My hometown. My hometown is Harmony. Yep, that's really the name. Yep there is a corny story about how Harmony came to be. And yep, I'm darn proud of my hometown.
I get asked all the time how I like St. Charles. I LOVE St Charles. Please don't get me wrong. I love the people here, everyone has been so nice and welcoming. I love the little grocery store and how friendly and helpful everyone is there - seriously, swing by Mike's and you'll see what I mean. I love Good Sport and Del's breakfast buffet and Happy Family for some Chinese and even Jimmy's Pizza (although it is no Village Square). I love the parks and haven't even discovered them all yet. Tim and I took a walk through one I hadn't experienced yet that was so beautiful and fun for the kids too. There are so many cute little houses and gorgeous big houses too. I love walking and checking out all the places to see. I love my workout center and all the little antique shops. And let's not forget St. Charles Bakery. Oh My Goodness. I need to not stop there because....
But no matter how long I live here, St. Charles will never be my hometown. Yes, I feel like I'm coming home when I turn the corner to our little cul de sac. Heck, when I cross under the overpass and see the water tower I feel like I'm home. But there is nothing like the feeling of hitting the edge of Harmony and seeing that red stone sign, good old Heco and Hahn Lumber and knowing that comfortable feeling of being where everybody knows your name. Or almost everyone. And chances are you're related to half of the city in some way shape or form.
I am the fourth or fifth generation of Kiehne's to grow up in Harmony and is is a little sad to have left it behind. While there are many days when I think about leaving my "extra" job at the Village Square behind (anyone who has waitresssed knows the kind of days I'm talking about), I do love having an excuse to make the drive "down south" and feel that sense of belonging like none other.
It seems like every time I happen to be in town I have people who ask me how the girls are, how we like St Charles, how the wedding plans are going, how my dad is doing, you name it. People who aren't just being nosy, but who are genuinely curious and who genuinely care. It is sometimes nice to have the anonymity of living here in St Charles where virtually no one knows your name. But other times it is nice to literally walk down the street and know everyone you meet and get stuck in the grocery store sharing a story and a laugh with half of them. It's all very Mayberry like and hard to explain to anyone who is from a bigger town. Even one as "big" as St. Charles.
In Harmony we know where everyone lives and half the time we don't refer to it as their house because it is remembered as the person who lived there the longest. That seems to be in classrooms too as I'm pretty sure the 3 years I was at the high school my classroom was always "Frank's old room".
We know what the specials are at which restaurants on which days and trust that they will stay the same.
We know that the Moo Mobile comes to the bank every June.
We know when the lutefisk dinner at the Lutheran church is, the meatball dinner at the Methodist church, etc... and we plan accordingly.
We readily accept that our new school colors are black, silver and teal and heartily support each and every one of our Falcons. But we also still have a secret love for maroon and white and know all the words to the old school song, "Harmony High School hats off to thee.... to our colors true we shall ever be... (although there is some debate if it is colors or scholars)".
We love going to the old Elementary school (most of us still can't call it the Community Center) and looking up our parents and/or grandparents in the old Harmony High graduation compilations.
We look forward to the 4th of July as THE weekend of the year in Harmony.
We have walked/biked the trail so many times we know when to turn back before that big hill down becomes the big hill back.
We know that Hershberger, Yoder and Schwartzentruber are the common Amish names and we know where to tell tourists to go to buy baskets, furniture and honey.
We've visited Niagara Cave and know that you need to bring a sweatshirt and a good pair of shoes.
We paid $4 for a movie ticket and a couple dollars for a bucket of popcorn and thought we were in heaven when the movie started.
We remember when the local bar was a mini mall and before that a grocery store.
We remember the last time 52 was redone and think it may be time for the "Pray for me, I drive U.S. 52" bumper stickers to make a comeback.
I could go on, but I'll let others add some of their favorites in the comments.
Like I said, I love my life, my house, my family and my new town. But my heart belongs in Harmony and I will always truly be home on Main Street.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
To spray or not to spray...
So. Today was kind of a big day. I got my first ever spray tan. Why you may ask? Well... because the only time I am outside in the sun is when I am working in my yard or working or riding my horse, I am always in a racerback tank. So I have beyond interesting tan lines and umm.. a wedding coming up in less than a month. What to do? A girl could "lay out". But this brings back too many memories of sun in, baby oil and sunburns that would rival any self respecting lobster tail being served at Joe's Crab Shack. Plus, what self respecting mom has time to lay out. The whole time I would be thinking about what needed cleaning and what I had left to do. So that was out.
