of snow overnight, and when I emerged from my house that morning, I looked up the hill and saw four black specs two-thirds of the way up.  I called out to them, saying they ought to come down and meet me at the barn.  I could tell they heard me because they had their heads up and faced in my direction, but I didn’t see any of them moving.  After I fed my stallion, I looked up the hill, and they were still on their same perch, looking in my direction.  One then moved slightly off and down, so I was hopeful they were headed in my direction, so I headed to the barn to prepare buckets.

Arrow points to where ponies were waiting for me above the barn as I came off the hill.

After the buckets were ready, I saw the other three ponies close to the barn, so I brought them in.  Then I looked up the hill again and realized that bringing the ponies in off the hill had just gotten more complicated.  Fog had covered the upper reaches of the hill, and I could no longer see the four ponies up there.  And because I could no longer see them, I also didn’t know exactly what route to take to get to them because making that journey was so new to me.  I wasn’t looking forward to the trek this time either because I was in winter-mud boots that were not my first choice for hiking on a rocky snow-covered hillside.  But I set off with my dogs for another climb of the mountain.

When we got up into the fog, stories told by people like Tom Lloyd in Cumbria of treks on the fells through fog easily came to mind.  When I got to where I thought the ponies were, there were no tracks at all in the snow, so I knew I was in the wrong place.  I decided I needed to go higher, so I began climbing again veering west.  Thank goodness something made me turn around because I saw a pony come into view through the fog across the hill to the east of me.  It was Drybarrows Calista who so often is the one that notifies me of the herd’s location.  I thanked her loudly and saw Willowtrail Mountain Honey descending farther away.  I turned around and started following them down.

The barn emerges from the fog and Calista comes to greet me. Her head is turned in order to discourage Ace the dog from trying to herd her.

As I got almost all the way down, the barn emerged from the fog and I could see my four hill climbers between me and there.  Calista, in her generous way, came to me to say hello as I got closer (her head is turned oddly in the picture; she was discouraging my young dog Ace from trying to herd her).  I haltered the lead mare and the others followed us to the barn in high spirits.  I was happy to have made it down in one piece and thankful I hadn’t needed to lead a pony down while picking my way down the slope.  I trust in time I’ll come to know the hill better so I’ll be better able to climb to the ponies wherever they are and do so more efficiently.  This time I will admit that the adventure into the fog was a fun way to start the day.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

Champion Horse Judge and Champion Friend

Linda Murdock with her beloved granddaughter Jackson and Willowtrail Mountain Honey

You can bet that as soon as I learned that my friend Linda Murdock had been a champion horse judge in her younger years, I began quizzing her every chance I got.  I would have her judge selected line-ups of my Fell Ponies or have her explain a particular aspect of conformation.  She helped me take pictures and make measurements for saddle fit.  She helped me deliver Willowtrail Henry to his owner in Ohio and then visit three Fell Pony owners on the way home.  When I moved to Scotty Springs Ranch, she took her horses out of the horse pasture so that my ponies would have it all to themselves.

I met Linda and Bruce when I bought an Australian Shepherd puppy from them.  Before long we were talking on the phone about breeding dogs and then cattle, which they had been doing for decades, and eventually about Fell Ponies.  When my husband died, they immediately offered a place for me to land with my ponies and all the logistics to get us from there to here.  For the past eighteen months they have been my closest friends and companions.

Tragedy struck a week ago.  Linda was taken from us in an accident here on the ranch.  There is a huge gaping hole where she once was the answerer of questions, the giver of advice, the solver of problems, the volunteer for errand runs or road trips, the shoulder on which to share bad news or happy circumstances.  There are dogs and cats and horses and cattle that miss her attention and try to coach those of us who remain to do better. 

I gave her granddaughter Jackson a ride on a pony for the first time without Linda.  Jackson was thrilled, and the rest of us remembered how much joy Linda showed when her pink princess became a cowboy.  Linda, all of us were made better by your presence in our lives.  You are greatly missed.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

The family encourages remembrances to your favorite animal rescue.

I’d Like to Know Who Led that Adventure!

My house, which is at the same elevation as the barn and foaling shed, is just below the top of the tallest tree left of center.. The ponies are below that stand of trees (the dark spots).

Late in the afternoon I watched the ponies heading up the hill.  The day before was the first time I had found them more than fifty feet above the barn, and then it was only three of them.  The hill has about 400 feet of elevation change, with the lower reaches gradually rising, and the upper reaches being quite steep.  For their first year here, which they’ve just completed, the ponies have stayed in the lower reaches.  Now though, they are running out of forage and it is cool enough that they can venture farther from water for longer periods, which I expect are what inspired the climb. 

