Kill Pen Starter Kit

The topic of kill pens floats around in almost every discussion amongst horse people these days.  A lot of times it stems from the slightly controversial Ryon’s Rescue Pen out of Ryon Simon’s sales barn in Minnesota.  But he’s not the only one.  There are kill pens all across the country.  And loads of them use the “buy now or it dies” plea to get extra bucks for horses, ponies or donkeys that come through their pen.  And time after time I hear, “why did that good horse end up in a kill pen?”  There are a lot of reasons equines end up in a kill pen, most of them go back to some kind of owner along the way that dropped the ball.  Sometimes they are just a horse with a few screws loose that aren’t safe or trainable.  But time and time again it usually falls back to a hard luck story, hard luck for the horse that is.

So I thought I’d create what I call the Kill Pen Starter Kit.  Here’s how to make sure that your horse, pony or other equine ends up in a kill pen some day.  If you want to be absolutely sure, make sure you check off as many items on the list as possible.  

The first step is typically before the foal is born, when it is just a thought someone has about breeding.  To ensure that you have the first step down, don’t plan the breeding at all.  Don’t think about what qualities,  not only you, but the general horse market, is looking for in a horse.  Feel free to breed that witchy rank mare because she’s too big of a bitch to ride, I’m sure she will make a good broodmare.  And conformation faults like crooked legs, thick necks, sway back, downhill, sickle or cow hock, big head; don’t worry about those!  The foal will be cute!  Bonus if all you care about is that you have a CHANCE at a cool color.  Because, that is what is important.  If it comes out a solid sorrel stud colt, you’ll worry about that later.  Oh and make sure it is grade.  “You can’t ride papers” after all.  Kill pens love grade horses.

While on the subject of grade horses, if you buy your kill pen wannabe later in their life and it is registered, make sure you “lose” the papers.  Afterall, it’s super hard to have a folder or binder or even a safe where you can keep track of that kind of stuff.  I mean, it isn’t like it is a record of your horse’s lineage, pedigree, previous owners, etc… it’s just a piece of paper.  And papers are sure to make your horse more valuable.  Can’t be having that.  If you want them to have a fast track to the kill pen, you gotta get rid of those buggers.  

If you have created a conformational trainwreck grade baby, there are additional steps you need to take to ensure he or she ends up in the kill pen. Make sure that you do nothing with the baby, for years if possible.  But if you feel like you must play with the baby, make sure you teach it to come after you for treats and push you around.  Bonus points if you can teach it to rear on you as a baby because that trick is “so cute”.  Training should be limited to mauling its owners, preferably nipping and biting, and generally being in any human being’s space.  Make sure it isn’t afraid to turn its butt or pin its ears if it doesn’t get what it wants.  That’s really cute too.

As your baby gets older, make sure you don’t ride it or teach it any sort of usable discipline.  Driving, riding, trail, showmanship, none of that, having a skill will make it more desirable.  You want to make sure you go on and on about how you’re waiting until your little buddy is mature enough to handle training or even just tell folks that “time got away from you”.  Or my personal favorite;  “too many projects”.  No one needs to know you bred all those projects without realizing you would actually have to train them to do anything.  That’s on a need to know basis.  

If you want your horse to end up in a kill pen, make sure it looks as crappy as possible.  Either make sure you don’t feed it adequately enough or on the flip side, obese horses make great kill pen horses too.  Make sure it’s feet never get trimmed. Let those suckers grow and grow, hoping all the while they will crack and chip.  Maybe even make the horse lame.  That’s a sure fire way to get them in the kill pen, almost never fails.  Find a pasture full of burrdocks and let your horse out in there for a while, it doesn’t seem to take long for them to be completely full from forelock to tip of the tail.  And while you’re at it, put some crappy fencing up and maybe a few pieces of loose rusty implements for them to get cut up on.  That helps them find their way to the kill pen too.  Untreated wounds are perfect for that.  I mean who wants to spend money on Underwoods, Vetericyn, antibotics or any other wound spray/coat/lotion.  

If you’re not comfortable selling a horse at auction, but want to make sure they have a direct line to the kill pen, price them super low.  Trade them for something cheap, like a saddle or halter or something.  And make sure you sell to the first person with a couple hundred bucks in their pocket.  Bonus points if you never even meet the people.  Just tell them where you keep the horse and have them mail you a check. Those people are usually a sure bet to be kill buyers or close friends of kill buyers.  Then you can tell everyone you sold your horse or pony to a “nice family” and no one will be the wiser.  And you can even pretend to yourself that you did the right thing!  

I’m sure there are a few steps I may have missed, but this should be a good enough list to get you started.  Just remember; grade, untrained, crappy condition and cheap and you’ll be well on your way through the Kill Pen Starter Kit.  

I Stand.

I stand.  

I do.  I stand for every time the anthem is played.  And I sing along, even when the key is too high for me and I have to switch octaves causing me to do a pretty fair job of murdering the anthem.  I stand for the pledge.  My students stand for the pledge.  I put my hand over my heart and my other hand behind my back (from years of practice as a cheerleader on the sideline). I stand.