I tried those sunless tanning lotions and that kind of worked, but it was so hard to reach that spot between my shoulder blades. Like impossible hard. So that wasn't going to work. I searched for tank tops that didn't have racer backs, but every self respecting sports bra for these sisters still does so that didn't help much.
What's a bride to do? I contacted my maid of honor and she had the name, number and recommendation for a spray tan location. Mind you, she hadn't been, but had heard good things. So I volunteered myself and immediately started having flashbacks to the episode of Friends where Ross gets a spray tan. If you haven't watched, please take a moment....
Friends episode: Ross gets a spray tan
So, being me, of course I asked the gal if she had ever seen "the" episode of Friends. And she laughed and quoted a few lines which of course led me to realize that I have found my soulmate. And helped eliminate a lot of my nervousness because...brace yourself... contrary to what you see in that very special episode of Friends, this is not a booth with no one else in it. The people actually spray you By hand. In person. That was freaking me out.
Now, I've had two kids. And with Libby and her 29 1/2 hours of labor (Yes Libby - I do have to bring that up and complain about it yes again), I saw every nurse, doctor and nurse in training that OMC had to offer at that time. And in a lot more compromising positions that just getting a spray tan. But... I was still freaking out. Of course the gal doing my spray tan was young, fit and quite good looking. And here I was, middle aged mom with a belly and a host of scars, well everywhere. What a woman won't do for beauty right?
So after I got the low down on scrubbing and rubbing the exfoliator off and properly disrobed and entered the booth, I was ready as I would ever be. As she was spraying me, I can't lie. I got the giggles. And it took so much self control not to burst out giggling. I was picturing the conversation that my bestie and I would have had if I had been able to drag her along. There were different positions she wanted to hold my hands, arms and legs and I couldn't help but feel that I was doing some kind of weird spray tan cheer routine. Jazz hands!
After two light coats, picture spray painting a car, I was ready for blotting and then able to get dressed and get the run down on what not to do if I didn't want to look like a blotchy monster. Been a long day of trying not to touch my arms, let my legs touch or stick to anything and trying not to sweat. But so far I'm really happy with how it turned out. We will see how horrific those tan lines look later. But the good news is that this red head isn't burnt and still looks less like the glowing white girl with freckles and zinc oxide on her nose. For a trial run, I'm going to count this a success.
I tried those sunless tanning lotions and that kind of worked, but it was so hard to reach that spot between my shoulder blades. Like impossible hard. So that wasn't going to work. I searched for tank tops that didn't have racer backs, but every self respecting sports bra for these sisters still does so that didn't help much.
What's a bride to do? I contacted my maid of honor and she had the name, number and recommendation for a spray tan location. Mind you, she hadn't been, but had heard good things. So I volunteered myself and immediately started having flashbacks to the episode of Friends where Ross gets a spray tan. If you haven't watched, please take a moment....
Friends episode: Ross gets a spray tan
So, being me, of course I asked the gal if she had ever seen "the" episode of Friends. And she laughed and quoted a few lines which of course led me to realize that I have found my soulmate. And helped eliminate a lot of my nervousness because...brace yourself... contrary to what you see in that very special episode of Friends, this is not a booth with no one else in it. The people actually spray you By hand. In person. That was freaking me out.
Now, I've had two kids. And with Libby and her 29 1/2 hours of labor (Yes Libby - I do have to bring that up and complain about it yes again), I saw every nurse, doctor and nurse in training that OMC had to offer at that time. And in a lot more compromising positions that just getting a spray tan. But... I was still freaking out. Of course the gal doing my spray tan was young, fit and quite good looking. And here I was, middle aged mom with a belly and a host of scars, well everywhere. What a woman won't do for beauty right?
So after I got the low down on scrubbing and rubbing the exfoliator off and properly disrobed and entered the booth, I was ready as I would ever be. As she was spraying me, I can't lie. I got the giggles. And it took so much self control not to burst out giggling. I was picturing the conversation that my bestie and I would have had if I had been able to drag her along. There were different positions she wanted to hold my hands, arms and legs and I couldn't help but feel that I was doing some kind of weird spray tan cheer routine. Jazz hands!
