Love+horses and hounds (for Wolfie)

The new water hole, everyone had a taste.

Featured here from left to right: Bishop TB gelding, Zita Shar Pei, Nova rescue pony. Front: Adolf Rotti x and Seamus (who we think is a wolfhound x) rescued from SPCA.

Bishop dug that hole - it took him a while but he did it. When he was done Nova and the dogs came to sample the fresh water, the fruit of his labour. We let him go at it - he was having an absolute blast though working eerily meticulously for a horse. Also he was covered in mud head to toe afterwards and our brave photographer, Tristan, had his fair share of the muddy fallout flecked all over him too.

I'll get it done.

A note about Nova: she has grown out now, and isn't as tiny as in the photo. She was standing with her mom, and her asking price was about US$80 - well below meat value. She is as cheeky as she is smart, and possibly the most curios filly we ever had on the farm - she would come say 'hello' at night when we went out with the flash-light to check-in on everyone one last time before we go to bed. We'll have to move her on - as no one is small enough to bring her on for riding safely, but we'll do in-hand work with her first when she has grown some more. Hopefully she'll make one lucky child a happy person.

Do something for your friends - like Bishop. You won't regret it.

Festive horrors

Our dog (not one previously mentioned on this blog) ran off. We opened up for them to do their ablutions and he disappeared somewhere into the night, on the 1000+ hectares of farm. We searched everywhere, shouted his name, drove around until the sun set. I even contacted a psychic. Emails went flying, telephone calls were made.

He hasn’t come back and it’s been days now. We are in pieces.

The solar energy that we use to power the farm (my foot print is plenty green enough thanksverymuch!) went and gave up the ghost.

Monday morning my gelding went down with a colic. Luckily Kyle was around to help and we were out walking him with the groom, hosing him down because of the heat and motivating him vocally to keep walking on and not to stop. Our groom who worked on the day was a superstar. By the time the vet made it out over the rough, water-logged road an hour and a half had passed and he was bright, perky, grazing and walking of his own volition. The vet thought I was mad, but witnesses (Kyle and the groom) couldn’t believe it.

We burnt to a crisp out in the sun with the man.

I accompanied Kyle back to Johannesburg to complete what I had started in terms of job hunting. In the post-chaos malaise today it took me some time to realise I need to take it a little easier. Have some vitamin C, and a beer.

Gladly I don’t celebrate Christmas, but sadly New Years’ Festivities have always been big ones for me. This year started off bleak, let’s see how we can improve it.

Be careful out there.

{I'll update festive cooking things later, right now I need to 'take it a little easier'}

Love+horses

I have attempted to start a small, private horse sanctuary. I take care of 28 horses all in all (all shapes, sizes, backgrounds). To help me do this I employ three full-time grooms. I have worked out the costs to roughly under a ton of horse feed monthly (minus grass and supplements), plus three salaries and constant vet bills/ farrier bills/dentist bills.

 

We belong here...

I sound like a complete nutcase, but it is worth it, I promise.

I have spent about 15 years of my life in the company of horses, and without them, nothing in my life seems properly defined. It is a strange sense of need that is also organic: I need to eat, I need to pee, I need horses. Luckily, for my troop of happy equines who reached me in various states of starvation and despair, they seem to need me too.

Win/Win.

To do all of this however, I have been relegated to the small-town nether regions, which is mostly just fine thankyouverymuch, but it does threaten to get incredibly lonely sometimes.

Social networking doesn’t help…

I am sick of horse people preaching: horse people, on a soap box, dictating to horse people. How many of you who make your money off of horses have rescued, donated, shared a part of your life to help horses in trouble? Not very many at all. Charity is not for profit… simple as that. How many of you who make a living from horses have a responsibility to contribute to their welfare? Every+single+one.

How many have ‘helped’ horses, but then sold them for profit? This is not charity. How many have taken-in old horses and then made them work hard for every inch of grain in the trough and hay in the manger? This too, is not charity. How many can account for every life you have bred? Not many, if any at all.

I have never, and will never breed horses. Of all those I have taken in, I still have every single one, and I still take care of every single one – and tell you what, it’s been a few years. One day perhaps that will change, some of our horses are very old, some have a score of health troubles. When their time comes we hope to have the presence of mind to make the right decision.

