Friday, June 22, 2012

Between Two Worlds

Luke is back in lock-down. He now only has a 24 x 24 enclosure since we gave his old place to Rowdy. He did have a 24 x 24 enclosure plus a 12 x 12 indoor stall, so he lost 144 square feet of living space. Mariah is standing along the barnyard fence to keep Luke company. Little by little his band of mares are rejoining the main herd.

Luke is one of those lost souls that is caught between two worlds but doesn't fit in to either one. He is not really a stallion but then again, he is not really a gelding. He is not really a wild horse but then again he is not really a domestic horse. It may be genetic, maybe he hears the Wild Ones whisper in his ear telling him to live by the old ways like those magnificent herd stallions which fight to the death to claim the herd as their own while running wild and free across the prairie without intervention from human beings.  Try as we may to share the joy and sorrow from our little corner of the equine rescue world, it is impossible to document all the day to day events of life here at the Triple O. Our supporters are aware that we spend all of our time, energy and money into our mission to make the world a better place.....one horse at a time. We make the horses priority number one and get extremely distressed when a  horse is living in less than ideal circumstances. Just being a horse, living among their own kind, spending their time on their own schedule is our idea of a perfect horse life....Luke has not had that luxury. After many trials and tribulations, we tried again to allow Luke the freedom of living in the main pasture with the main herd which consist of 18 horses. Here's a link to Luke's story  https://www.facebook.com/#!/notes/triple-o-ranch-equine-sanctuary/the-story-of-luke-a-blm-mustang/219570844743589. Luke's freedom lasted for only 15 days until the decision was made to put him back into lock down. We had big hopes that he would be able to live among the main herd. He's older and more mature now, so we had hoped that things would work out but that was not the case. The blame can not be placed solely on Luke's behavior. Even when he is minding his own business, the mares seek him out. Luke, in many ways, is like a rock star....no  matter where he goes, he is recognized, he draws the attention of the girls....they follow him around like groupies backstage, trailing him no matter how fast he goes, they are right behind him and gaining on him with every urgent step.

Initially, Luke fought with Samson and attempted to steal his mares. This went on for hours until both of them were exhausted. Finally, Samson took his favorite mares and left the main herd behind to choose for themselves who they would have for a leader. One by one, most of them rejoined Samson. Luke was able to steal Jewel, Cinda, Cherokee and Bella. At that point it looked like things would settle down. By the next day, Luke was fighting with Phoenix and trying to steal Glory from him. Luke was successful in taking Glory into his new herd. Before long he started stalking Mariah, who wanted nothing to due with him. He's very persistent, so he pursued her day and night until he was able to force her into submission. It was pure chaos here at the ranch for the entire 15 days that Luke was in the main pasture. This video shows Luke's behavior while trying to dominate the herd https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.a.oneal.1?ref=tn_tnmn#!/permalink.php?story_fbid=385116008211210&id=158998754134132&notif_t=share_comment 

Watching the previously calm herd live in chaos has been hard for us to do. Risking the well being of the entire herd for the benefit of one horse is something that we find difficult to justify. In our minds, this really was Luke's last chance to live in the main pasture, so we gritted our teeth and held our breath. Day after day, we'd take inventory of our situation, seeing some slight improvements but still worried about the outcome of this experiment. Every horse in the main pasture was paying a price for Luke's freedom. While some kick and bite marks are normal for horses living in a herd, these horses were getting an excessive amount of kick and bite marks as well as some cuts and scrapes. Luke, himself was taking a beating as well. Physical exhaustion was not a deterrent to stop his stallion like behavior. He was like a soldier in a war zone.....on guard 24/7/365, standing at attention and focused on every move made by his potential enemies. He had to stop and check every manure pile. He had to smell it and stomp it and then he would leave his own scent, marking his territory with either manure or urine. Even during the calm before the storm, Luke found conflict every where he went. Some of the geldings wanted to graze with Luke and his band, but being so territorial, Luke would have to chase them away. Even some of the mares that originally paid no attention to him would seek Luke out and play the flirt-squeal-chase-run game with him, which infuriated Luke's mares and caused more fighting. This type of chaos went on across 132 acres day and night. It was terrifying to hear them fight and run in the darkness. We could not see what was happening and were helpless knowing that serious injuries were likely and we wouldn't be able to intervene.

