The Wisdom of Homesteaders and Ponies

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

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

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

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

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The Wayward Band

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

The wayward band on high

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

The wayward band on the wrong side of the fence.

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

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

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

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

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

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

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

Using a Scrub Route

It is incredibly flattering when my mare Madie wishes to engage with me during evening checks. It is especially flattering when she does this after I have skipped our training session earlier in the day because it feels like she missed our time together. One night on such an occasion I told her she should walk to the barn with me, and she did, traversing a quarter of a mile and interacting with me along the way, including helping me up a steep hill. Her foal wasn’t too pleased about being second priority!

But at temperatures close to zero (-17 Celsius) one evening, I just wasn’t interested in doing anything but getting done with my checks and back inside. Madie can be very persistent, following me for great distances to convince me to interact, so I needed a strategy to discourage her interest. I laughed at the idea that came to mind.

When I need to distract my mind from my to-do list, I like to listen to sports. This time of year, I enjoy college American football (I don’t enjoy watching as much because violent hits really bother me.) There is a strategy in the game called a scrub route where a player runs downfield with a defender in pursuit, and the offensive player runs close to a fellow player to ‘scrub’ the defender off the pursuit.

In the picture here, you see Madie’s ears; she is requesting interaction. You can also see a trail up the hill to the right. Just after I took this picture, another pony, Honey, appeared at the top of the trail and descended a few strides. Madie is subordinate to Honey. I instantly realized I could scrub Madie off my trail by walking up past Honey and then continuing out of sight because Madie was unlikely to attempt to pass Honey on the hill.

It worked. I was able to walk up and away from the herd with a focus on getting to someplace warm. Sitting in the warmth of my house telling this story, it feels a little unfair to Madie that I scrubbed her, but in the end I know it was not only best for me but it was best for her, too. In the cold I was far from being in an playful state of mind. I look forward to warmer weather next time!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

With a Little Help from Madie

I was laying in bed thinking about my to-do list for the day, and I realized that a pony could help me with one of the items on that list. It had been a long time since I’d asked a pony to help me with ‘work,’ so I quickly got out of bed to put the plan into action.

It all started with a Facebook post a few weeks before by a very accomplished florist/wreath maker in the UK. Each year she advertises beautiful horsehead wreaths for sale. The first time I saw one, I was smitten. This year, when I saw her post, I decided I would buy one as a holiday gift for my pink pony princess friend Jackson. I quickly learned, though, that the florist is so popular that she sells out well in advance. Chagrined, I had to put my thinking cap back on to figure out a holiday gift for Jackson.

I just couldn’t get the idea of a horsehead wreath out of my mind, though. I used to have a wreath-making business back in Colorado; I regularly used ponies to bring supplies in from the woods. So I began wondering if I could make a horsehead wreath for Jackson myself. After I was able to find a frame, I got permission to harvest greens here on the ranch, so it was beginning to seem possible. I found suitable greens not far away, so I was even more encouraged, though the ones here are cedar so are different from the subalpine fir greens I used in Colorado.

Next was to put together the pony portion of the chore. I pulled out two plasticized nylon bags that I had purchased several years ago for a different pony packing job. They are connected together at one point at the top and are intended to be used for light but bulky loads. Because of the nature of the jobs I wanted to do with them, I didn’t need pack saddles; I could just lay them across my pony’s back and keep them in place by their shape and weight.

My decision about which pony to use was an easy one. Willowtrail Spring Maiden, called Madie, has daily been asking to engage with me, and usually I just mount her, thank her, and dismount. This time, though, I would be asking her to pack in the greens. About five years ago, I had worked with her for a couple of weeks in preparation for a packing job, so I was confident that she would be okay with the idea. She just had never dealt with those particular bags. So the first thing I did was take the bags to her and see if she would quickly accept them slung over her back. She did, so next I harvested the quantity of greens I thought I would need, filling the bags as I harvested.