More than this, while unsolicited breeding is to blame for so many animal welfare issues, let’s not hear horse breeders condemn a litter of puppies or kittens – not that I am condoning this either, don’t be silly! Horses are, and will always be, more expensive, more resource-intensive animals to take care of. They will always cost more time, energy and money. They need big spaces and specialised care. They will always be bigger than a dog or a cat; this means that they will always require more space, more food and very careful handling.

Meet my gelding, my knackered TB, my unbelievably complex soul, my thinking horse, my heart:

 I am sentient

Love horses, you won’t regret it. But more than this, help horses – they really need it.

Love+beaching

We recently took a short trip to the beach and took my savages along. My two dogs are not ocean-going mammals, but they happily spend hours idling on the beach or running up and down along the shore. Seeing them speeding up and down the beach and then flop down exhausted after the required amount of fidgeting was excellent. Good dogs. 

 Happy hound

The holiday as a whole was one of those typical ones though: not as much as you had bargained for. This is one of the dangers of looking forward to something too much.

By the last day of holiday, I was startled by a troop of monkeys (I say startled, I was down-right afraid, ran into the house screaming and slapping shut windows and doors) and felt the overwhelming urge to google information on coelacanths on my smart phone all morning (safely tucked away from the monkey panic). I guess that is the point where you just know the holiday has lost its charm.

I did get some cooking done though. I made lasagne, which is something because I am over making lasagne, but it turned out great. Cooking for mates is utter bliss. I made brownies (served with an obligatory side of vanilla ice cream) and my luscious chicken and bacon penne in cream too - and if that sounds like something you would refer to as generous (in a derogatory sense), you are right. It is sheer gluttony.

 Yummy lasagne

So it wasn’t a total waste: lasagne, dogs, beaching, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and a near-drowning which I am on the cusp of finding hilarious... but we shall give that more time. I am fairly sure that pretty soon it will become one of those hilarious ‘I got thrown in jail for drinking in public’ anecdotes. Just like good steaks, we need to give these things time to marinade.

Live life, you won’t regret it.

love+books

I have a mean list of books on order, it will be like Christmas in October (or November if we leave time for shipping).

And our list includes: American Psycho (Bret Easton Ellis), World War Z (Max Brooks), Rosemary’s Baby (Ira Levin), With My Body (Nikki Gemmell) and two books on horse riding.

If you are wondering what the occasion is, it has to do with revenge+my dogs. Instead of sulking, I bought books.

Also, because I need to get stuck into thesis work, I am reading fiction. Such a vice!

Ahhh fiction, it leaves a guilty twang reverberating through my head. Quite unlike the academic material for my thesis, I could read several years' worth of fiction even if the books are terrible.

Love books, you won’t regret it.

More than meets the eye

I see you

Two of my dogs came to me as unwanted pups. They were ill, and they are unfortunately power breed dogs. Smart, big, strong, agile.

This is not their fault.

What also is not their fault is how people perceive them: fierce, vicious. They are not these things. I have seen my dogs melt into happiness at the prospect of going for a drive, cower at the tumbling waves of the ocean that I thought wise to show them, lick the hands and faces of children.

I am fiercely protective if my dogs. When I visit my parents (which is far too often lately) my dogs get relegated to back area, people over-react to their size, they become frustrated. They are judged.

I hate narrow-minded people. I hate how incredibly daft it is to take all your own lack of confidence and transmit it into the shape of a big black dog, or a big frightened horse.

These animals are loved, invested in, they are an extension of somebody’s person. They are not yard hounds relegated to outside and fed the cheapest way possible. They are not simply dogs, they are sentient beings. They think, they feel.

Moreover, they are my responsibility, and I do not take that as lightly as a lot of people do. My boyfriend recently said: ‘he is just a dog.’ But the simple truth is, there is no such thing as just a dog.

Love dogs, you won’t regret it.

Live, Love, Cook

The key ingredients to happiness varies. It depends really, on who you are. I live knee-deep in horses and hounds, I cook (most recently chocolate cake) and I try to get on with the business of living in spite of everything.

This blog is a journal, a record of everyday. I hope you enjoy it :)


Baking this makes me happy!

 Cake: dark chocolate ganache