After two light coats, picture spray painting a car, I was ready for blotting and then able to get dressed and get the run down on what not to do if I didn't want to look like a blotchy monster. Been a long day of trying not to touch my arms, let my legs touch or stick to anything and trying not to sweat. But so far I'm really happy with how it turned out. We will see how horrific those tan lines look later. But the good news is that this red head isn't burnt and still looks less like the glowing white girl with freckles and zinc oxide on her nose. For a trial run, I'm going to count this a success.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
It's Grandparent time too.
Last Thursday I said goodbye to my littlest, knowing I was dropping her off to be gone for nearly 2 weeks. Wow. That sucks and the second time this year I've had to do that. Sigh. But you know what the really great thing is? The reason I had to say goodbye is because she is spending extended vacations with her grandparents. This past January she got to spend two weeks with my parents in Mexico. This week she is headed "up North" with her dad's side. What greater reason to spend the next 12 days missing her like crazy?
I love that my baby girl (and oldest if she didn't have previous commitments) gets to spend time with her grandparents. I appreciate every minute that that the girls' grandparents and aunts and uncles spend with them. Extended family and their support has been a life saver in all of our lives. It thrills me to no end that both Shannon and I allow these experiences for the girls. They are only young once and they deserve to have all of the chances given to them to enjoy all of their family. It isn't always easy to get each other to see that. But as they say, if something is worth fighting for...
It does make me angry and frustrates me to no end that some parents don't get it. They get into this fight of "my time" and "your time" and trading weekends and days. I will never get that. When will people see that it isn't your time, it's their time. And they should get to spend time with their extended family. They should get to spend time with their friends. They should get to go to camps and sleepovers and games without being given a guilt trip or being told that it isn't fair because it is "my time".
I'm super blessed that my girls have such active and involved grandparents and such a large pool of aunts, uncles and cousins who love them as much as I do. I will always do my best to make sure nothing stands in the way of that!
And... only 7 more days until Soph comes home!
I love that my baby girl (and oldest if she didn't have previous commitments) gets to spend time with her grandparents. I appreciate every minute that that the girls' grandparents and aunts and uncles spend with them. Extended family and their support has been a life saver in all of our lives. It thrills me to no end that both Shannon and I allow these experiences for the girls. They are only young once and they deserve to have all of the chances given to them to enjoy all of their family. It isn't always easy to get each other to see that. But as they say, if something is worth fighting for...
It does make me angry and frustrates me to no end that some parents don't get it. They get into this fight of "my time" and "your time" and trading weekends and days. I will never get that. When will people see that it isn't your time, it's their time. And they should get to spend time with their extended family. They should get to spend time with their friends. They should get to go to camps and sleepovers and games without being given a guilt trip or being told that it isn't fair because it is "my time".
I'm super blessed that my girls have such active and involved grandparents and such a large pool of aunts, uncles and cousins who love them as much as I do. I will always do my best to make sure nothing stands in the way of that!
And... only 7 more days until Soph comes home!
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Guilty Pleasures - My Top Ten
The other morning I was listening to the radio on the way to work and the DJs were discussing guilty pleasures. They had a list of the top movies that people considered guilty pleasures and were asking callers to guess the top three. The grand reveal listed Mama Mia at number 3, Dumb and Dumber at number 2 and Legally Blonde at number one. I was trying to think of a movie that I could list as a guilty pleasure. Which led me to ask myself what a guilty pleasure even truly is. Google says: “something, such as a movie, television program, or piece of music, that one enjoys despite feeling that it is not generally held in high regard.” Hmm…
What movies are your guilty pleasures? I don’t know if I have many. Most of the movies I love, my bestie loves too so they must be held in high regard? Maybe not critically acclaimed though. In fact, I can honestly say that if a movie wins awards it is almost guaranteed to be one I will skip watching. According to some research I have done, Bring It On falls in the guilty pleasure category and I loved that movie. And I’m sorry, but why is Hocus Pocus on that list? That is an amazing movie. Lastly, apparently I have to include The Mummy series on my guilty pleasure list. Everyone doesn’t love The Mummy? What?
After hearing everyone’s guesses the DJ’s decided to move the discussion into other guilty pleasures. And it got me thinking…
My guilty pleasures are a vast list apparently. Apparently guilty pleasures are things that you enjoy doing, but not really what you should be doing. I like to think that “should” has a loose definition. I mean, after all, who decides what we should be doing? Society? My family? God? I’m pretty sure that God is a little too busy to worry about whether I slept in on a Saturday or not so I guess society it is.