Right before starting late afternoon chores, I saw a line of dark spots about two-thirds of the way up the hill moving left to right across the steepest part of the hillside (I wish I’d taken a picture!).  On closer look I saw that it was definitely six of the ponies.  I tried to get a bearing on where they were since when I began my climb to visit them, I would be under them and unable to see their location.

As it turned out, I missed them and hiked all the way to the top then northeast along the ridge until I could see them below me.  Two of the ponies were bedded down resting, a choice I definitely understood after making a similar climb!  What I really wanted to know, though, is who had led them on their adventure.  That pony would make a great trail pony!  The first pony to greet me when I descended to the herd was Drybarrows Calista, my fell-born girl, and she seemed bright-eyed compared to the rest of the herd.  She’s low down in the herd hierarchy, so it’s hard for me to imagine she was the leader.  Maybe in time I’ll be shown the answer!

Between the top and the ponies, I was rewarded for my efforts with discovering a very large elk antler (often called a ‘shed’).  When I got to the ponies, I was also rewarded when the sun burst through the clouds on the western horizon and cast pink light on the hill tops.  The camera I had with me doesn’t like low light, hence the fuzzy image of Calista and the shed and the pink light.  What a fun outing!

© 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.

The Pink Princess Cowboy and the Pony

When I told my friend Bruce that I’d had a dream about his granddaughter riding my Fell Pony mare Rose, he said he’d had the same dream. So when I found out Jackson was due to visit soon, I made sure Rose was ready for her precious cargo. Jackson is just two and a half years old, so riding means sitting on a pony that I lead with Grandma Linda spotting her (or sometimes Mom or Dad).

When Linda and Jackson showed up the first day, I realized I hadn’t prepared Rose for the tutu. The pink poofy skirt is apparently a favorite of Jackson’s. Fortunately, Linda was able to convince Jackson to take it off before riding, and while Rose would likely have been fine with it, I was glad we didn’t have to find out. The pink theme remained, though, with Jackson sporting pink bib overalls, pink boots, and a pink tinged helmet. (Please note that we know the helmet isn’t perfectly fit; we will get it right eventually.) Smiles on Jackson’s and Linda’s faces made my day!

The next day Linda and Jackson arrived with a pink-trimmed saddle and saddle blanket that Linda had bought. We put it on Rose and found out it fit her, and I was surprised how good pink and black go together! Jackson was stylish with her dark glasses, and I soon learned that when I asked her to smile for the camera, she stuck out her tongue, so my pictures of her smiling are more impromptu. Jackson had apparently been saying over and over again after her ride the day before, “I’m riding a horse!” and she treated me to that refrain several times on our next ride. By day four, I got her to say, to my delight, “I’m riding a pony!”

So far, Rose has been a champ, as I expected her to be. Even after having her hooves trimmed and then on our windiest ride she has been perfectly behaved. Jackson’s dad warned me that I had started something, and I replied that it was a thrill for me to share my ponies. And I told Linda these rides are a little thing I can do to help Jackson be bonded to this ranch and ensure its future.

After I realized the pink theme was a fixture and I knew I didn’t have a pink halter or lead rope, I at least made sure I chose colors that wouldn’t clash. I fully expect that someday, if Jackson’s interest continues, that my black ponies will sport pink more completely than Rose has so far!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

Fell Ponies and Hot Weather

I appreciated my inquirer’s concern when they asked about how Fell Ponies do in hot climates.  Southern California was of particular interest to them.  I shared what I knew about Fell Ponies there and in other places with hot summers.  And then our first summer began here in South Dakota.  I now have more first-hand experience than I did when my inquirer asked their questions.

I have never seen my ponies sweat like they have during this summer that has been five to fifteen degrees warmer than our warmest days in Colorado.  Nonetheless, the ponies seemed to get by just fine.  I did what I could to keep them comfortable. 

• I made sure they had access to drinking water, which here is in automatic waterers so it’s reasonably fresh and clean so they are inclined to drink it.  And we cleaned the waterers just to make sure.

• I made sure they had access to loose trace mineral salt.  I learned a long time ago that salt blocks aren’t necessarily ideal for equines because their tongues aren’t as rough as those of cattle so they may not be able to get what they need out of blocks. 

• I made sure they had places to stand where they could catch breezes.  I know some Fell Pony owners rely on fans to accomplish this when their landscape doesn’t allow for it.

• I made sure they had access to shade.  As one friend so aptly put it, “Our ponies are black!”  At least most Fell Ponies are black, and in hot summer sun, their coats get very, very warm.  This was an advantage during our long winters in Colorado, but it is a challenge during longer hot summers here.  Shade is in sheds, under trees, or behind hills at either end of the day.