I had strategically chosen the harvesting location to be close to the pony pasture, so that Madie would be familiar with the terrain, if not the particular work. Madie was at the barn with the rest of the herd when it was time to go get the greens. I haltered Madie, and with her son King following, I led her on a half mile walk to where I had left the bags of greens. One of the many unknowns of this outing was how well four-month-old King would follow his mother and how he would react to his mother carrying the bags. I quickly found out that he was more of a challenge that I had anticipated, but in a good way! He not only willingly followed us but was very curious and constantly trying to pull on the bags. It was mostly a challenge when I was trying to make sure Madie was comfortable with how the loaded bags felt on her body while King was tugging on them. We took it slow at the start and then were able to walk at a good Fell Pony speed to where we left the bags. I was thrilled with both of them!

Making a ‘wreath’ in the shape of a horsehead instead of a circle or garland was a new experience. It was also a creative challenge to figure out what native materials to use for mane and forelock. Small Ponderosa Pine cones were the obvious choice for eyes, though! Because Jackson is a fan of the movie Frozen, blue and pink ribbons were important adornments for her wreath. The one that hangs outside my door, though, is au naturel. Thank you, Madie, for making these holiday decorations possible!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Thankful 2021

There is nothing like a little snow
Falling from the sky,
And then a flock more than seventy strong
Of wild turkeys walking by,

To put me in a festive mind
And focus me again on gratitude.
For me this November holiday
Is about so much more than party food.

In these past few years, no one has been spared
From turmoil or disruption.
We’ve all been faced with our unique type
Of a two-year life reproduction.

Hopefully some of life’s bigger truths
Have helped you endure the upsets.
For me learning that miracles can follow tragedy
Has helped me navigate my collection of resets.

For my ponies and me it’s hard to imagine
How we could have landed in a better place.
For them a fell-like hill for pasture.
For me a log cabin for home base.

Seeing my ponies on a hill
Similar to where their ancestors roamed
Is giving me new insights
And makes me incredulous how we’ve been re-homed.

It’s hard to believe another year has passed –
It’s been two since we arrived here.
We have all settled well into new routines
And love that to each other we are near.

That another year has passed by us
Is evidenced by new members of my herd,
They being the result of my match-making
Done so long ago that memory has blurred!

My heart pony has had a daughter
Who is vying for top spot in my heart.
Another new daughter and a year old
Have given a new generation a good start.

Meanwhile the older ponies are gifts
For their steadfast presence and rapport.
Their desires to connect each day with me
Fill me with appreciation to my core.

I am grateful for two local horsewomen,
Like-minded but in different ways,
That enrich my life with ponies
By delighting with a hug or turn of phrase.

I’m grateful for friends much further away
Who touch me with their pony-filled communications.
Usually they give inspiration to me
Through their well-thought recommendations.

I am grateful for the love of family.
My own visited this summer here.
On this place, the family I live amongst
Has welcomed me with incredible cheer.

I am grateful for a recent opportunity
To be a guest on the Fell Pony podcast.
Having my two decades of work asked about
Made the interview go by so fast!

I am grateful for how my other interests
So often circle back to the ponies I love.
It’s a sign I’ve landed where I need to be,
A life that fits me like a glove.

So this Thanksgiving I am grateful
For this amazing place that we are living.
Its abounding beauty and diversity
Are healing gifts that keep on giving.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Descending the Hill

Red arrow points to a pony descending the hill.  I first saw them on the flat just above there.

Red arrow points to a pony descending the hill. I first saw them on the flat just above there.

When I got to the barn, my Fell Pony mare herd, except for three, were already there. I could see the missing three high on the hill, watching me spread a little hay and begin to prepare vitamin buckets. I was hoping they would come in on their own because I had sprained an ankle a few days before so I wasn’t looking forward to climbing after them. Then they began descending.

These three ponies come naturally to living on the hill. Drybarrows Calista, the oldest at four years, was born on a fell in Cumbria. Our hill is similar in slope and roughness to a fell, but more treed than most fells. And our climate is considerably drier. Calista’s daughter Willowtrail Mayflower, at five months old, has obviously been following her mom up the hill ever since Calista decided to lead her there. Willowtrail Aimee was also born here and at a year old has been following the herd up the hill - if not leading them - for most of her life.

I took a few minutes to watch these ponies descend the hill and even thought to video it. You can watch the video by clicking here. Patience was required because they took their time, stopping occasionally, which I admit I too do to admire the view and look for the best route down. It was interesting to note that they walked most of it, trotted some, and didn’t break into a canter until they were on lower, less rough ground. It was also notable that Aimee made sure Mayflower wasn’t left too far behind.