The proverbial "last-straw" was when the fighting escalated. The equine war took on characteristics of guerrilla warfare. Luke and another horse would engage in a fuss which usually escalated into a fight which lead to them giving up fighting an running from Luke. Luke doesn't chase someone in the traditional "domestic" horse way, which is ears pinned back and taking a few running steps toward them and then quitting. Luke pins his ears back, lowers his head and attacks. The others began to run from him. He'd chase them from the west pasture, to the south meadow, to the middle pasture and then on to the far east pasture. Because Luke doesn't give up, the chase would last for what seemed forever. The last straw came when the horses being chased began running into the woods. This behavior is dangerous enough in open areas, but running full blast on narrow trails through the woods compounds the dangers exponentially. We've never even seen all this land and have no idea how many dangers lurk in the darkness of the forest. Without doubt there are deep holes from dead trees and long forgotten wire from fence lines we've never discovered. These high speed chases didn't last for just a few minutes, they went on for hours/ Watching them disappear into the dark regions of deep forest made us so apprehensive and waiting and worrying for them to reappear into the open seemed like forever. On the fifteenth day of Luke's freedom he and Cheyenne became embroiled into a challenge which did not subside. He chased and chased her.....they disappeared into the forest and did not come back out for quite some time. We went to find them and as we headed to the edge of the woods, Cheyenne came flying out of the forest with Luke still in hot pursuit. I yelled at him and he stopped in his tracks. I approached him and he was drenched in sweat, foamy and steam rising from his body. He had large round sweat circles around both eyes and fresh blood oozing from his front lower leg. It was just a scrape and fortunately not a serious injury. We decided that the price of Luke's freedom was too high and that a serious injury or death was imminent unless we intervened. MyHoney came out with a halter and lead rope and lead Luke back to the barnyard. He was so wound up and out of control. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and see the sweat literally dripping from him. He look physically and emotionally exhausted but still not ready to give up. I ran ahead of them to get the heavy duty enclosure opened up for him to enter back into lock up. I hated the idea of him loosing his freedom again but couldn't allow the equine version of Russian Roulette to continue. It was just a matter of time until someone would be seriously injured and the price of freedom was getting just too high.

As soon as Luke realized he was trapped, he went ballistic. The sounds of his cries were deafening and heartbreaking all at the same time. He challenged the fencing over and over. Luke reared up and got his front legs over the 6 ft enclosure time and time again but much to his dismay, the panel did not bend to allow him to escape. Knowing if he were to get his leg caught in the rails and lose his balance he could easily break a leg, it was hard to watch him in his desperate attempt to break free from captivity. The first day or two since he returned to lock down, some of his mares stayed close by the barnyard fence line. Little by little they began wandering further and further away to rejoin the main herd. The further away they moved the more distressed he became. He spend half his time with his front legs over the top rail and the other half of the time trying to figure out how to get a better run at the rails to get over the top. He'd back up 5-10 steps and take a run at the fence. He even stood with his head down, looking behind him and using his back legs to kick at the bottom rails. He pawed the ground and stomped his feet but all to no avail. Today is his third day back in lock down and he's finally calming down somewhat. He still cries out to the main herd. He still watches their every move with extreme concentration, without batting an eye, but finally is starting to spend more time with all four hooves on the ground. He's spending more time eating hay and drinking water, which he barely did at all the first few days. We felt we had no other choice, it is our job to be the caretakers of this herd and to ensure their safety. With Luke in the main herd, every single horse here was in harm's way. The constant fighting was even putting the other horses in danger. They'd run along behind the Blind Horse Habitat and spook the blind horses which was likely to cause injuries among the blind ones as well. Luke is very people oriented, so it's doubtful that he could go back to living wild among other mustangs.. He's too wild with domestic horses to be safe in a herd.  Luke is one of those lost souls stuck in between two different worlds. He's not a wild mustang but he isn't a domestic horse either......the dilemma continues.