Anyway, here’s the list - in no particular order…
- Sleeping in/naps - I so rarely get to sleep past 5:30 and typically try to be up and working out by 4:15, that my idea of sleeping in is probably different than most. But I cannot wait for summer days and the prospect of laying around in bed until 8:00. I will be awake, but lying there and not having to get going sounds fabulous. And naps, I’m not talking about 15 minute dozing. I’m talking about blanket, pillow, half hour - hour long naps. LOVE!
- Pizza and candy and ice cream - I struggle and fight and battle to get my kids to eat healthier. Especially the sugar. They want sugar for everything. Sugar cereal for breakfast (who adds sugar to Raisin Bran or Frosted Flakes for Pete’s sake) and sugary snacks and sugary treats. I fight like heck to limit or remove those from the house. No pop in the fridge, just water or milk, etc… But it is all of our downfall and we do enjoy it so much. I think this is a battle we will be fighting until the end of time.
My all time favorite food is pizza. So many wonderful ways to eat pizza. People say you would get sick of a food if you had to eat it every day. Not so, not me, not pizza. For one thing, there are a lot of different ways to enjoy pizza. No need to settle for just one. So yes, even though I know it is loaded with carbs and calories - I never say no to pizza.
- Fantasizing - I love to imagine what I would do if I won the lottery. Or imagine if I bought this barn, what would I do to fix it up. Or that restaurant, what would I do if it were mine. I’m a dreamer that way. Sometimes I will drive by a place and completely redesign it in my mind by the time I get to where I’m supposed to be going.
- Crap novels and teen fiction. I love them all. There is nothing classical or award winning about most of the books that I enjoy reading. I enjoy aliens and fantasy and witches, wizards, fairies, you name it. I enjoy teen romance and ridiculously simple plots. I enjoyed House of Night. I enjoyed Fifty Shades of Gray, I enjoyed Twilight, I enjoy most historical romance (smut). And I am not sorry. I could not be reading at all. Better to read a ton of crap than nothing at all. That’s my theory. And yes - I am a reading teacher.
- Yahtzee with Friends - lots of people have their favorite online game. Mine just happens to be Yahtzee.
- Criminal Minds - I am absolutely head over heels for this show. I don’t know who it was that recommended it to me, but I owe them a hug and a kiss. The only downside is that Tim is not a fan. So I do feel a little guilty when I obsessively watch it every night. But only a very little bit.
- Cookie dough - So everyone is super excited about the new “edible” cookie dough trucks. Here’s a big secret - I already knew how to make edible cookie dough. It’s called the same dough I’ve always made and I guess I just live on the “edge” of danger. I have tried some eggless recipes. They are pretty darn good too. And we tried different mix ins. And we … yeah, let’s refer to the sugar addiction mentioned in #2. Must set a better example!
- Home alone - I know and you know that my family is my life. But one of my biggest guilty pleasures is having the house to myself. I don’t like it if it is for too long, or too late at night (things go bump in the night - I need people to protect me), but I do love an hour or two here or there to just have peace, quiet and the house to myself.
Okay - those are my top ten. If you’re feeling brave - share yours! Or at least agree with one of mine. I can’t be the only one.
Copy and Paste, or else...
Climbs up on her soapbox. Adjusts microphone. Leans on podium. Stares blankly into the crowd….
Facebook has a lot of very good qualities. There are a lot of reasons why I love Facebook. But there are a few things that are guaranteed to set me off and cause me to either shut it off or have a little vent off.
One of my biggest pet peeves are the “copy and paste” or else statuses. This is the most recent one that caused me to lose my cool “I would like to see five of my contacts copy and post this message (not sharing) the goal is to show that you are always there if someone needs to talk. And I think I know who will do that…” Oh really. So me, copying and pasting something to my Facebook status proves that I will always be there if someone needs to talk? How, pray tell does that work? That’s like saying that people going to church are always good Christians. Anyone can say and pretend to be something. It’s the people who prove it by their actions that show me.
But what really gets me is that last line. It’s that little guilt trip jab right there. Like the person who copied the status already thinks they “know” who the good and bad people on their friends list are. They already know who cares enough to be there for them so they don’t expect you to share. So hurry hurry and copy and paste it so everyone knows you aren’t one of those uncaring jerks who didn’t copy and paste. Maybe that’s what I will tell my friends the next time one of them needs me. “I can’t talk right now, but hey - I copied and pasted that status the other day so we are totally good, right?”