But I also respect everyone’s right not to.  Don’t get me wrong, I totally get both sides of this issue.  At first it made me angry to see people standing during the national anthem.  I have family and friends that have served and are serving. I have studied and taught history for years.  No one is more proud of this great country and the sacrifices our military has made for that flag and for our country.  But I get it. And I realized I didn't need to take it personally, I needed to look at the big picture.  

We can yell and scream at the violent looters and rioters that they can protest and protest peacefully and then yell and scream at the peaceful protestors too.  Or wait, do you just want protesting to go away?  That's what I heard yesterday, "I don't like any protesting. I wish the protesting would stop". Should everyone just be happy with the status quo?  Maybe that is what the real problem is.  Maybe you think Martin Luther King Jr’s dream has come to be reality.  You’d be wrong.  There are still horrible injustices going on for our minorities every single day.  And just the way we all talk about those who kneel and those of a different color proves it more than anything any minority has ever said to me personally.  I actually read someone on Facebook say, “I have friends who are black, obviously I’m not racist.”   For what it’s worth, having a friend who is black, doesn’t mean you aren’t a racist.

I came to a startling realization a few years ago.  There is a very real chance that I’m a racist or at the very least a bigot.  I work every single day to change that quality about myself.  There were jokes I said, lies I believed and policies I followed that I never even considered the consequences of.  I know that in my past I perpetuated the stereotype and did not challenge my childhood teachings enough.  I’m trying to change.  I’m trying to be the change.  I’m trying to make sure that my children do not grow up thinking as I did and that they look beyond the color of someone’s skin, someone’s gender, someone’s sexual preferences or someone’s religious beliefs.  I’m reading, I’m learning, I’m listening and I’m trying.  I hope to live in my future better than I was in my past.

I really struggle to explain myself when it comes to these hot button issues.  I can’t explain why I don’t feel that the movement to #takeaknee is a bad thing.  I can’t seem to find the words to discuss how I feel that any form of peaceful protest does not dishonor the flag or our country, but instead is the greatest honor a person can bestow upon their American heritage.  Protest and change is what our country is based on.  We are to be safe harbor for people to exercise their rights, all of their rights.  Not just the ones that give us warm fuzzies and make us proud.  Isn’t our country the one place where people are supposed to be allowed to say what’s on their mind without the fear of losing your job, losing your citizenship or being imprisoned?  If we don’t allow people to protest against the government without fear of losing their job, what’s next?  Not being allowed to speak our minds about the government?  Having to salute the president?  Wearing a pin to show your undying love for the emperor (I mean president)?  Where do you all draw the gray, smudged, blurry line in the sand?  This is okay way to exercise your freedom of speech, but that clearly is not.  

I would like to share the words of a man who said it so much better than I can.  I did not alter his words in any way, I also did not give his name as I am not sure how comfortable he is with me sharing this on my blog.  If he would like to be given credit - I hope he contacts me and I will surely include his name here.  Background is that this was his response to a meme posted about what taking a knee really means that showed a veteran missing his lower leg.  

My hat is off and my hand is on my heart every week at the games I attend, because I am proud to have grown up in this country. However, I do not worship the flag, and I do not worship this country, and I do not put patriotism ahead of the hard work that needs to be done to ensure racial equality in this country. When others want to peacefully protest, I will protect their right to do so, whether right wing, left wing, or center. The moment that we start to let the rights of others be trampled upon is the moment that we set ourselves up to have our own rights trampled on in the future. I have been silent on the national anthem issue, because of course people have the right to disagree with the protests. However, when our President called for people to be fired because he perceived them as being unpatriotic I had to draw the line. For a President to do that is much more disrespectful to our country, our flag, and to the soldiers that died to protect our rights than a peaceful protest during the anthem. I don’t like the false choice that is given, it is possible to be patriotic, support our flag and also support those who want to protest against inequality.

Thank you for saying the words that I find so difficult to find. I could not agree with you more!  I know we all want this to disappear off of our newsfeeds, and I apologize.  However, it was one of those things where I had to at least get my own thoughts down for my peace of mind.  As always, you don’t want to hear, feel free to click on by.  

In Loving Memory Keepsakes

I have a box of tail hair that I’ve been holding onto since 2012.  2012 is when we lost our pony, Levi.  Prior to Levi, we had only ever lost one other pony.  We put Little Star down and never even thought of saving her tail hair.  But after we had buried Little Star, I found out that there were so many really great ways to save a piece of your most treasured friend and lots of them required mane or tail hair.  

Levi was not a pony we searched out.  We got Levi in on trade and at the time I thought he was kind of an asshole. A cute asshole - but an asshole nonetheless.  We let him be cute all winter and then in the spring took him to the barn to tune him up to be my show pony.   He pulled an attitude one time and got what we lovingly refer to an “iron injection”.  From that point on he remembered that he was a good broke pony.  And boy, did he surprise us.  He was literally the biggest, sweetest, calmest hunk of pony we had.  When Giggles got hurt that spring, Levi quickly went from being my show pony, to Sophie’s show pony.  And she couldn’t be beat, one of her competitors called her the “Unbeatable Sophie Onsager”.  That pony could jog a hole in the ground and never stopped a foot wrong or spooked at anything.  There were even times I would hop on, just for the fun of showing him English.  He was the pony that safely took Sophie through some of her first canter classes.  Always got his leads, never spooked about anything (except the time that the turkey flew up under his nose) and was darn cute doing it all.  And then we lost him to a stupid rock in the pasture.  