https://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=301007809994422&saved
One of Luke's many attempts to escape from lock-down :(

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Sleepless Nights and False Alarms

For those of you that haven't been following our Facebook page for the Triple O......let me introduce you to Sage. She arrived to the Triple O in November 2011. We intervened on her behalf because she was at risk for being sent to slaughter. Since over 100,000 American horses are shipped to slaughter across our borders north and south each year, you might be wondering why we intervened for this particular horse. Sage is a BLM mustang who was born wild and free in Wyoming. She lost her family, her friends and her freedom when the human factor entered into her life. We don't know her history yet. We don't know how many hands she's passed through since she left the wild. We don't know what types of people she has been exposed to in her "reportedly" fourteen years of life. We don't know why "someone" allowed her to be bred when she herself didn't even have a permanent home and so many horses in this country are displaced and disgraced daily. What we did know is that she was located within a hour of the ranch and she needed to be taken out of harms way and given sanctuary to spend her pregnancy. She needed somewhere safe to have her baby and be a mom. That place became the Triple O. When we learned of her dilemma, we asked our FB friends "who would or could help us help her?". That question was answered within minutes by two FB friends that spoke up and put their money where their mouth is. The sent donations that day via Pay Pal to buy Sage's ticket to safety. Dave and Karen don't know each other and they live different lives in different parts of the county. What they have in common is they want to make a difference in the lives of the precious needy ones. They took action to make things better for this wayward soul that we named Sage, for her wise all-knowing eyes and as a Mustang we wanted a name to honor her Native American background. Since sage is very important in many Native American ceremonies, the name seemed perfect for her. Dave volunteered to be Sage's sponsor until her baby is born. He sends a generous donation every month to help us give Sage everything she needs to have a comfortable pregnancy and a healthy delivery. We were told she'd have her baby in February, then February and March came and went. Now it's April and we're certain she'll be having an April baby. As rescuers we'll never breed horses so this will be the very first baby foal born at the Triple O. The excitement level is high around here with anticipation of the pitter-patter of little feet on this piece of land. We've been watching her very closely and watch for any minute change down to the smallest detail.

For the past week, I've been doing a midnight run to the barn to check on her. To scratch her chin and to watch her breathe. Yesterday we notice some subtle changes. She was a bit restless. Every once in a while she'd look back toward her flank. Her breathing was different. She wasn't in distress but she was different. She has been making a bit of a milk bag but no signs of waxing yet. I've read that only 50% of mares exhibit that sign prior to delivery, I realize that is not a fool-proof way of predicting the impending arrival of this bundle of joy. We don't want to miss the grand entrance of this precious new life and hope to be present for the birth. I said I'd go back out to the barn and sit with her. I took the midnight to 4 a.m. shift. It was a starry starry night and I put my lawn chair next to the turn out area which attaches to her stall. I thought even if it's not her time yet, it would be a good trial run to get her accustomed to having visitors in the middle of the night. I took a few fotos and visited with her. She showed every sign that I was more than welcome to spend the night with her. If I walked away, she'd follow me along the fence line and stay as close to me as space would permit. It was a still night, so quiet that you could hear your own heart beat if you listened. You would expect it to be quiet if you knew how far out in the woods we live. What you might now expect is all the "goings-ons. I had sevral feline companions but Della Rose won the spot in my lap for her nap. Mr. Bojangles, senior member of the the herd (born 5-19-1980) honored me with the job of protector while he stretched out flat on the ground and took a nap just a few feet from my chair. The coyotes were terrorizing our valley with their night run and spine-tingling serenade. At one point they were east and west of the barn at the same time. My companions didn't seem worried so I wasn't either. Lance and Luna squealed at each other from their adjoining stalls if either one of them wandered too far away. Owls hooted, frogs croaked and crickets chirped. Quiet isn't always so quiet. At 2 a.m. MyHoney came out to check on us and said he'd set his alarm for 4 a.m. to take over. I'd dosed off and when he came out a 4 a.m., my head was drowsy and full of horsey dreams. I noticed some thunder and lightening as I headed for the house to get some much needed sleep.