I wish this were the end of it. This one status was the only one of its kind. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. If you have spent any time on social media, just understand the wide range of things that you can be an uncaring, unsupportive heathen for, just by not copying and pasting. I mean, since I don’t copy and paste I hate people with cancer, I don’t believe in Jesus and I don’t care about victims of suicide. Why? Why would sharing a post or copying and pasting have anything to do with my feelings on any of those subjects? I’m totally okay with everyone posting away about all of these topics. I will probably post about these topics myself someday. But I’m not comfortable with the whole “copy and paste this or else…” mentality. Just think about that the next time you copy and paste your very own guilt trip.
Steps down off soapbox. Kicks it over...
Monday, June 5, 2017
Karma doesn't exist
Over the years as people have hurt my kids or I, others have tried to console me by saying, “Don’t worry, karma will get them.” I guess the thought is that a person can get through these tough times in the knowledge that bad things will happen to that other person too and they will get paid back for what they have done. I used to find comfort in this. I used to fully believe that when people hurt others, they would “get what was coming to them” eventually.
But here’s what I’ve realized as I’ve gotten older. Karma doesn’t exist. Some of the people who have hurt myself or my kids the most, have gotten everything they have ever wanted and are happier than you can imagine. They are financially affluent while we count pennies. They have possessions that we can only dream of. They have a slew of friends and supporters that believe the lies that they post on social media and support them. Everything seems to be going their way. And you know what….
That’s okay too. I refuse to live my life waiting on revenge. Because that is how most people think of karma. I’ve been doing a little research on karma and the true meaning behind karma is that if you do good for people, it will come back to you. (Which, by the way, I have observed many times in my lifetime.) It’s real intent is not that if someone hurts you, you wait around watching and hoping for life to kick them too. Truth is that may happen, but even if it does, how will that help you? Do you really think all your hurts, worries and concerns will go away? They don’t.
Here’s the truth about those people that you are waiting for karma to “serve”. 1. They are incredibly selfish. IF life does finally deal them the swift kick in the ass they deserve, they will not be remorseful and become changed people. More than likely it will feed their victim mentality and increase the “why do bad things happen to good people” posts. 2. They are incredibly skilled liars and the more people they can try to convince that you are all to blame for the evils in their world, the happier they will be. If you’re living a vindictive life, trying to fight back at them and sling your own mud, you only add credibility to their accusations. Let it be. You’re not going to convince those people anyway. Good people know that there are two sides to every story and will reserve judgment until they hear your side. Anyone else’s opinion isn’t worth hearing. 3. They thrive on upsetting you and making you emotional. You know the best way to deal with that? Move on. Don’t respond. They will have to go looking elsewhere to get their supply of drama and emotional upheaval. It doesn’t get any better than that.
I’ve learned a lot over the last few years and one thing I know now moving forward is that life isn’t and can’t be about revenge. The only one “hurt” by the thirst for revenge will be me. The best thing I can do is put past hurts and even new ones, behind me. I need to concentrate on being the best me I can be, for me. I need to work on building myself up, learning new things and not live my life focused on wanting bad things to happen to other people. I need to focus on my today’s and my tomorrow’s, not my yesterdays. That’s an incredibly hard thing to do sometimes. But something that is worth working on every single day.
Wednesday, May 24, 2017
Horse "rescue"
This subject has been a thorn in my side for almost as many years as I have been back in horses as an adult. So… quite a few. I’ll admit that I never really thought about it as a child. I read a ton of horse books and had horses of my own but I had a very skewed view on end of life for horses. I had this rosy view that all horses were loved by their owners, ridden or used however they saw fit and then when they couldn’t be ridden they probably passed away in their sleep under a sunny oak tree somewhere and were buried by their loving owners. I never thought about chronically lame horses, sick horses, horses that were untrainable and/or unusable in any way.
Since then, I’ve been on all sides and had experience on all ends of the spectrum. I have rescued horses from bad situations, I have adopted horses from a rescue and I have sent horses to known kill buyers. I’m sure it sounds like I am the most confused horse person on the planet, so let me explain how and where I am coming from and how my personal viewpoint has changed over the years.