When the vet clinic called us to let us know that we couldn’t save Levi, we made the trek to say our goodbyes.  I’m not going to lie, cutting that tail hair off was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  It is such a final crushing door closing.  It’s hard to describe, but even though we knew we were there to say goodbye to him and that we couldn’t fix him or make him better, cutting off that tail was the absolute point of no turning back.  

For all these years I haven’t know what to do with my treasured tail hair.  I’ve seen loads of great ideas, but I only have so much hair.  When it is gone, it’s gone.  I want something that will last and that I can have for years and years to come.  A couple of years ago I did buy a locket.  I took a small small portion of Levi’s tail and braided it into a coil.  That coil I put into the locket with a horse charm.  It’s a start.  But what to do with the rest?  

I’ve seen so many people with great keepsakes.  This summer a good friend showed me a saddle decoration that she had made from a lost hooved family member.  I was pretty sure that was what I wanted.  But I was too chicken to take that final step.  I’ve seen hat bands, key chains, vases (a personal favorite but too expensive for me), necklaces, bracelets, rings, and so much more.  Just today a friend shared beautiful necklaces and keychains that she had made with her pony’s hair.  It was an inspiration again for me to make a final decision of what I want to do with Levi’s hair.  

So here I go.   What should I do with Levi’s hair?  Can I make a final decision yet?  Only time will tell.  These are some of my favorites that I have saved...    

I love the idea of a saddle charm… this page comes highly recommended:  http://www.charminghorsehairjewelry.com/

There is always the option of that horsehair pottery.  Mostly sharing for others that may be trying to decide.  This is out of my price range.  But if you youtube how it is done, it was super cool to watch.  http://www.myhorseart.com/

Speaking of out of my price range, but oh my goodness I wish! Check out the rings on this website.  I have my favorite all picked out.  https://www.houseofsalmi.com/

Not out of my price range and one I keep coming back to, I love these necklaces and other ideas she has for sharing your horsehair memorial with a resin pendant.  I especially love the horsehair cross set in the rectangle resin.  Love that!  https://www.facebook.com/ResinReflections/

Here is the one my friend used for her special pony.  I love some of the ideas on this page, including the rustic charms. I also love the rings that this person designs further down the page.  https://www.facebook.com/EquineKeepsakeDesigns/

Too many choices!  And I know that I would love any or all of them.  So now the choice needs to be made. What to do with Levi’s tail?  Or, do you have other favorite suggestions than those listed here?  Anyone who has owned horses for any length of time knows the pain of losing their companion, their partner in crime, their therapy animal, their buddy.  And deciding what the best way is to remember them forever is something I don’t want to mess up.  So help!  

Haters gonna hate on western pleasure

Western Pleasure.  It seems like these days on social media, you either love it or you hate it.  And boy do the people who hate it have a lot of misinformation.  There are times I hate it too.  But usually it is because I know my horse can collect and move like a pleasure horse and she’s just choosing not to, not that I hate the discipline as a whole.  For some reason, other people seem to think it is an us vs them kind of thing.  “I barrel race so I hate western pleasure.”  “I do reining, so I hate western pleasure.”  I will truly never understand that.  Maybe it is because we have a background in POA’s where the ponies are expected to do all of the disciplines?  Whatever the case, let me set you straight on some common misconceptions about western pleasure.

First of all, the horses are not “beat into submission”.  Are their bad western pleasure trainers who use inhumane methods to get through to their horses?  Absolutely!  I wish tying a horse up, deadening tails and some of the other inhumane “training” methods would go away forever.  But it isn’t unique to western pleasure.  There are also bad barrel, reining, jumping, trail, endurance, driving, oh wait - you probably get the point, don’t you?  Our horses don’t go around with their heads level, slowly and relaxed because we beat them.  They go around like that because they want to and are bred to move that way.  

Western pleasure horses are not lame.  Are there some who may be?  Absolutely.  Are there people who ride their game horses lame? Their reiners?  Their driving horses?  Are you seeing my point yet?  Western pleasure horses don’t go slow because they are lame. They go slow because they want to.  We train them to realize that it is easier to go slow than race around.  We let them know that just because we ask for the lope, doesn’t mean we expect to go fast, they can go as slow as they want to. And if they are bred for it, and have the mindset for it, they want to go slow.   We teach them to move with their backs rounded and collected which causes them to move slower.  We teach them to engage their hind end and reach underneath.  It’s a lot of work for them (and takes a hell of a long time to train them to do), but when you get those first few strides of a sweet jog or lope you realize it was all worth it.