MyHoney's shift was from 4 a.m. til 8 a.m. As luck would have it, storms moved in and torrential rain, wind, thunder, lightening and small hail ensued. Due to the weather, he had to move the lawn chair inside the barn. He set up camp but had to move when he found that he'd parked himself under a drip in our 75 yr old barn's roof. The had to add a paper feed sack to sit on because the wind had gotten cold and unrelenting. He too had several feline companions while he was on duty. By 8 a.m. there was standing water everywhere and  it was the beginning of a dark and stormy day. Sage's mild and barely noticeable "symptoms" did not intensify or diminish, so no baby yet but it will be sometime soon. She's glad we decided to camp out with her. She's glad for the extra one-on-one attention and especially glad for the extra flakes of hay throughout the night. Today she's standing in the doorway of her stall watching the rain fall. We're tired and sleepy but very excited that soon this baby will arrive no matter how many sleepless nights and false alarms occur.It was a good practice run for the real deal and now we do know that our presence is a comfort to her and that she will welcome us as overnight guests in her stall anytime.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Musical Horses




Follow this link to more fotos of Moving Day @ The North 40  https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.317476171619722.81423.158998754134132&type=1

Today we spent the first day of the new year playing musical horses. It is not our favorite thing to do but in our world, it is necessary. While we have 132 acres of land, we only have two barns plus a number of paddocks and turn out areas. We have a large barnyard and a round pen as well. The majority of our acreage is not divided and the majority of the Triple O horses live as horses should live.......free to roam and graze as a family unit.

As you know, earlier this week, we picked up four horse that were seized by local law enforcement. Two of them are thin and two of them are emaciated. The two year old bay was a stallion and was gelded the day we went to pick him up. He is a wee bit stand-offish but not wild. He is also the one with the best body weight and his hair is in good condition. The person that had him said he is ride able.  The small bay, with the white blaze is a young stud colt, who is probably less than an old. He has some issues. He has a old knee wound. His knee is enlarged and the hair is gone off of the knee cap. We have no idea what happened to him. One of his rear hooves is very abnormally shaped. He walks on the heel and drags the toe a bit. Both of them are thin but not super skinny. The sorrel is the only mare in the group. She ranks a 2 on the body condition chart. Our vet estimated her age as being between 12-14 years old. She has a sweet personality and is very cooperative. The black gelding is a 1 on the body scale chart. He is in horrible condition and he is absolutely terrified. The was the sole survivor of a herd on 16 horses. When law enforcement arrived on the scene, there were 11 carcasses on the ground and 5 live horses. The authorities said that they had to "put down" the others except for this poor scared boy. He was seized on 12-14-2011 and we picked him up two weeks later after being request to do so by the sheriff's department. The other three came from a separate neglect case. We were offered a seven acre pasture by our neighbors as a overflow area. We are calling it the North40.  That is where we took these four horse when we picked them up on 12-28-2011. We've been going there to feed them and have allowed them a three day retreat from the stressful environment they have been in recently. For three days, the only humans they saw were us when we went to feed them and worked on getting the pens cleared out and ready to use.

Now for the game of musical horses I mentioned earlier, it is much like musical chairs, without the music or the chairs. We have to move horses around from one pen, paddock or stall to accommodate the individual needs of each one of them. The ones that are healthy can live free in the main pasture. The ones that have some kind of impairment must be managed differently. They fall into several categories, such as old, sick, lame, emaciated and blind. They require an area in which to live that meets their needs. With our numerous horses and limited facilities.....it's like a game of musical horses.....moving them from one place to another.