When I first got back into horses as an adult, I started following horse rescues and seriously considered adopting. As many of you know from reading my blog, I’m kind of a soft hearted sucker for a sob story. And a lot of these horses have some real sob stories. I followed several different rescues and ended up adopting 2 ponies, 2 horses and 2 donkeys from rescues. Here’s my take on that situation: Both rescues had adoption contracts where they owned the animals for 5 years after adopting. Adopters had to turn in yearly vet check forms, with photos, and prove that they had been getting the horse regularly visited by farriers. If the rescue felt the horse wasn’t being taken care of properly, the equine could be repossessed. The adopter agreed to never sell said horse.
Sounds wonderful right? It’s a fairy tale. Most horse people live on a limited budget. And I would guess that most horse people want to use their horses for their personal hobby of choice; riding, driving, whatever it may be. What happens when that horse is no longer rideable and you can’t afford two horses? What happens when that horse’s vet bills start creating a strain on the monthly family budget? A person may consider selling, rehoming or putting the animal to sleep. Not when you adopt. Your only option is to return the equine to the rescue, IF they will take it back. If not, you are required to keep it and provide for its care. And if they do take it back, prepare for the barrage of hate mail from the people who can’t believe you are so cold and heartless as to want to RIDE your horse.
I also watched the two rescues I interacted with soak their “followers” (as it truly is like a cult) out of thousands of dollars each year to feed their own personal horses. People donated every spare dollar to hay drives and spring vet check drives and “we want an indoor” drives. And all the while I was thinking, maybe I should get my 501c and see if people will build me an indoor arena too? Or even just pay for the hay my horses eat all winter long? It was like watching a sinking ship and people so blinded by doing the right thing that they couldn’t even do basic math. I decided that the best thing for my family would be to return our adopted equines and wash our hands of rescues forever. It was heartbreaking and unbelievably hard to drop them back off with the rescues that were overcrowded. I watched as an older gelding I had adopted was one of many put down to “tick related illness”. Seemed to be a real epidemic at that rescue. Another older pony I had returned went from being 21 years old (according to the paperwork they gave me when I adopted him, blind and with cushings btw) to being 40 a couple years later when he was returned. Of course, 40 sounded a lot better and they were able to soak a few more people for donations for his care. His sob story was worth so much more at 40 then 23. After watching these rescues for several years, I vowed to never be sucked in by a horse rescue or horse “rescue mentality” ever again.
And it is a definite mentality. There is a large number of people that want to be seen as rescuers, heroes, saviors and they will go to great lengths to get that title and perpetuate it. I do understand. It feels great to take something that needs you and improve its life situation. It was always so rewarding to take the ponies/horses that we took in get fatter, better feet, and some training. But I never claimed to be a rescue or thought of myself as a savior.
The current way I see this happening, day after day is with a local sales barn’s “rescue page”. The owner of the sale barn is a known kill buyer but came up with a much more profitable solution that sending those unwanted horses on the long truck to Canada or Mexico. He posts select horses, donkeys and minis for sale in a “rescue” pen and offers them for sale. Often times these horses have lameness issues, are partially blind or unknown training. They do evaluate the horses to the best of their ability in a tiny pen and ride some of them before putting a description up on their website. I don’t blame this gentleman at all. He’s a smart businessman. I just can’t believe how ridiculous some of the suckers are who fall for his scheme.
He purchases these horses at rock bottom prices. Horses no one at the auctions want for some reason or another. He slaps a couple extra hundred on, puts a short description on a website and tells people they have until Friday or “OMG!” they will ship to slaughter. And the bleeding hearts come out by the thousands. Again, I don’t have a problem with it. It’s your money, or is it? You guessed it, lots of these people can’t afford the few hundred dollars it costs to “bail” out the horse. So they ask for (and get) donations. And people donate to shipping costs. And people donate to quarantine costs - because most of these horses will leave the sales barn with some sort of sickness.
Here’s what blows my mind:
- If you need a donation for a horse that costs less than $1000 (and they all cost less than $1000), you shouldn’t be buying a horse. That purchase price is just the TIP of the iceberg for you in the coming lifetime of owning a horse.
- Most of these horses need expensive vet care. I just bought a bottle of antibiotic to help our horses get over a little bug, it was not cheap. A regular farrier call for a horse with zero issues is $30 - $40 a visit. These horses need dewormer, feed, shoes, corrective work, etc… That $500 bail fee is going to be a drop in the bucket for your new “rescued” horse. Most of the people rescuing them don’t have a clue about that or even regular vet/farrier care.