And don’t tell me that all western pleasure horses look lame.  There are some judges who still reward the incorrectly moving 4 beat lope (trope) or the jog that isn’t even a true diagonal pair jog.  They are getting fewer and farther between all the time.  Most judges won’t place you unless you have a true 3 beat lope AND you had better be reaching under with that hind leg.  I stood in the line up and heard several judges this year talk to my fellow competitors and explain this very reason for not placing them in the class.  If you’re stuck in the ‘80’s and ‘90’s and still basing your opinion off of that, then you need to stop sharing an incorrect opinion because it makes you look ignorant.  Stop saying “I wish western pleasure would change” and then not even noticing when it does.  

Ugh, then there are the people that keep talking about peanut pushers.  I’m so sick of hearing that “they trained that horse to be a peanut pusher” or “only the peanut pushers win”.  For Pete’s sake!  Go to a show!  Watch a class.  There are NO peanut pushers any more.  If there are (and my horse was one) it is because the rider is a novice or not as good of a rider and cannot get their damn horse’s head up.  Coupe wanted to drag his head along on the ground at the jog.  I spent a majority of my time holding my horse’s head UP.  Stop thinking that we are forcing their heads down that way.  I wish I still had a video that I took of him just loping around in the round pen, loose, with his head on the ground, moving along at a snail’s pace.  It’s what pleasure horses are BRED to do.  No, we don’t expect your colt out of Frenchman’s Guy or Dash For Cash to do it.  Because that isn’t what he is bred to do.  For the record, level headset is where it is at.  And level headset is what is being rewarded in the show pen.  If you google peanut pusher horse, almost every image that comes up is not a peanut pusher.  I haven’t seen more than a few of what you would call a “peanut pusher” since we started showing 10 years ago.  So yeah, if you want to sound like you need a disco ball or neon parachute pants, keep talking about peanut pushers. I hear M.C. Hammer is playing at the Civic Center…

It isn’t about the bling.  I’m so sick of people spouting off about how they can’t/won’t show western pleasure because of all the bling that you have to have to be able to show.  They think you have to have saddles worth thousands, headstalls worth hundreds and jackets covered in crystals.  If you want to wear all that, more power to you.  Some people really really LOVE their bling.  I do not.  To me, most of it is just gaudy.  And heavy.  And hot.  There are some jackets that I do love if they are simple and understated.  But most, gaudy.  However,  HOWEVER, loads of people love their bling.  Just like loads of gamers love their bling.  It is all a personal choice.  And before you get all nuts saying you can’t win without it, bullcrap.  It wins.  Ask any judge if they place someone over someone else because of a jacket.  Or a saddle. Or a headstall.  And they will laugh at you (Well, they probably won’t because they are more professional than that, but they might think of laughing).  They have enough of a job just watching the horse, much less if that ensemble is a pretty.  Clean tack.  Clean and pressed clothes.  Well fitted and shaped.  It’s not that hard.  And it isn’t that expensive.  

I hear people say that they would never want to ride a western pleasure horse and it makes me sad.  I could say that I never want to ride a crazy game horse.  But then I’m missing out because there are a lot of sane and fun game horses that would be a blast, albeit terrifying, to ride.  I think a true horseman is willing to experience all disciplines.  My horse bucket list includes riding a draft, riding a racehorse (on a closed track on an old tired out racehorse so I don’t die), riding a hunter/jumper over short little jumps, riding out west, riding a cutter, and so much more.  I don’t put my blood, sweat, tears and entire life savings into those disciplines, but I can appreciate them. I can understand what goes into making a top notch competitor.  Maybe if we all stopped judging (again that age old lesson), we would open our eyes to new things!  New things are fun. Make your bucket list and branch out.

Bleacher butt

It’s the little things a person takes for granted sometimes, like your tailbone.  I bet none of you really think about the fact that your tailbone even exists.  It just happily goes along, hanging out at the base of your spine, doing it’s thing.  And you, you lucky person you, you don’t even give it a second thought.  I was just like you, until… I wasn’t.

It was midway or almost to the end of the basketball season (and JO) when I really started getting sick of having what I called bleacher butt.  This pain in the rear, literally, from sitting on the bleachers for any length of time.  And the time it took before the pain kicked in got shorter and shorter and shorter.  I started standing at every time out and every break I could get.  And then thankfully, the season ended.  Track started and joy of all joys - you don’t sit at track meets! (You do a lot of standing around freezing your ass off, but not the shooting bleacher butt pain.  Trade-off?)

But the “bleacher butt” didn’t get better.  It got worse.  And pretty soon it was couch butt, dining room table butt and even worse - car seat butt.  The absolute worst was any car ride over half an hour.  Especially with driving.  At least riding I could sit on one foot or shift from one hip to the next.  But driving forced me to sit on my tailbone and man did it start to hurt.  And spring turned into summer…

Summer it became unbearable, sitting in those bag chairs at softball games was excruciating. I gave up and stood for most of them. I know everyone is going to tell me that it was riding horses that caused the problem.  It was not.  Riding doesn’t seem to make it any worse or better.  And English saddle seems to cause more pain than a western saddle, but neither causes any more pain than the average night on the couch. And in fact, at least while I’m riding I don’t seem to notice the pain or even feel it.  Riding is one of the few things that doesn’t seem to hurt.