Remember Cindarella, a starvation case from August 2011 ? She's been rehabbed and is happy and healthy now. She's grown several inches taller as well. Cinda needed a friend so we have had the blue eyed pony, Cherokee be her stable mate. Today we loaded both of them into the trailer and drove them a quarter mile to the neighbor's 7 acre pasture. It was a scary thing for Cinda as she's not been trailered much but she was a brave girl. When we loaded her in August, she was so weak and near death that she just folded up as the deputy pushed her up into the trailer. Today she was spooky and sassy but trusted us enough to comply to our request. Cherokee loaded fairly easily as well but is not an experienced traveler either, so she had doubts about the whole process but gave in when she saw we had plenty of time and patience to accommodate her issues. We set them up in the enclosures to let them settle in and tomorrow we will release them on the 7 acres along with the two young bays. Tonight they are munching hay together and getting acquainted through the fence. Tomorrow Cinda and Cherokee start their new adventure of having a whole pasture to explore and making friends with the two young bays.

Next, I went to the back of the pasture to catch the black gelding. He's still very scared but now trusts me and was cooperative about being lead up the hill and loaded into the trailer. His eyes were as big as silver dollars and he was so scared. He would stand still completely still but was trembling so much that it was obvious from a distance. We went up to the north side of the pasture to collect the sorrel mare. She lead and loaded without a problem. It was the shortest horse transport we've ever done since it's almost right on ranch.

Arriving here, the demeanor of both horse perked up considerably once we pulled in the driveway. Almost as if sad, sick, scared horses immediately sense the presence of happy healthy horses and it cheers them up. Tonight the black gelding and the sorrel mare are in the stalls that previously belonged to Cinda and Cherokee. They have their own hay manger that is stuffed with good quality hay and their own water bucket with fresh water. Their only job is to eat drink and be merry. Watch for updates on these two....by springtime they should look stunning.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Not Gentle On My Mind

There's a song called "Gentle On My Mind" by a boyhood friend of my father. I remember us playing it on the old record player when I was a kid. Some things, actually, many things are NOT gentle on my mind. I live in a world which I do not understand. I have little hope of ever fitting into mainstream society. I can not accept things as they are and I struggle to change things to how I believe they should be. I follow a set of rules that many people never learned or have long since forgotten. I told a bold faced lie to a complete stranger today and I justified it to myself and the Great Creator by telling myself that in was for a good cause. If you've got a wee bit of time, then make yourself comfortable and I will explain what I mean by all of this.


There are many things that are NOT gentle on my mind. I'll spare you my laundry list of what I see as being wrong in the world today. I'll not go into the issues which I find to be the most worrisome which affect the human race and life on this planet as we know it. I'll narrow the focus down to a pin point of the plight of the American horses. I do not understand how we've allowed American horses to be sent Canada and Mexico to be slaughtered, for meat to be sent to Europe & Asia, to be served in upscale restaurants. That industry was BANNED in the USA almost five years ago, but we've allowed 100,000 AMERICAN horses YEARLY, to be shipped beyond our border to, excuse the pun, feed the very industry WE THE PEOPLE rejected in 2007 by banning horse slaughter. On so many levels, this is just plain wrong. I could go on for hours about WHY it is WRONG, but I'll spare you that too. I'll leave it at this: Horses are NOT a part of the American diet and WE, the USA may be held responsible for poisoning the people of Europe & Asia because American horse meat is chock full of toxins from the routine medications that horses in this country receive. I can NOT accept the way things are and I struggle to change it.  Many other aspects of our world, of our species leave me dumbfounded time and time again. There are "Causes on Facebook" that are formed and operating that have 8,000-10,000 members that are AGAINST the slaughter of American horses. I joined a few "causes" after the official petition to ban horse slaughter was started on 9-23-2011, which was exactly one week ago. Pardon me for sounding naive, but why don't those 8,000-10,000 people have their name on the petition????Why has it taken a week of tireless effort on the part of dozens, if not hundreds of people spreading the word about the petition around the clock to be able to collect only 3,000 signatures. As I said before,  I do not understand the world in which I live, it is a strange and foreign place, compared to the world I knew from my earlier days.


