It’s been about six weeks since we filled our mare field to it’s maximum capacity of six.  I prefer even numbers in horse herds as a horses tend to buddy up with someone and spend their days together.

That is exactly what happened in our field.  What I find unusual is that the members of these pairings change daily.  The pecking order rarely changes.  Allie, our young Appaloosa has been trying to do a bit of social climbing, but she is pretty well stuck behind Ellie, Flair and sometimes Angel.  Not that it matters a whole lot.

Because these mares get along so well together, the separation between the levels of the pecking order is very narrow.  Ellie is undeniably the pasture boss, but many times she will stand aside at the gate and allow Flair to leave first.  This plays well for everyone when the owners go to the pasture to retrieve their horse.

I’ve been at many barns where pulling your horse out of the pasture was a chore, if not down right dangerous.  Not so with our mares.  If it isn’t close to dinner time no one even raises their head when an owner fetches a horse.  Even near dinner time it rarely requires a soft twirl of a lead rope in Ellies face to get her to back away from the gate.

Most times Flair is Ellie’s “bottom bitch.”  Flair follows about four paces behind Ellie and stands guard while she naps.  Then there are times when Flair cuts out her own herd.  When this happens the two groups are always the same.  Flair, Skye and Angel are one herd.  Ellie takes Allie and Hannah.  Then they all pair up later.

On Thursday, poor Allie couldn’t take a breath without Flair attacking her.  Yet Friday morning the two of them are happily sharing a hay feeder and Flair is shooing Angel away.

This morning the horses were broken up into their two herds with three horses each on two hay feeders.  For no reason Allie wandered over to Flair’s herd and chased Skye off the feder.  Flair pinned her ears at Allie who put her head down to ask permission which Flair promptly granted.  I guess Allie is hanging with Flair’s crew today.

Watching the dynamics of the herd, it struck me that their behavior is not all that different from a group of human adolescent females attending middle school.  Who’s hanging with the Goths?  Who’s hanging with the Emos?  Who’s in and who’s out?

Flair couldn’t care less.  All that matters to her is that she gets to eat.

Well, not terribly exciting, but since we have a happy and healthy herd here at Bella Cavallina anything out of the ordinary boredom is welcome excitement.

Yesterday afternoon Flair and I headed out on the trail with Angel and her mom, Prena.  Prena is home from school for a few weeks and we are all looking forward to riding with her and Angel for the summer.

Flair must have read the blog on changing her name because the last three rides she has been all business.  Keeping a nice pace, no balking and very little diving for grass.  Hmm.  Yesterday was no different other than the fly spray.  This is what kills me about horses.  Flair is a dead solid AQH, so short of a lion leaping onto her back she is difficult to spook.  Since it’s fly season I have been giving everyone a sprits of spray on the way out in the morning.  With nine horses that’s a lot of spritsing!  While shopping at Lowe’s for farm junk I found a small two quart garden sprayer.  It’s cool, you pump it to pressurize it and it shoots a fine mist.  It makes no noise, the coverage is light and even.  Perfect!

I put my brave little chestnut mare in the cross ties, allowed her to smell the sprayer, sprayed some mist in front of her face and just gave her time to get used to the idea.  Her reaction was dead calm.  Great!  I proceeded to spray her starting at her front feet and that was all it took.  Her reaction was to snort, scream, rear, break the cross ties and try to kick the sprayer out of my hand.  What the fu…heck!?  I suppose I’ll keep working with her because this thing is the bomb for fly spray.  You need to run out and get one ASAP.

After everyone settled down Prena and I headed for the trail.  Both mares were total professionals.  Angel, I learned, loves water, so when crossing a very small creek on a narrow trail she stopped in the middle with Flair parked up her butt and proceeded to begin happily splashing the water with both front feet.  I anticipated a roll but Prena informed me that she was only playing.  Sure enough Angel spent about five minutes drenching herself, Flair, Prena and yours truly with water.  Flair had no interest in backing up the hill out of the line of fire so we just enjoyed the bath.

We arrived at a “left or right” point.  Left was the short usual spring ride, right was crossing the big creek and a long ride.  Prena wanted long and it was a beautiful evening so long it was.  Angel balked a bit at the big creek but, much to my surprise, Flair took over and waded across the creek.  She found some deep water and I was suddenly up to my calves in the Perkiomen Creek.  Flair didn’t bat an eye as she pushed for the far shore.  Angel, having a buddy, calmly followed.

Once we were “feet dry” across the creek the two mares traded the lead as we went along for an uneventful ride.  We came to a point on the trail where the main trail forked to the left and a small, evil looking trail branched off into the trees and down a steep hill.  Prena said, “This is the trail we took last week.  I’m not sure where it comes out, but Tanya said the other way wasn’t good.”

Of course, me being the responsible adult wasn’t about to allow this college kid to drag me hither and yon through the thicket. I confidently announced that we would stick to the main trail.

Prena, being one of the nicest kids I know, simply shrugged and followed.  Again the ride continued uneventfully until we hit the end of the line.  The trail ended at the Mill Road bridge.  That’s the bridge that the state tore down because it was unsafe, but the new bridge is not yet up.  We were up the creek without a paddle, er…bridge.

Being a typical parent, I scolded Prena for listening to me and allowing us to get into this mess.  Naturally it wouldn’t be my fault.  I’m the responsible adult!

