These Two!

It had been a long day. As I drove the lane on the way to check a newborn calf, I scanned the pony pasture looking for Calista and Mayflower. I was preparing for bringing them in for the night when I got back. When I spied them, they were about a half mile from my house, so I knew a walk was in front of me as light was quickly fading from the day. Imagine my elation, then, when I returned to my house and found that they had run to the waterer at the barn during my absence. This was the fourth evening in a row that these two had made my life so much easier.

The previous night, I had misjudged the weather forecast. Thunder and lightning had begun earlier than I expected, and when I went out to do my last pony chores of the day, occasional rain drops began to fall. The sky was an amazing red color, and with the flashes of lightning, it almost looked like it was on fire. Unfortunately the lightning drew nearer as my chores drug on, so when it was time to fetch Calista and Mayflower, I took a route that avoided ridgetops, hoping I wouldn’t have to walk into the open pasture in search of my girls. What a relief it was, then, when I saw them approaching the barn with their own bodies, like mine, bent against the rain that was beginning to fall in earnest. By the time I got them tucked into the foaling shed for the night, we were all soaked, but we were safe and able to appreciate the brilliant, if electric, show in the sky. The next morning the water in my rain gauge had a reddish tinge to it. I later learned we had had smoke in the atmosphere from a distant wildfire.

The night before that, I had gone out just before dark and didn’t see the girls anywhere. I began calling their names as I walked. After several minutes, I heard thundering hooves and here they came from the far end of the pasture at full speed. As they got closer, I saw that it was Mayflower, the foal, that was in the lead by forty yards. She almost came all the way to me but then veered to follow her mother to the barn. I had been wondering who was responsible for coming when I called, and I think I got my answer that night! Warmed my heart!

The first night in this helpful series, it had been another long, tiring day and I was late getting out to do chores. It was nearly dark when it was time to go find Calista and Mayflower. Imagine my appreciation then when, after fetching a halter, I looked up to see Calista and Mayflower not fifty feet from me heading my way. These two made my day again!

None of the four nights when Calista and Mayflower were so helpful were conducive to picture-taking. I was just intent on getting the girls where they were supposed to be before dark. So the photo here was taken one morning during the string of days when I was feeling so appreciative of these two.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

Calling to Each Other

Drybarrows Calista and Willowtrail Mayflower keeping me company in the pasture

My bedroom is about 100 feet from the foaling shed. I sleep with my window cracked open for fresh air, but of course it also allows for easier entry of sound. At four o’clock in the morning, my Fell Pony mare Calista called to me, which woke me from a sound sleep. It’s very unusual for her to call, so I of course wondered why. A few minutes later I found out why when a coyote howled, and it was closer to my house than Calista is.

I immediately got up and put the dogs out, and they immediately went nuts running about barking and then eventually adding their harmonies to the distant ones of coyotes. The close-by song never returned. After a few more minutes, it was all quiet, so the dogs and I returned to the house.

Later that morning I had put Calista and her foal Mayflower out to pasture. But I realized I needed to check them more closely than I had, so I went looking for them. I knew which direction they had gone, but they weren’t visible anywhere. So I started softly calling. My calling was soft because I wanted Calista to know my intentions were different than my evening calls which communicate ‘Time to come in!’ Having just put her out, I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of coming in so soon, so I also starting softly saying I just wanted to check on her.

After less than a minute of walking and softly calling, I was astounded by what happened. She called to me to let me know where she was. She had been hidden from view, and she and Mayflower ran to where I could see them. And it wasn’t just Calista that surprised me. Mayflower actually came running to me, down into a ravine and back up the other side where I was, with her mother in hot pursuit. I checked them both over and told them to have a good day.

I had walked a few dozen yards when I realized I again had company. They had trotted up to me again. I am quite humbled right now by these two. I had no idea that Calista would ever offer me the sort of relationship she has offered since Mayflower was born. It’s not that Calista was ever unfriendly; quite the opposite. Her breeder was right when he said she’d be hard to get rid of, so interested in attention was she as a youngster. What she is offering is something deeper, something that allows us to call to each other, with the high likelihood that the other will respond.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

One of Those Moments

It was one of those moments that confirmed that the effort I put into my ponies has rewards. Day after day I do little things, as anyone does in a relationship, to let them know they are heard, their needs are met, and they are cared about. Then they do something to let me know the same.