I can't seem to grasp the concept that all the decisions that have to be made in my life "should" be based on financial criteria. While I understand that we no longer live off the land and barter for what we need to survive, I still can't seem to get the hang of worshiping money above all things. The things I value do not have a price and are not up for the highest bidder. Mainstream society of the current era, tells us over and over that what we are missing we can attain if we have the sufficient coinage to pay the fare. I don't fit in and I'm thankful for it. The rules I follow don't fluctuate with the current market or the roller coaster ride status of the economy. They are steadfast and constantly guiding the path I choose. While financial issues effect us all, rich and poor and everyone in between, we should eventually be able to tell the difference in money and wealth. Wealth is not stored in a bank, it lives inside us and is demonstrated in how and when we draw the line on issues that cross the line of humanity.


NOW, about the lie I told today. This is the rest of the story, (as Mr Paul Harvey used to say). We received a report from a concerned citizen about another "at risk horse". It's been awhile, but we just had not been able to get over there to check on this horse. We knew it's situation wasn't good but at the same time not  yet a matter of life or death. We were told that he/she was thin but not super starved. We were told that the horse was routinely tied out to a long rope, without a halter. We were told that the water source was a 5 gallon bucket, which was often overturned and laying on the ground. With that information alone, that tells me that the horse is at risk but not yet in bad enough shape to be able to get the local law enforcement involved. So I had dreaded going over there because, there isn't really anything we can do to intervene. We loaded up this morning and drove to the place we were told about. We saw no horse. It was our intention to drive by and take fotos to document the condition of the horse so that when he/she got in worse condition we could prove that the horse was in a state of decline.......It's kinda like before and after photos except worse because, the first foto would show him/her in better shape and the next in worse shape and worse and worse, which is a very sad status to witness. We drove by and could not see the horse. We'd been told that he/she would be tied somewhere in the vicinity. At that point the plan of driving by to photograph the horse was a bust so on to Plan B. I'd seen someone in the yard when we drove by the first time, so I  decided to go knock on the door. As I walked up the driveway, I had no idea of what to do or say. Feeling a bit nervous, I knocked on the door and when they answered, I said
 <<<<here comes the LIE>>>>,
I said, I heard you have a horse for sale ????
They naturally looked at me, like they had no idea what I was talking about. So smiling my friendlest smile, and trying not to look like a out and out bold-faced liar, I asked how old is the horse ???? Is the horse here ???? And would it be possible for me to see it ???? In rapid fire sequence without taking a breath or batting an eye. They agreed to show me their horse.
We walked out behind the house and I saw her.......the horse that has NOT been gentle on my mind since her existence and less than ideal circumstances we're brought to my attention a few weeks ago. She is a 2 yr old sorrell filly with 3 white feet and a blaze face. She was standing under a grove of big oak trees. She was grazing but looked up to watch us walk toward her. I asked if she was wild ???? They said no. I asked if she kicks or bites ??? They said no. I asked if she leads??? They said yes. I asked if she loads in a trailer???? They said yes. When I ran out of typical questions a prospective buyer might ask, then I said how much would you take for her, in my best horse bartering voice. They said $250. I asked them if I could go get my camera out of the truck and get some fotos of her. They said yes. I told them we carry extra halters and asked them if we could put one on her and get that rope off her neck. They said yes. I went for the camera and the halters. We put one of our halters on her and they tied the rope to her halter. I felt immediate relief to see the rope being taken off her neck. Being tied up, I still don't like, but at least she now has a halter. I know you are angry with the owners and you are right....it is wrong. I only spent 15 minutes with them but they seemed nice enough but obviously don't know any better. When they asked me if I have horses. I said yes. They asked me how many horses do I have. I said  ALOT of horses. They asked me "how many". I answered without skipping a beat.....TWENTY FOUR. The look on their faces was one of disbelief and then they asked me "why so many".....I told the TRUTH.....I am a horse rescuer. I also told them that I have been involved with three law enforcement agencies in this county and picked up horses seized from individuals that either did not or could not provide them adequate care. I got their names and phone number and gave them my name and phone number and said maybe we could work something out on the price and would be talking to them sometime soon.  I told a bold faced lie to a complete stranger today and I justified it to myself and the Great Creator by telling myself that in was for a good cause. It's late, I should get some rest because tomorrow will arrive in about ten more minutes. Somethings, actually many things are NOT gentle on my mind, and that little red filly is one of them. She's been on my mind for weeks, now she's heavy on my heart. Good Night Sweet Susana, at least now you have a halter instead a rope tied around your neck. I don't know IF or HOW we can help you, but please know you are NOT forgotten