I decided that I needed to get it fixed before the wedding.  I tried talking to my regular doctor at my regular checkup.  She didn’t have any advice other than the dreaded donut pillow and to be patient.  I tried talking to the doctor at Acute Care the time my back was spasming and I needed to go in.  He thought the muscle relaxers and pain meds he put me on would fix it.  They didn’t touch it.  So I head to the chiropractor.  Three times.  And let me tell you, after the first time I commented that I felt like the chiro owed me a drink for how up close and personal we got trying to put the tailbone where it’s supposed to go.  He claimed he put it back in place and that it was just shifted to the right.  But I’m here to tell you the pain didn’t change.

I bought the dreaded donut pillow.  I tried using it whenever I drove or rode in the car, sat on the bench at the kitchen table, sat on the floor, ect… I worried people would ask me if I had hemorrhoids or just judge silently, but I was at the point where I had to try something.  It didn’t help.  The pain is sometimes almost like sciatica, reaching down my legs.  

I’ve tried stretching, albeit probably not often enough.  I’ve taken time off riding. I’ve taken loads of time off running and the elliptical.  I’ve tried OTC pain relievers.  I’ve tried chiro and massage.  (The massage helped for a couple of days.  She even commented at how tight my muscles were and in her theory, a chiro and massage therapist working together might be able to get ahead of it.)  I’ve whined. I’ve complained.  I’ve caught my breath when I sit wrong.  I’ve spent too much money trying to figure this out and get it better and I’m frustrated.  

Here’s what I do know. I will never again take for granted being able to sit on my ass without pain.  I will never again complain that seats are uncomfortable, because even hard bleachers are better than the pain I feel sitting on a comfy couch these days.  And I will never again take for granted being able to ride down the road in relative peace.  

I know that a sore tailbone is minor to what some people are going through and I vow to stop complaining.  But for now, I have a legit pain in my ass and it isn’t getting any better.  I’ve decided that it is what it is and I’m going back to living my life. I will ride. I will run.  I will do what I love to do and maybe just stand for games from now on.  Standing burns more calories, right?  

Pony Power

We left POA after the fall of 2013 when we realized that with all the major life upheavals we weren’t going to be able to afford to breed show anymore.  We tearfully said goodbye to our very special and talented ponies so that they could continue to compete at the top level and have a chance to shine.  They haven’t disappointed us and most of them are still showing and winning as high as the Congress level.  A few are getting some time off to just be ponies and enjoying some down time, but all are well loved and doing great.  We sold our last POA in 2014 and now, here we are, not even 4 years later and we are selling off the big horses and bringing back ponies.  

It all started with the impulse buy of Kuzco from some friends of the family.  And then Anne Dykstra helped Libby get Hope.  And when you have really good, quiet ponies in the pasture, it’s easy to remember how much you loved them and 1, turned into 2, which turned into 3 and guess what?  Number 4 comes home this weekend.  

We are so excited for 2018.  The goal is to get to more POA shows and really show off our fancy new ponies.  We may attend some open shows and take our ponies against the big horses and show them what pony power looks like.  We are looking forward to new classes, new challenges and new faces in the pasture.  And through it all...SPOTS!

Some of you are probably thinking, what the heck is a POA?  As far as I know a POA is a legal form for Power of Attorney.  For those of you who haven’t been around our blog forever and ever, POA is Pony of America.  For many folks that meet our ponies, they are shocked.  When people hear the word “pony” they think of one of two things:  1. Tiny little miniature horses or shetlands or  2. Ponies are baby horses.   One is partially true, two is absolutely false.

The POA can be anywhere from 48” to 56”.  Yes, we refer to our ponies in inches, while almost every other breed of horse measure in hands.  That’s because our breakdowns are so specific.  In fact, on POA papers it will be so exact that the height will be listed to the ⅛ of an inch. Height is everything.  The pony cannot measure over 56” in order to be able to show at a POA show.  Even a smidge over and they are out of luck.  Every show, until the pony is 6 and able to get a permanent height card, every single show the pony has to be inspected.  Ponies are inspected for two things; height and color.

Which brings us to the second thing that makes a POA a POA.  The pony has to have appaloosa coloring and characteristics.  That means spots.  And not big paint horse spots.  Appaloosa spots.  Or roaning.  But not quarter horse roaning.  Which can be really confusing for people who don’t understand the difference.  Let’s see if I can find pictures that will demonstrate the difference.  

This first picture is a varnish roan POA:

This is a roan quarter horse:

There are also fewspot POAs, which a lot of novice people will look at and call a white horse.  Yep - there is a whole lot of white on a fewspot, but they are not white horses. For the record, there is no such thing as a white horse.  There are fewspots and there are grays.  No such thing as a white horse.  Oh wait - there are also cremellos.  They look pretty white, but they aren’t.  So don’t call them that.  Okay? Our Cotton was the whitest pony you would ever see. But his actual basecoat color was sorrel. Weird. I know.

My personal favorite are blankets.  We haven’t had as many as I would love, but they are my favorite.  It’s where you have a solidish looking horse and they have the appaloosa spots over their butt and hip.  Yep, I said butt.  Many have white spots and some have dark spots too.  Cutie was a blanket butt (but she was roaning out with age).  Bibble probably had my all time favorite blanket.   Kuzco is a blanket butt too.  Some blankets go all the way to the withers and there can be some really fun variations of this coat pattern.