Apparently, Flair knew where she was because she turned right and headed out along the road at a rather forward pace.  She came to a small break in the guard rail allowing a hiking trail to pass down to the creek.  Without hesitation Flair dropped through the break and along the hiking trail until we hit the creek.  Angel balked a bit at a small ditch but she gathered her courage and crossed it like a trooper carrying Prena safely across.

Flair forded the creek like a pro with Angel following.  When we got to the other side Flair wanted to turn right, but I knew that the farm was to the left so I overrode the stupid mare and turned her left.  This trail brought us towards home, but ended once again at the demolished bridge on the home side of the creek.  WTF!

This was where Angel had an “Eff This!” moment and stomped up the hill, through the construction fence over the excavation rubble pile, through the “No Access” barrier and on the road to the farm.  A hungry horse has no fear!

In thirty minutes we were back at the farm.  The horses ate carrots, Prena had water and I popped a lager!  It was a great ride on great horses with great company on a beautiful spring afternoon.  All in all the perfect excuse for getting lost.

I love a ride that teaches lessons.  Flair and angel learned some confidence.  Prena learned to question authority.  I learned that some college kids and stupid mares are worth listening to from time to time!

Well, I haven’t posted much lately because the farm has been, thankfuly, rather boring.  All the horses are healthy and quiet.  There was a bit of excitement yesterday.  Allie the Appie who is just five years old decided to test her position in the herd by challenging Flair.  Flair is easy going but doesn’t tolerate any nonsense from the kids.

Flair let Allie know that she wasn’t terribly happy at Allie’s attempt at social mobility and assumed a threatening posture.  Allie made the big mistake of landing a solid kick on Flairs chest with her hind feet.  That was all it took.  Flair exploded with rage and chased that poor mare all over the pasture.  For nearly two hours, every time Allie moved she got a face full of Flair.  I’m always concerned when the mares get crazy, but it’s typically at a much lower level of aggression.  Flair has Allie in sheer strength and meanness, but Allie is much taller and has the reach.  She isn’t afraid to defend herself and her hind feet are formidable.

As it tuned out the tension levels subsided and today, and while the two mares are not grooming each other they are respecting each others space.

Lately, Skye has been doing her best to slip her confinement and head for some rich grass when she can and it brought me back to Spring 2007 when flair was just turning four.

We were still at Marty’s farm and we were down to one herd of six horses.  One of the horses, Ishy, was a thirty year old gelding and the younger geldings weren’t allowing him any forage during the day.  I was giving him extra hay in his stall at night, but it still wasn’t enough.  He and Flair got along well so I decided to move those two to their own field.

As it turned out the solution worked well.  Flair, after deciding which pile of hay she really wanted allowed Ishy to eat in peace.

The trouble started as spring progressed and the weather warmed.  Flair came into season and was not happy with the living arrangements. Flair wanted to be with her younger buddies.

Flair was a shameless opportunist with an above average IQ.  She knew nothing good would come of being wild and overpowering, besides, she stil doesn’t have it in her to be directly confrontational.  No, Flair’s modus operandi is to be totally calm and keep a watch for an opening.  I was about to get some valuable lessons in horse handling.

Flair loves food and dinner was a simple matter of leading her head into her stall then she would calmly walk into her stall and eat her grain.  One bright morning I led Flair to her stall and unclipped her halter as usual.  She calmly walked into her stall, snatched a mouthful of grain and then barreled past me through the door to freedom.  After about ten minutes of observing her antics stirring up the herd her stomach took over and she calmly strolled into her stall.

Being much more intelligent than Flair, the next day I led her fully into her stall before unclipping her halter.  This time she used her butt to sweep me into the rear corner of the stall and bolted out the door.

The day after that I was ready for her and I closed her stall door before I unclipped her.  HA!  Superior intelligence always wins.

The morning routine was always the same.  The two horses were waiting at the gate of the upper pasture.  Flair would be first and have her nose ready for haltering while Ishy stood a respectful distance away.  I would hook Flair and Ishy would wait patiently for my return.

The very next morning after I had my victory and foiled Flair’s escape attempt I walked up to the gate in the pre-dawn darkness of a March morning at 5 AM.  Flair was standing at the gate with Ishy behind.  I slipped Flair’s halter over her head and opened the gate when, to my shock and awe, Ishy picked up his head, barged through the gate and zoomed down the hill to the other herd.

Meanwhile, I was left holding a now hysterical Flair at the end of the lead rope.  The problem was, that upon closer examination the horse I was holding was Ishy!  Now while it’s true that Flair and Ishy were both chestnuts and in a crowded field it was sometimes challenging to tell them apart from a few hundred yards away, it is difficult to imagine confusing a four year old Quarter Horse with a thirty year old Thoroughbred at a range of three feet.  In my defense, it was dark, they were wearing blankets and I hadn’t had my Wawa yet.

Now, I love my horse and I probably give her too much credit for being too intelligent from time to time, but there is no way anyone will ever convince me that it was just coincidence that Flair allowed Ishy to be first on that morning.  There is not a doubt in my mind that she used the normal morning routine to her advantage and she knew exactly what she was doing when she backed off the gate and allowed Ishy to go first.

That was the last time I ever allowed my guard to drop when handling Flair.