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Taking Chances

    The very nature of equine rescue involves taking chances. Every case is different and we never know what we're getting ourselves into. When we receive a phone call from law enforcement, the amount of information is usually limited, all we know for sure is that a horse is in trouble and we're being asked to help. On Aug 16, 2011, we picked up two horses for the local sheriff's department. The filly was estimated to be 12-18 month old and had a body scale rating of 1.5 and the gelding was 6-8 yrs old and rated a 3 on the body scale chart. We named the filly Cindarella and the gelding we named him Chance.  As we were loading them to take them to our vet, the owners told us that Chance is mean and that he would kick us. We found that Chance is not mean.....Chance is scared of people, He's obviously been mistreated, so he's smart not to trust people. We were told that the deputy roped Chance before we arrived at the location in order to be able to catch and halter him.

    After a trip to our vet, Chance settled in for the night in his new stall. Depressed and lethargic he was content to eat hay and didn't move around much. The next day we moved Chance to another stall with an adjoining turn out area. He was content to eat which he did for the next few weeks without even stopping to take a breath. Since he was fearful and distrusting of people, we were taking a chance on having problems catching him if we put him in a larger area, but we did. We have an area against the fenceline that is 25 x 100....so we moved Chance there. He wasn't hard to catch since he learned his name quickly and would "whistle" at me whenever he saw me approaching the barn. After all, I am the giver of food. I call his name, he comes running. I am able to halter him with no problem as long as I move slowly and talk to him to reassure him. Each morning he's turned out and then brought in each evening. After a few weeks, when he started feeling better, he became more restless and would be seen running and bucking and talking to the other horses over the fence. Then he began to call to the main herd when they grazed far away from him.

    He'd been living basically tied up to a flat bed trailer, most of time without food. He'd been starving and looked like he was on the edge of giving up. Now he wanted to be a member of the main herd that I call the Magnificent Dozen. Saturday morning I went to the feed store and when I returned I heard a high pitched squeal. Looking toward the south meadow, I saw Chance running for his life as the Magnificent Dozen followed in hot pursuit. When you have a dozen territorial horses on your heels you'd better be fast. We went to check how he got out and found the panels had been pushed from the outside, so he had an accomplice. We suspect Willow, who has been spotted hanging out in that area. The next few hours past and Chance decided to use his new found freedom to explore the woods and to take a dip in the pond. He knew he was taking a chance but he still wanted to join the herd. At dinner time his "new friends" became even more hostile toward him and when he was repeatedly bitten and kicked and ran off, then and only then did he decide that he wanted to return to his stall and enjoy his gourmet meal. Since then he comes in for his meals and then gets released back into the main pasture. He still wants to be a herd member. They still don't like him. He's content being able to graze in the distance and pretend it's his herd. One thing about it, if you give Chance an inch....he takes a mile so it's a good thing there's 132 acres here so he can expand his horizons and explore around until somebody in the herd decides to take a chance on him and take him under their wing. He found out real quick that you're not allowed to join the Triple O Herd without an proper invitation.