Week One

On Wednesday, February 22^nd, Surya walked down the long driveway of her home in California to climb onto a giant tractor-trailer horse truck. She was five years old, and innocent in the eyes of the world. Soon, she would travel more than 3,100 miles and pass through 15 states. The destination: New Jersey.

The shipping company I used was *almost* the most expensive option I found. But, they came highly recommended by my trainers and apparently everyone else on the internet. So, accompanied by a health certificate, shiny new black halter, and fluorescent green horse sheet, and vaccinated against everything (she was headed to New Jersey, after all), Surya set out.

The truck was to drive straight through to Lexington, stop for a layover, and then drive the rest of the way. Surya would arrive Sunday morning. I was patient for 36 hours, and then started calling the shipping company.

Neurotic Horse Owner: When does she get to Lexington?

Patient Shipping Company: Friday evening.

NHO: It’s now Friday at 5pm. Is she there?

PSC: Not quite yet. Email me Saturday morning.

NHO: It’s Saturday at 7am. Is she there?

PSC: Yes. She’s fine. She arrived at 1am. They get about 6-12 hours of rest before continuing.

NHO: Okay. So, she leaves at what, noon? When does she get here? Still tomorrow morning?

PSC: Yes. We will call you an hour before we get there.

I celebrated Surya’s imminent arrival with a friend on Saturday night, and left for the barn sans sleep at 4:30am. I sat on a log outside the barn and stared down the driveway for the next 3 hours. To their credit, the shipping company called me almost exactly one hour before arriving, which enabled me to really gear up the welcome party by leaping around until I was so tired that I had my trainer drive me down to the end of the driveway when the truck showed up.

Two Big Burly Horsemen climbed out of the cab and went into the truck, commencing to make loud banging noises while I somehow found the energy to jump from one foot to another. Finally – FINALLY – one of the Big Burlies led Surya down the ramp and handed me her lead rope. I fed her a carrot.

Day 1: (Sunday) Surya pranced up the driveway, neck arched, ears up. The two mares in the mare paddock came running up and whinnied in welcome. Surya snorted and flagged her multi-colored tail. Because my trainers/barn owners are very careful, and she traveled all the way across the country with many different strange horses (some of whom were racehorses), it was decreed that Surya would spend two weeks in (relative) quarantine in a small field removed from the barn and other paddocks. When I unattached her lead rope, she trotted off along the fence line, and then almost immediately went to the water trough and sucked some down.  Well, no problem with the drinking of water. She then spent a good 45 minutes walking around swinging her neck around (I imagine it got pretty stiff after 4 days straight in a trailer). After a while, she walked over to the gate and stood with her head up, ears pricked, staring at the other horses and the barn. She remained that way for the rest of the day.

Why the hell am I in New Jersey?

In the afternoon, pushing 36 hours with no sleep, I left to take a nap. I went back at dusk bearing carrots and blankets. I whistled, then walked up to her and gave her a carrot. The goal being, eventually she will come at my whistle. She proved too fuzzy to need the blankets in the weirdly mild night. We stood for a while as the sun went down.

Welcome home.

Day 2: (Monday) I got to the barn after work, at dusk. This time, Surya came up to me when I whistled, looking for carrots. Smart horse. Here’s the thing: she has excellent ground manners. Even when excited, she gives people their own space and never throws her bulk around. She is polite with her mouth when taking treats, and doesn’t try to shove her nose where it doesn’t belong. My job is to keep it that way.  I absolutely refuse to have an ill-mannered anything (horse, dog, sibling, fish, etc.). Since she seemed to like hanging out and getting fed, I got her to follow me around. We worked on yielding to pressure and communicating by body language. I was entertained, and she got more treats when she did right.

After a while of her following me – walking when I did, stopping when I did – I picked up the pace into a jog. Surya followed right along in a trot, keeping a polite distance to my right. She stopped at almost the same time I did. I’m telling you, carrots work miracles. I picked out her hooves and found some of the standard horse itchy spots before leaving for the night.

Day 3: (Tuesday) I was excited tonight, ready to leap around and play. Surya came up to the fence when I whistled. I climbed through the fence and greeted her. Then, I just couldn’t help myself; I took off running to the other end of her field. I turned around and invited Surya to run with me, which she did. We had a lovely time. There will be another post re Running Around Like an Idiot, and in which I will explain my reasoning (insofar as it is extant). I ended playtime to groom her and scratch the itchy spots.