There are so many variations to appaloosa coloring.  And one of the best thing about them is that if you don’t like it, stick around.  There are very good chances that it will change as the pony ages.  I have seen completely solid babies be nearly white by the time they are 10 years old.  Our Licorice pony was born completely solid black and was covered in snowflakes by the time we had her at 5.   

Another popular coat pattern are the leopards.  They aren’t my favorite, but they are striking. Especially the really loud and dark spots.  Unless my memory is failing me, I think Kid might have been our only leopard. Sadly I don’t have a picture of him laying around.

Having a striking spotted pattern isn’t the only color characteristic that the pony needs to have.  The pony needs to have other appaloosa coloring, like mottling (speckled pink skin).  Mottling can be found around the eyes, muzzle, and *cough* *ahem* private parts. There is a funny story about that I should share in another blog some day…

They also need to have sclera.  Sclera is a white ring around the colored part of the eye.  Sometimes terrified horses will show the white around their eye.  POA’s need to have it all the time.  In the above picture you can see it pretty clearly.

Lastly, striped hooves - a lot of horses have them on their legs with the white socks.  POA’s need to have them even on their dark legs.  

There is a lot to take in and a lot more to it than even I have touched on here. But for anyone who cares and is still reading, you have a little bit of the basics and hopefully understand what makes a POA a POA now. Color and height aside, there is so much more to a POA. The POA was bred and designed to be a "using pony for the youth". There are built to be of smaller stature for kids, yet even more versatile than the larger stock horse. A POA is expected to show in a wide array of classes, all on the same day, often going from one to the next with very little break between. They should be able to halter, do showmanship, English and western pleasure, trail, reining, western riding, jump a course, then switch gears to turn and burn in a wide array of game classes from scurry to key hole, barrels and every imaginable game between. Oh and don't forget the costume classes!

And all the while, the POA needs to keep a quiet and level mind. Disposition is key for these ponies and they had better be steady as they come. They are carrying the little loves of our lives after all. Are you ready for some pony power in your barn yet?

Fifth Grade in 2017-2018!

After my last blog I feel like I need to take a step back and share some “good” stuff.  So let’s see… what to talk about… what to share.

Well, I teach fifth grade this year.  Fifth is a new grade level for me.  I can officially say that I’ve taught everything from 4th - 12th grade now.  I wasn’t terribly thrilled with the idea at first, switching grades is always kind of a hassle.  But it was the best for me for personal reasons.  And here I am, loving it.  Let’s discuss what I’ve learned about fifth graders.

First of all, they are the sweetest buggers on the planet.  Seriously nice kids.  Maybe it is just this section of kids, I don’t know.  I told my family last night at the dinner table that I didn’t know if I would go back to sixth grade because I love my fifth graders so much and my oldest daughter cautioned me that it was “maybe just this one group of fifth graders”.  I suppose she could be right.  In that case, I want to follow them until graduation.  

What’s so great about them you ask?  Well, the second day of school I overheard a couple of girls talking about me and one of them said, “she’s so pretty!” and the other agreed.  And that same day we got to talking about something and one kid said his mom was way older than me.  Being a former graduate of FC and knowing his mom I said I was pretty sure his mom was younger than me.  And he said, “Oh no.  My mom is 40.”  To which I replied, “yep.  And I’m 41.”  That apparently was shocking news and several students had to comment that they didn’t believe that as I looked like I was in my 20’s or 30’s at the most.  Of course when I told them that they were my favorite, then it became a contest to see how young they all could say I looked.  I’m not complaining.  It wasn’t a bad thing.  I’m a little concerned about their vision, but if they don’t have a future in the carnival game of “Guess My Age”, I guess we had better get to work on plan B.

I also love love love how they see the world.  You would think that there isn’t that big of a difference between fifth and sixth.  Apparently there is a load of a differences.  For example, we are reading a book called Shiloh.  In the first chapter the author is building the main character and spends several paragraphs describing how Marty doesn’t want to eat dinner because it is rabbit that his dad shot.  It goes on to say that Marty wants to know if the rabbit died right away (so it didn’t suffer) and when the dad says “soon enough” and the little sister wants to know if it’s head was shot clean off, Marty can’t finish eating and has to leave the table.  Now sixth graders would (with a little coaxing) get that the author was trying to show that Marty cared for animals and didn’t like to think of them hurting.  Fifth graders when asked all shouted “He’s a picky eater!”  Sigh.  Yes, maybe Marty is.  But I loved their lightbulb faces when I explained the other side of what the author might trying to show them.  Such excitement!  

Kind of like the student who was so proud of his definition for “lame”.  Of course he was right when he said it meant “something that is not cool”.  And another student today who said “boring, kind of like a bad movie or TV show.”  Or the definition of kindle being a tablet thing that you can play games and read books on.  Oh the generation gap is strong with these kiddos.  