After these three young ponies came in and I finished my chores, I realized one of my dogs was not with us. It turned out she had found a dead deer in the pony pasture. Later I learned the deer had been killed by a mountain lion the day before. I wonder if the ponies watched the action. Mostly, though, I’m thankful they are all safe. And I feel justified again for foaling my mares in secure pens rather than out on the hill. My choice is different than many hill breeders in the homeland of our breed, but I don’t think they have the predators we do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

Morning Laughter

Mayflower tucked between two friends!

Mayflower tucked between two friends!

Early in the day, I had seen the mares come into the barn from the hill. Normally they wait there for me to arrive, but by the time I got there this time they weren’t there anymore. I spread their hay, and they still didn’t arrive, so apparently they weren’t close. Before taking a walk to find them, I walked to the stallion pen and fed Asi. On the walk back to the mare paddock I noticed that the mares had decided to come in. The four oldest mares came first and entered the paddock and started working on the hay I had spread. Then I saw yearling Aimee and mare Calista and her foal Mayflower running in. Rather than come into the paddock, though, they went to the waterer on the outside of the paddock.

I completed a short chore, and I saw Aimee come in, but I didn’t see Calista and Mayflower come in. I went to close the gate, pondering a walk to go look for Calista and Mayflower, then Calista appeared and passed me and went in. But where was her baby Mayflower? I started calling as I pulled the gate shut, my anxiety rising as I considered what might have happened to my young foal. As I turned around for one last look at the mares in the paddock before going out to search, I saw Mayflower looking at me from the lineup of mares, as if to say ‘here I am!’ I started laughing really hard. After I acknowledged Mayflower, she turned around and went back to eating hay and I laughed even harder.

© 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.

Pony Moments Summer 2021

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

210722 Asi Ace.JPG

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

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

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

210816 Madie King haze2.JPG

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

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

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

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Madie, Where's Your Baby?!!!

I laughed when I saw this - King in the wrong pen with his mother on the outside!

I laughed when I saw this - King in the wrong pen with his mother on the outside!

I had company for dinner and had to excuse myself right at dark to go bring in my mares and their foals. I was thankful when I stepped out the door and one of the mares called out a greeting. She was usually close at that time of night, so I was glad the pattern had repeated itself on a night when I was later doing this chore than I should have been.

I grabbed a halter and let myself through the pasture gate, and Madie came to greet me. After exchanging hellos, she followed me into her pen where I had put out hay for her. Then I looked around and realized her foal King was nowhere in sight. I said quickly, more than once, “Madie, where’s your baby?!!!”

I hurriedly put a halter on her, and we went back out into the pasture in the direction from which I had seen her come. Failing light is far from ideal when looking for black ponies, especially against a treed background. Eventually, though, I saw the second mare Rose appearing from the ravine, and my relief was abundant when I saw her with two foals, one of which was King.

I put Madie back in her pen, thinking King would follow her in, but I had more work to do. He was more interested in following Rose and her foal Lettie. I haltered Rose and led her into her pen, and eventually Lettie followed; she too seemed interested in hanging out with her brother. I shut the gate of that pen quickly because I knew from the previous day that King would follow Rose and Lettie into their pen if I let him, as the photo here shows. When King realized he was alone, he finally decided to join his mother in their pen, and I shut the gate for the night. But I had quite a story to tell my dinner guests when I returned to them!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

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

Unexpected Glue

The younger herd!

The younger herd!

My seven Fell Pony mares all were running together, spending nights on the hill and days in the paddocks where I can check them over and manage their caloric intake. They have delighted me by coming into the paddocks each morning, awaiting my arrival and morning greeting. Then the herd split in two, with half coming in and the other half staying out so that I had to go out searching for them. I was surprised by the glue that had kept them together and that I had removed.

The herd that has continued to come into the paddocks is the older three mares. The herd that has been expressing their independence is the three youngest: four-year-old Calista, her foal Mayflower, and yearling Aimee.