It is this last one that I need to make improvements upon next summer.  My stallion Asi told me by his behavior that his shed isn’t to his liking in the heat.  He was rarely in it or around it to use its shade.  So I plan to build him a wall-less shelter next spring for shade and put it where he likes to stand, which likely has good breezes as well as good views of his mares.

I have been told that this summer has been 15% hotter and 30% drier than normal for here.  I am sure our second summer will teach me even more about keeping my ponies comfortable in hot weather, even if it’s closer to average.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

More stories about Fell Ponies and weather can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here.

High Heat to Snow Flakes

The ponies and I are experiencing a bit of physiological shock.  In 48 hours, we went from a high in the 90s (33 degrees Celsius) to a high in the mid-30s (3 degrees Celsius).  In addition to the change in temperature, clear skies turned to rain which turned to snow, and lots of wind blew.  Many of us were left shivering. 

When we lived in Colorado, it wasn’t uncommon to have these sorts of swift weather changes in the spring and fall.  A few things are different for us here in South Dakota, though.  For instance, in Colorado, at 9,000 feet in elevation in the Rocky Mountains, we rarely saw temperatures as high as we have had here.  Nor for as many days in a row; this summer we’ve seen more hot days than we were accustomed to, with one of the hottest at 100 degrees (38 degrees Celsius) just the day before. 

Another thing that I recognize that I took for granted in Colorado is how protected we were from wind.  Here we get hit by wind both from the west and the east, and while we’re protected compared to most places in South Dakota, we still experience more wind here than we did in Gould.  My late husband chose to build his home where he did because it was protected.  I heard today that the first pony shed he ever built that stood well for 17 years in Gould, and that I gave to a friend when I moved, was blown over onto its roof where it is now located about 20 miles north of where we lived.  In a testament to Don’s carpentry prowess, the shed was not damaged despite being rolled.  And his judgment about our home’s location and wind was confirmed.

As the weather dried out, the ponies quit shivering but stayed opinionated.  The ones that were confined got extra hay at extra feeding times.  The weather is supposed to warm up, with no more snow in the forecast at the moment.  I am grateful that the ponies are tough, and I appreciate that they require me to toughen up, too!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

A Pony Excellent Adventure

Nearing the end of the day, I was in the mood for an adventure.  I had scouted the location a few days before, and the stars all seemed correctly aligned for the adventure to turn out well.  I went to get my Fell Pony mare Madie and her daughter Aimee.  It was time for Aimee to cross water for the first time.

When we lived in Colorado, the ponies crossed water regularly because the Michigan River ran through their summer pasture.  Here, we have wonderful hills but no live water, so I had to create the opportunity to cross water, hence the adventure.  I couldn’t have been more thrilled with my two homebred girls.

The first step was to load the girls in the horse trailer.  Again, back in Colorado, taking rides in trailers was a regular part of life because summer pasture was four miles from home, so all my ponies get excited when I have the trailer hitched, thinking that there will be abundant green grass at the other end of the ride.  But here, there is no reason to trailer the ponies because the hill pasture is right outside our door.  Aimee and Madie, then, hadn’t been in a trailer in three months, and back then Aimee was just a month old, so it was still a novel experience for her.  Nonetheless, our adventure got off to a good start when Aimee followed her mom right into the trailer.

The trip to the river took 25 minutes, and was quite varied, from highway speed to corduroyed gravel to rough two-track. When we got to the river, I put on my rubber boots and unloaded the girls, neither of whom had ever been to the Cheyenne River before.  I opted to lead rather than ride Madie across the river to be as sure of success as I could be.  I hadn’t ever ridden Madie across a river before, though she’d crossed it on her own, and this one was new to me, too, so I felt leading her was the best strategy.  This lesson was for Aimee, after all, not Madie!

When I had scouted the river a few days before, I had decided on a particular crossing point that was wide and shallow (about seven inches at its deepest.)  Madie followed me through the coarse grass on the bank and down into the river and across without hesitating.  Aimee hesitated for a moment at the bank and then followed her mom.  Success!  I had a foal once who would not follow his mom across the river until several days of opportunities had passed, so I was ecstatic that Aimee was as confident with this adventure on the first try as she has been with everything else.

We went back and forth a few times before the failing light of the day dictated an end to our adventure.  The girls loaded up without hesitation, another success, and we returned home without incident.  I will repeat the water-crossing experience for Aimee when the stars align again.  The access road is not passable if it is wet, and the river is low right now because the region it drains hasn’t had much rain in the past month.  The river can easily become swollen and too high for safe crossing if a rainstorm hits northeastern Wyoming or southwestern South Dakota.  For now, though, I will savor the excellent adventure I shared with Madie and Aimee and my canine companions.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

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

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.