Just after sundown, I had walked a hundred yards towards where I could see Drybarrows Calista and her foal Willowtrail Mayflower grazing. I was still about one hundred feet from them when I saw my neighbor pull into my driveway. I made a quick calculation as to which of the two parties were most likely to stay put until I reached them, and I turned around and headed towards my house. Not a minute later, as I was looking toward where Bruce was parked, willing him to not drive off before I got to him, I felt and then saw beside me Calista and Mayflower.

I was so incredibly touched that they knew our routine so well. They helped me out by coming to me rather than either staying where they had been or moving off farther away. I continued towards their paddock, which was on the way to my house, with a huge grin on my face. I did eventually put a halter on Calista, so that I could more effectively lead them into their pen.

I have a new appreciation for the depth of our relationship. I feel blessed now each time I am with them. And I look forward to the next of those moments.

© 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.

An Admirable Herd Dynamic?

The first two ponies come into view

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

Aimee Wows Me!

It was the day after a heavy spring snowstorm.  The sun was shining brightly, and the thirteen inches of snow we’d received was starting to slide off of the roofs of buildings, as you can see in the photo here.  After I finished preparing the ponies’ feed buckets, I realized that I was going to have to tie the ponies to fences differently than usual because one fence was under overhanging snow, which I didn’t want to calve and hit the pony tied underneath.

I carefully tied and moved the mares, always mindful that the snow could calve off the roof at any minute, causing them to react.  I distributed feed buckets, though, and the snow that looked ready to calve didn’t.  I untied all the mares, still mindful of where I was relative to the imminently calving snow, and still it stayed up high.

The largest ready-to-calve chunk of snow was right over where I slide hay under a fence before spreading it out.  Eleven-month-old Fell Pony Willowtrail Aimee was standing there when the snow finally came down.  She wowed me with her reaction.  The water-laden snow clunked to the ground not twelve inches from where she was standing, and all she did was hop sideways a foot, then put her head down again to see if she could find any leftover bits of hay.  Talk about unflappable!  She’s going to be one fun pony to explore unknown territory with!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Still Too Hot

It was twenty-five years ago when I first learned of the effect of a particular vitamin supplement pellet. I was raising my first flock of ducklings, and I top-dressed vitamin pellets on their feed. The ducklings soon became hyper active, which is saying something because ducklings are such busy little things normally. I quickly changed to a different vitamin supplement for them and watched them return to their normal level of busyness.

Occasionally I would try the same vitamin pellets on my ponies. The pellets seemed to change their temperaments, too, so I settled on a different product. I recently conducted an experiment with my ponies, returning to the vitamin pellets I had set aside, and I found that despite many changes in the intervening years, they still are too hot for my animals.

The move that my ponies and I made from the high country of Colorado to the Black Hills of South Dakota has been humbling. Generally, we have been exceedingly fortunate to have landed in a wonderful place for all of us. Nonetheless, there have been changes, and since this is the first time that I have moved my pones between quite different locations, I didn’t anticipate them. We have been in our new location for seventeen months, and I wonder how long it will take before I feel like I have their management here as well in hand as I did in Colorado. I am humbled by my frequent discoveries about what I took for granted.

During our first summer here, I was surprised to see my black ponies turning brown. When we were in Colorado, I had learned to supplement them with copper to keep black coats from fading. There, fading coats was a winter phenomenon. In summer, the pasture grasses the ponies consumed seemed to keep their coats shiny and black (on the black ones) without anything special. In the winter, I learned to supplement copper. After a few trials, I found a product that worked ideally for our situation. I was always happy with the shine and color of my ponies’ coats, any month of the year.