Fifth graders love to tell stories.  They all have a story.  For every. Little. Thing.  I wish I could hear and share them all, but I would need a much bigger blog and a lot more time.  Sadly I have to tell many of them that we don’t have time to share.  It totally bums me out because there little faces get such a crushed look and I know that there stories would be a hoot.  There are not enough hours in the day with them, that’s for sure.  

I have never had a group of students who are less concerned about getting things done or getting to work.  They would much rather tell stories and have a pile of homework than get to work and get it done.  I guess I wouldn’t complain about getting to sit around and tell stories all day, but I’m sure their parents will be just thrilled with a pile of homework coming home each night.  Everyone knows I love a good story.  

All in all, this move has been a Godsend and just what I needed this year.  Change is good, even change that we shake our heads in wonderment at first.  But there is a little downside to all this energy and enthusiasm.  Fifth grade is exhausting!  Wow.  Take the normal first week hangover and multiply times 100.  I cannot believe that tomorrow is Monday already and after two days of sleeping in until 7:00 and getting to bed as early as I can, I’m still wiped.  Oh well, ready or not, here comes week two!

Being Divorced with Kids

I may have blogged about this before.  I may blog on it again.  I will not apologize for either because obviously it needs to be said and said again.  In fact, I’m quite sure I probably handled the topic with kid gloves before but guess what?  The gloves are coming off.  Subtlety seems to be lost on some people so I’ll be blunt.  And honest.  And see if some of you out there in divorced land get it.  And yes, sometimes I will be talking about my own experiences.  Sometimes I will be talking about experiences I see my husband have.  Sometimes it will be experiences my friends have gone through.  And heck - sometimes it will be things my students have told me.  Because that is how I’ve learned what I’ve learned.  By observing kids.  Lots and lots and lots of kids.  So let’s get started.

#1:  Your feelings don’t matter.  I’m sorry.  They don’t.  Not when it is your feelings or your kids’ feelings.  Yours come a distant second to your kids.  Hell, maybe further back than second. And by your kids, I mean ALL your kids, including your stepkids.  You do not get to vent or take your anger out on them.  You do not get to complain to them.  You do not get to put them in the middle.  Because they are your KIDS.  You know those little people that you helped make?  They don’t have to deal with your shitty adult issues.  Let them be kids.

#2:  Therefore, shut up about the other parent.  You can hope that your ex gets rolled in honey, covered in fire ants, pushed up the side of a mountain and dropped down a volcano, but you shut up about it.  You put on your best Academy Award winning performance and FAKE IT.  Yep, I just told you to be fake nice.  I don’t care what that person has done to you in the past.  I don’t care what that person is doing to you now.  You fake it.  You put on your big girl (or boy) panties and you fake it.  You won’t win an acting award, but your kids will be better off and that’s better than any damn award.  So fake it.  Preferably with a smile on your face.

This means not talking badly about the other parent in front of the kids.  This means saving that venting for a time when the kids can’t hear.  This means not trying to “tell the truth” to the kid about their parent and saying everything they did to make your life miserable.  And this definitely means not making up crap about the other parent to try to make them look bad.  You know who ends up looking bad?  You do.  You look like an asshole.  Do you want to look like an asshole in front of your kids?  No?  Then shut up.  Because even if it starts out great and they think you’re right now, someday they will grow up and figure out that you’re a lying piece of crap.  And then what?   

This also means not finding great joy every time they complain about the other parent and encouraging it.  This is really hard.  So let’s be honest.  You can actually find great joy in that they “love you more” (at least in that moment), but…. wait for it…..guess what… you have to FAKE like you don’t.  Tell them that complaining to you doesn’t solve anything.  Tell them that if they have a problem with the other parent they need to talk to them about it.  Tell them that you support them and love them, but that you weren’t there so you don’t know the situation and can’t make a judgment on it.  Tell them whatever you can think of that lets them know that they don’t have to hate the other parent in order to make you happy.  

#3:  Go to all their stuff.  Yep, that means skipping your stuff.  That means, not going out for your anniversary when they have a volleyball game or a choir concert.  It means not thinking “thank goodness it’s his weekend so I don’t have to go to that game.”  It also means skipping the trip to the lake, the ocean, the beach, the mall, the girls’ night out, the fishing trip, all of it.  Oh blah blah, you have to do things for “yourself” and all that.  Whatever.  No.  You need to be there for your kids.  Trust me, divorce sucks enough as it is for the kids.  They don’t need to be looking in the stands wondering who gives a rats ass about them and seeing that your fishing buddies are more important than they are.  Okay, maybe I’ll let you off the hook once or twice.  But that’s it.  Put your kids first.  It’s pretty simple.  Your buddy calls and asks you to go to the lake.  You check your kids’ schedule and they have a band concert.  Do you think about it?  No. You don’t.  You say, “sorry, maybe next time.”  See, not that hard.  

#4:   Be a parent.  Like a good one.  Not the one you may have been in the past, but a good parent.  Read up on it.  Try books or websites like “How to Raise Your Kid Not to be an Asshole”. (If that isn’t an actual book, it should be.)  It’s called setting limits and having expectations.  And, wow - brace yourself, backing up your ex when they have to set limits for your kids.  That’s going to be tough now isn’t it?  Too bad.  When they come to you whining about how hard dad is on them because they have to clean their room, you can’t join in the bitchfest saying, “what an asshole!” Nope.  You back that parent up, who is doing their job and doing it well, and say, “Good for Dad.  And while you’re at it, go clean your room.”  If you’re not a good parent, remember that faking it crap?  Do that.  Give your kid a chore.  It won’t kill them.  