- Training. A lot of these horses completely lack training and the people buying them have no clue how to go about training them. Much less handle a horse that is pushy on the ground or not handled at all. So they will hire a trainer down the road when the horse is feeling better. In the meantime they will love and hug and pet their new horsie, if they can even get close to it, and turn it into a bigger raging monster than it already was. This is evidenced by the number of posts from people on a sister Facebook page about “saved” horses.
Here people like to share their stories. Of course many of those stories, and I say stories because they are just that much fictional garbage, are that the horse must have been abused because it has a scar here or there and just looks at them with that certain scared and abused look in their eye. I tell you, some of these people have futures in reading minds because I have been around horses for well over 30 years and I’ve never seen “I’ve been abused but I know you’re here to save me and I can’t thank you enough” in my horse’s eyes. I’ve seen scared eye, pissed off eye (which we lovingly refer to as “side eye”), “you’re bringing the food and I love you eye” and relaxed eye. I must be doing it wrong.
I love that people think because a horse is scared it must have been abused. Sometimes horses are scared because, uhh… they don’t know people aren’t scary? Like why isn’t that obvious. Horses are flight animals, prey. A clinician once put it this way, “horses in flight mode can go a quarter of a mile with no thought”. Anyone who has ever been on a bolting, scared horse knows how true that is.
We recently got in an unhandled 2 year old. Unhandled, not abused. And one day I was an idiot in her stall and she got me. Struck me with her front foot on the back and calf when she was scared and felt threatened. Did I pet her and soothe her and say, “it’s okay baby?” No. I whooped her ass. Because I am boss mare and if you ever saw what a boss mare does when an uppity baby tries to establish dominance, you would know that our 2 year old got off, easy. I didn’t use my teeth and I don’t have hooves. There wasn’t a mark on her. And she wasn’t more scared of humans after. She was exactly the same EXCEPT she respected me and my space. In fact the more we work with her, and that sometimes means she gets her butt or shoulder spanked, the better she gets. No tiptoeing around her. We treat her like a horse, the big strong animal that she is, and demand respect. Which, if you know anything about horse psychology, makes her actually feel safer. Horses don’t want to be in control. They want you to be in control and be able to trust that you’ve got shit handled. When you’re all lovey dovey and hugs and kisses, they know you can’t protect them from a barn cat much less a cougar so they have to take their own safety into their own hands. That means spooking at shit and getting the hell away from anything scary. So way to go making your horse think you’re a pansy and they have to protect themselves from that Walmart bag which is of course hiding a horse eating boogie monster.
Me, being me and not knowing when to keep my mouth shut, I felt the need to finally post about it on the Facebook page. Last I looked over 220 folks either liked or loved what I had to say. Of course one lady had to remind me that a horse can be your friend. Umm… you lady, are part of the problem. Partner yes, friend no. Last time I tried to get China to sit down, watch a movie, drink wine and talk about our sex lives, it was a complete bust.
- For the love of PETE! Most of these horses in the rescue pen are not going to scary old slaughter houses. Slaughter houses do not want minis. Or donkeys. And especially not mini donkeys. You also can not ship blind horses. Or mares and foals. Or heavily pregnant mares. Or emaciated horses. There are fines, steep ones, for that kind of crap. Fines that make it so not worth it for a kill buyer. Stop being a sucker. You might as well brand a scarlet S on your forehead. Kill buyers typically won’t even BUY these horses, unless they have an avenue to dump them. So kudos to you for giving them one.
- If you are so worried about horses in these situations, get your ass to a local auction. Horses like those in the pen go through EVERY single auction at every single auction house. Get there, buy one from the seller and stop funneling more money into the pocket of the kill buyer you supposedly want to stop from taking horses to slaughter. You’re doing it wrong. Or better yet, buy one of these horses that Farmer John has been trying to sell on Facebook, Craigslist or Dreamhorse for the past year and no one would even click on his ad for the $500 yearling. But once it goes in the rescue pen and “OMG it’s going to ship by Friday”, you’ll pay $625, plus quarantine, plus a hauler and a vet check.
In conclusion, you are not rescuing a horse. You are buying a horse. If you are choosing to buy a horse, it is your responsibility to improve that horse’s chance of not ending up on a kill truck again. I have a few friends who have used the pen to get in decent horses that need a little extra work. They buy them, train them up and sell them. They are doing it right. Get that horse healthy, get it trained and do something with it. Stop telling everyone you rescued a horse. Stop telling everyone that your horse has been abused. Stop treating your horse like it has been abused. And you will be doing the right thing for you, the horse industry in general and the very horse you think you’re saving.
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