We moved to South Dakota in the fall, so the ponies left mature grazing in Colorado and came to mature grazing in South Dakota. Here, we have been fortunate that I can have my mares on pasture most of the year, compared to just a few months when we were in Colorado. All that first winter here, then, they grazed extensively in a large pasture. When summer arrived, it never occurred to me that I would need to change my supplement regime relative to black coats. Summer had always been a time for the ponies to get the nutrients they needed for healthy coats from the pasture grasses. But then my ponies’ black coats started turning brown. I was humbled when someone needed to remind me that I needed to supplement copper. Of course I did! Despite the evidence before my eyes, it hadn’t occurred to me that our minerals here, in the pasture soils and hence the grasses and in the well water the ponies were drinking, were different than in Colorado and could leave my ponies lacking in the copper department. (I had done the research on selenium and didn’t need to make any changes there.)

As I pondered how to get the ponies the copper they so obviously needed, I was told that the vitamin supplement I had set aside so many years before was great at keeping black coats black. Desperate for a solution that made sense in our new place, I decided to give it a try again. Now that I realized the magnitude of the changes the ponies were experiencing nutritionally, I was willing to give the supplement that had been too hot previously another chance. Perhaps it would have a different effect here than where we were before.

Within a few weeks, the ponies’ coats began darkening, and I was elated. Copper is necessary not only for keeping coats black but for the strength of the immune system. While I don’t like to see black coats that fade, my primary concern is overall health, not just color. Seeing the coats blacken, then, meant that my ponies’ immune systems were being better supported, too.

Several weeks passed, and the faded coats of my ponies were a distant and almost forgotten memory. What a relief it was to have my ponies on a good plain of nutrition in our new place. Or so I thought. Several months in, over a week to ten-day period of careful observation, where I ruled out weather and other possible causes, I finally concluded that I was seeing new behavior in my ponies. A few had become mouthier, one had become more aggressive towards other ponies, and another never seemed to be calm like I’ve come to expect Fell Ponies to be when they don’t have reason to be otherwise. Slowly it dawned on me that perhaps the supplement that had once before been too hot might still be. When I replaced it with the vitamin pellet I had used in Colorado, indeed the unwelcome behavior changes began to recede. I was humbled again.

When I mentioned to a Fell Pony colleague recently that I was making changes to my ponies’ vitamins because of behavior changes, they told me they had read that soy can lead to behavior changes. They knew I fed a soy-based energy feed and so wondered if that might be the cause of the behavior changes I was seeing. I don’t think so. I have used that soy-based energy feed for years, including with ducklings, and I didn’t see the hyper-activity that I have now seen so many times with the particular vitamin supplement.

For now, I have reverted to the vitamin and copper supplementation I was using in Colorado to see if it will show me via the ponies’ coats that they are getting the copper they need in our new environment. And I will go forward with the knowledge that we have all made a much bigger change in our lives than I previously realized. Stewarding my ponies is a blessed and humbling experience.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Found Them!

Late in the afternoon one day, I ran an errand. While on the ranch lane, I looked out at the pony pasture. My Fell Pony mares were at the base of the hill and starting to ascend, so I noted their location. Then an hour or so later, I went out just before sunset to wish them good night like I usually do.

I walked to where I had seen them, but they weren’t visible. The weather had begun to change, so I figured they had climbed the hill to get in the trees and out of the wind. I did the same, eventually gaining a flat spot about two thirds of the way up where they sometimes hang out but aren’t visible from below. But they weren’t there, and I couldn’t tell if they had been; there wasn’t enough snow to capture their tracks.

I walked to the western edge of the flat spot, and the little snow that I found was undisturbed. Since the ponies didn’t usually go that way and the light was starting to fail, I decided to take my chances heading east which was toward home anyway. After walking for five minutes and not seeing them or any sign of them, I decided to start descending toward home, concluding that greeting my friends wasn’t meant to be that evening.

Part way down the hill, though, my luck changed. I came upon fresh tracks in snow crossing the hill to the east. I followed the trail, and after a few minutes I emerged around a bulge in the hill and saw them back in a protected nook. Apparently when the weather had begun to change, they had moved to this sheltered place. I felt triumphant having found them using my tracking skills, and I admired their choice of location. Such smart ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

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.