We worked some more on having her follow me of her own volition, and then I wandered over to The Shed.

The Shed.

There is hay inside The Shed. It is dry inside The Shed. It is warm inside The Shed. Surya did not like The Shed. Surya has been around sheds from the time she was born. I think, therefore, she did not like this one because she just spent four days in a small enclosed space and felt no need to repeat the experience. I, however, concerned that she might get cold and/or wet, wanted her to commune with the general spirit of BeingInTheShedness. So I went over to it and Surya stood 15 feet away watching to see if I would get eaten, and if not, what exactly I intended to do in there. I walked in. I didn’t get eaten. I stood awkwardly not sure what I was intending to do in there. I guess of kind of threw some hay around. Surya eventually stuck her head in to get a carrot, and then we departed to her flake of hay down at the other end of the field.

Stupid hay.

I sat down on the fence and ate an apple while Surya attacked her food.  She does a funny thing with hay – she really doesn’t like it in flake form or a pile, so she uses her front hoof to break it up and spread it around before eating it.  She does this vigorously and kind of angrily, with her ears pinned and a concerned look on her face. Also, she got most of her food from grazing lush pasture in California, so hay was a bit of a letdown. She would eat a few bites, then walk away a bit and try to graze the nonexistent winter grass, then come back with a resigned sigh and eat the hay some more. I would have felt bad if she weren’t so passive-aggressively hilarious.

Day 4: (Wednesday) We ran around. By now, she has figured out that if she presents me with a body part I will scratch it. She was really big on the butt scratches tonight. She also met my Awesome Rider Friend and got double her normal ration of carrots.

Day 5: (Thursday) I fed her carrots, I groomed her, I scratched her, I picked her hooves, we ran around. Then, in the dusk, I took her out of the paddock and walked her down the driveway. She was spooky and uncertain, but remained polite on the lead and listened to my voice commands. I let her graze some of the dried grass in the open area beyond the first pasture and she calmed down. She heaved a big sigh when I put her back in her field, and we had established the first level of trust.

Day 6: (Friday) I greeted Surya and then went up to the barn. A little while later I saw her trotting around, and then staring intently over the fence. All the way on the other side of the farm, there was a herd of deer grazing in one of the fields. Surya is extremely good at standing stock still and staring. She stands with all four feet square, her head as high as it will go, her ears pricked, and her tail lifted. When she really gets going, she can hold this pose with no encouragement for over fifteen minutes. I think this is the Kiger in her – ready to run for her life, but no silly prancing. We hung out for a while until it was truly dark; or, rather, I laughed at her while she stood there. So, I walked out into the big mares’ pasture toward where the deer were.  The stars and moon were out, and I could see where I was going. Nevertheless, it was a bit spooky, and I was shivering by the time I got to the center of the field. The mares’ pasture has an assortment of cross country jumps in it. In the dark, they could have been hiding vampires or scary people who play ice cream truck music (coyotes, mountain lions, snakes, spiders, I’m fine with). The deer were gone, and Surya watched me walk back. She nickered when I climbed through the fence. Oh good, you’re still alive. I pet her neck and she nonchalantly ambled over to her strewn about hay.

Day 7: (Saturday) The original plan was to ride Surya today in the indoor arena, while my trainer was in attendance. However, Surya was not entirely comfortable with this plan, and really the whole of the barn area. Ultimately, I decided to take a week hand-walking her and introducing her to the many people, cars, and other assorted scary objects wont to startle. Because she is so calm and assured, it is easy to forget that she hadn’t ever seen, among other things:

1. A bright yellow sports car
2. Jumps
3. An indoor arena

My trainer and I walked her up to the outdoor entrance to the indoor arena, and she planted her feet. WHY, exactly, do you want me to go into the world’s largest box? We took a couple steps inside, I held out treats, and we stood and chatted until the cost-benefit analysis weighed in favor of carrots. Thereafter, I walked her around, letting her sniff jumps, kickboards, and mirrors. We practiced walking out, and back in, and standing patiently while I poured dirt out of my shoes.

One week in, and there’s so much to do!

Freaky horse.