Herd dynamics always fascinate me. So when the mare herd split in two, I was curious what had changed. I knew I had made a change in the herd, separating Madie for part days in preparation for foaling. When she foaled, I removed her from the mare herd entirely to give she and her foal a chance to bond and then get used to life on the hill without pressure from more dominant ponies.

Madie ended up being the unexpected glue in the herd. Madie likes to be in the company of the older mares who are close in age to her. Aimee likes to be in the company of her mother. With Madie in the herd, these preferences kept the herd together because Calista didn’t want to be alone. With Madie removed, Aimee no longer had incentive to stay with the older mares, and Calista didn’t either with Aimee joining her band. So interesting! Recombining the herd is going to be fascinating when the time comes!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

If you enjoyed this story, you can find more like it in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Snakes in the Morning

Rose in her foaling pen before I put boards around the base to keep her foal in and canines (and maybe snakes?) out

Rose in her foaling pen before I put boards around the base to keep her foal in and canines (and maybe snakes?) out

The first snake encounter of the day was when I was walking my pregnant Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose from the barn to her foaling pen for the day. We walked down into a ravine, and as we descended, I was watching for snakes, when I saw one just in front of me. Before I could stop, Rose had stepped on it. But because I stopped, she did too, on the snake. Well-mannered pony except in this case! I quickly asked her to move ahead then I turned around to see what we had just passed over. It was a baby snake, and it was hissing at us and appeared to be injured, so I went off in search of a rock to put it out of its misery. When we returned, the foot-long youngster was slithering off, and I confirmed that it was a harmless bull snake, so I tossed my rock aside and willed my heart to quit beating so quickly.

A few minutes later, as I was settling Rose into her pen, I heard my young dog Ace barking insistently. This is the same dog that was bit by a rattlesnake a few weeks before. When I stepped around the shed to see where he was, I saw he was barking at a spot on the ground, with my other dog doing an approach-and-retreat dance I’d seen her use at other times this summer around snakes. For herding dogs, these two do amazing imitations of pointers! I quickly grabbed a pitchfork and yelled at the dogs to keep their distance and approached them quickly but cautiously. I scanned the ground where they were pointing, and I couldn’t see anything. Then I drug the pitchfork across the area the dogs were pointing at, and something silver moved and both dogs jumped. It was a snake skin! Once again I willed my heart to quit beating so quickly while smiling at the harmless outcome of our collective excitement.

The previous day I was emerging from a bad case of heat exhaustion, my second of the summer after not having any cases for years. In addition, I had been pondering the news reports from earlier in the week of the just-released report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. The summary seems to be that the climate will be getting hotter and more unpredictable quickly. The two summers I have been here in South Dakota have been hotter than normal, but I can’t take solace from that statistical perspective because these hot days may be our new normal. So I’ve been asking myself how my stewardship of my ponies needs to be adjusted.

At first I was thinking about it from the ponies’ perspective. What do they need that they don’t already have? The good news is that they seem to be doing pretty well so far, making use of sheds and barns to stay out of the sun during the day, availing themselves of cooling breezes, and doing most of their grazing at night. After my heat exhaustion, I then had to ask, what do I need to do differently? Immediately what came to mind is the timing of my breeding and foaling season and the workload they require. In Colorado I hadn’t ever been constrained by weather with regard to breeding and foaling, but I know one breeder elsewhere that has timed foaling for the dead of winter because of their climate. In the face of the hot days I’ve experienced this summer and last, and maybe hotter ones in the future, I will probably have to move my breeding and foaling to early spring and late fall so I don’t have a workload during weather I can’t handle.

Warmer summers may mean a longer snake season, too. I lived without snakes for seventeen years when I was in Colorado at 9,000 feet above sea level, so I haven’t been used to constraining my life because of them. And the long cool season here when they aren’t out lulls me to complacency for many months. Having Ace bit each year of his life so far by rattlesnakes, though, has established a pattern that I can’t ignore. I know the snakes aren’t necessarily aggressive; I remember watching one of my ducks once step on a rattlesnake with no adverse consequences (except for the snake getting quickly relocated out of the barnyard!) Nonetheless, I will be evaluating how my management of my ponies may need to change to keep us all safe from snake bites and, more importantly, how to minimize my anxiety about them. I wonder what other aspects of our new climate normal will require me to rethink my stewardship of my ponies.