#5:  Make a schedule.  Stick to it.  Unless a hurricane is bearing down on you.  Or you’re in the hospital.  Or there is a zombie apocalypse.  I’m reaching here, because reasons for changing the schedule are pretty slim.  You don’t change the schedule to make life easier for you.  You don’t change the schedule because you would rather go to the cabin than a JO volleyball tournament.  You don’t change the schedule because “I’m a person too and need a vacation.”  Bullshit.  Kids need routine.  And they need to know that they have a schedule they can rely on.  That means sometimes you give up your stuff and your weekend to get them to their stuff.  Don’t understand?  See #3.  

#6:  Don’t try to buy their love.  Kids love getting stuff, some kids more than others.  And it sure gives a person that warm fuzzy when they are so excited about that new thing for 10 seconds and tell you that you’re the best parent ever.  But then if you can’t back up that new stuff with actual, ya know, feelings, that new shirt loses its appeal pretty quickly.  And pretty soon you’re not a parent, you’re just an ATM with a shitty attitude.  

#7:  Never put your kids in the middle of a custody battle.  Never tell you kids you’re going for full custody.  If your ex is endangering the kids by running a brothel or a gambling ring or is a drug dealer, by all means; go for full custody.  But your kids don’t need to know your legal woes and they sure as crap don’t need to be told they aren’t ever going to see their other parent again.   So shut up about it.  

If you’re just going for full custody, or threatening full custody, because you’re a vindictive, manipulative piece of crap, then just stop.  Get over yourself.  Get over your ex and grow up.   You won’t get it.  You’ll waste your money and your ex’s AND for bonus, you’ll cause your kids a lot of stress, worry and emotional pain.  So good job!  Way to be a piece of crap.  And someday when they are older and they realize that you lied, manipulated and caused them to not have a relationship with the other parent, guess who looks like an ass?  Again.  Adults are far less forgiving than kids are.  Good luck with that.

#8:  This is not elementary school.  Your friends don’t have to pick sides.  Your family doesn’t have to pick sides.  Stop expecting them to.  This isn’t the good old playground days where you could tell your friends, “If you’re friends with them, you can’t be friends with me and you’re not invited to my birthday party.”  You know what I say to that as an adult?  Good!  I wouldn’t go to the birthday party of or be friends with a selfish piece of crap like you anyway.  Your kids don’t need to see you acting like a 7 year old.  Guess what?  You’re an adult.  You and your ex can have mutual friends.  It’s entirely possible.  If Ross and Rachel could get over it on Friends, you can too.  And you should.  If you’re a decent human being that is.  Your ex and his/her family are still your kids’ family.  And they should get to see them without feeling guilty or worrying about making you feel bad.  Tuck your “wittle feewings” aside and grow the hell up.  See #1 and #2 for further information.

#9:  When you screw up (notice I didn’t say if), WHEN you screw up, apologize.  But not that fake apology shit where you just keep doing the same stupid stuff over and over again.  Actually apologize and really TRY to change your behavior.  Like try harder than you have ever tried at anything before in your whole life.  Remember that your kids are the most important thing in the whole wide world and that is all that matters.  Every. Single. Time.  

#10:  Don’t use your kids to get back at your ex.  You hate your ex.  We get it.  That’s why they are your EX.  And sure, the only way to get back at someone who could give a rip less if you fall off the earth is to attack the one thing they have that they truly care about in this world.  But they are your kids too and putting the kids in the middle of your hatred hurts them way more than your ex.  Think about that the next time you tell your kids that they should be snotty to their mom, or letting them skip going to see their dad because he has rules, or telling your kid they have to choose between being with you or being with them.  Kids deserve a chance to grow up without that crap in their lives.  They didn’t choose divorce.  You did.  

#11: The last one seems like such common sense you would think I wouldn't have to say it. But I should have learned by now that what is obvious to some isn't obvious to all. Keep your relationship with your ex off social media. All of it. Every bit. Don't complain about your ex. Don't complain about your ex's new significant other. Don't share what he or she did. Save those conversations for your gaggle of girls and best friends over a glass of wine or a text. Your dirty laundry doesn't belong on social media. And you know who looks like an ass again when it shows up there? You may be catching on if you say, you. Again. If you're thinking to yourself "I should put that on Facebook or Instagram or Twitter", channel your inner Fat Amy and reply "hmmmm... better not."


Lastly, if you’re having trouble with any or all of the above list, I’ll make it super simple for you.  Kids come first.  Before anything else.  Kids.  Before you.  Before your spouse.  Before your job.  Kids.  Way up there at the top of the list.  It’s really that easy.  Don’t screw it up.  You only get one shot at this parenting thing.  There are no “do-overs”.  This is it.  You helped bring little human beings into this world and with that comes a huge responsibility.  If you can’t handle that, get out of the way for those that can.