A few days before my snakes-in-the-morning, a friend let me know about a rattlesnake awareness class she was taking her dog to. My neighbor Bruce laughed when I told him about it, saying I was getting my awareness through on-the-job training! I am just thankful that my dogs are being cautious and letting me know when they have found something serpent-like, even if it’s just a skin!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Fortune and Misfortune

Two bloody spots on my dogs nose confirmed his misfortune and a pony’s good fortune.

Two bloody spots on my dogs nose confirmed his misfortune and a pony’s good fortune.

This story is about the good fortune of a pony and the misfortune of a dog. I didn’t realize the pony’s luck at the time, so I only have a photo of the dog’s end of things.

I was doing my evening chores, including readying the foaling shed for a pregnant mare. I had finished that chore when I saw the mare appear nearby, walking toward me along the fence toward the foaling shed. I was thankful when she put herself in for the night without me fetching a halter and walking to find her and leading her in. I chuckled because her mother had been the same way.

A few minutes later my dogs and I began our trek to the barn to let the mare herd out. My young dog was frisky with the cooler temperatures and kept me laughing with his antics, including running circles around the foaling pen and doing sprints back and forth between my legs. As we headed back along the same path along the fence that the mare had just come in on, he grabbed a bone and trotted along in front of me. Then he dropped it to go investigate something. When he came back to fetch his bone in front of me on the path, he suddenly yelped and sprung four feet into the air and landed behind me. Then I heard a rattle. Two bloody dots on my dog’s nose confirmed he’d just been bitten by a rattlesnake.

Where I lived in Colorado for seventeen years we didn’t have snakes, let alone poisonous ones, so I’m still getting used to living with them here in South Dakota. My education about treating rattlesnake bites in dogs came fifteen months before when the same dog was bit on the face. This spring I had him vaccinated against rattlesnake venom, trusting he wouldn’t need the protection because he had learned from experience that he shouldn’t mess with them. His misfortune was that he had surprised the snake in deep grass and likely hadn’t even seen it while looking for his bone.

The pony’s good fortune was that the snake hadn’t bit her as she came along the same path a few minutes before. Maybe the snake had just arrived there, or maybe the snake felt her coming from the clomp-clomp of her hooves. Whatever the reason, I was extremely grateful for how things turned out, especially since the mare foaled four hours later. I knew the ropes for getting my dog on the road to recovery and didn’t have to learn the routine for an equine. Or for a human for that matter since I was right there, too. After anti-venom and other supporting medications, two days later my dog is acting normally and has just a little remaining swelling.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Midnight Moonlight Greeting

Willowtrail Spring Maiden at dusk a few days before this story took place.  I didn’t even try to take a photo at midnight under moonlight!

Willowtrail Spring Maiden at dusk a few days before this story took place. I didn’t even try to take a photo at midnight under moonlight!

I had been away for three days on a last-minute trip, attending the Celebration of Life of a deceased friend. I returned home just before midnight, and my immediate priority was to take my dogs for a walk. When I stepped outside with them after changing my clothes, I saw that the waning gibbous moon had risen high enough in the sky to light the valley where I live. With hope in my heart, I scanned the hill nearby, and I was elated by what I saw.

As I walked toward the gate and my eyesight became adjusted to the light, I kept scanning the area. Soon I saw that there was not one but a number of ponies nearby, and that they had begun walking toward the gate too. Before long I had exchanged greetings with all but one of my mares and both my youngsters. The missing mare has a habit of being aloof, so when I couldn’t easily find her in the moonlight, I spoke my greeting, knowing I would see her the following morning. I didn’t even think to try to take a picture, so the one here is of an evening pony encounter a few days before.

My trip had been to an urban area that had required an airplane flight. I can count on one hand the number of such trips I’ve taken in the last ten years, so you can imagine how out of my element I felt, not just because I was away from my four-footed friends. Having my feet back on the ground here was a wonderful feeling. Then, that my mares would make themselves visible nearby for my homecoming was like icing on the cake. This life with ponies is amazing!

© 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.

These Two!

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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

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

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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

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!

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.

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

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.

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.

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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

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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!

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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.