Houston, we have a problem

The Noodle. He wants some birds and he doesn't care if it's white or dark meat. And the problem is that he's the one cat intelligent enough to figure out a way to get to the birds. Take Jack for instance. This morning I found him lying in pretty much the same place as Noodle, but on his back with his legs in the air. Exactly how did he intend to catch the birds that way? Or maybe he thought he'd just flip over and wait for wild birds to come flying into his grasp instead? Jilly Bean sits quietly staring into the pen for awhile and you can almost hear the gears turning in her little head. Then she eventually gives up and goes away. Lucifer pretends to ignore the guineas. I think he's just playing hard to get. Woogie is 17 years old and afraid of his own shadow. The guineas terrify him.

After snapping the above photo, I grabbed the Noodle and tossed him unceremoniously to the ground. He have me a dirty look, a quick meow, then headed over for some comfort from his favorite buddy.




This is night four in the coop for the guineas and no loses yet. But if we do lose one, I know who to interrogate first. And it won't be dumbest groundhog in the world. Did I tell you about him? He had the IQ of a rock. I say "had" because he was dumb enough to make a home under our porch where four big dogs also call home. Well, duh. Brie took care of him. I was going to take a picture, but by the time I found the camera the only thing left of the little retard was intestines. Ewww.

Happy Guineas

One other thing we accomplished on Sunday was the temporary guinea pen outside attached to the chicken coop. Temporary, because the guineas kept escaping in the house and causing all sorts of trouble and the grand plans we have for the chicken pen will take awhile longer. They only had their one room to roam and couldn't get to the rest of the house, but they still made a mess. And they were getting too big for their cage anyway. This is the result of three hours labor on Sunday. Please don't laugh too hard.






The grand plans are started, but a long way from being completed (like most projects around here). See those 4x4 posts? That's as large as the pen is going to be, with a door on the front left corner, and netting over the whole top. The guineas will be set free once they are full grown, but we'll probably keep the chickens in the pen. I'd love to have them free range, but with all of the dogs, cats, and wildlife, the life expectancy of a free range chicken around here would be counted in days.




Aren't they cute? And they still come running over when I walk over to the pen. And yes, I still catch Jap beetles for them to eat.

Whew, what a weekend!

We made it home from Virginia around midnight Friday night. On Thursday night we stayed with my buddy Jane and found out that she has much the same problem as I do about saying NO to more animals. She has five of the cutest little ankle biters! Fiona and Nicholas were the only ones that wanted to sit still long enough for me to take pictures. Isn't Fiona just adorable???



Our short trip to Virginia was enough to remind us why we moved to West Virginia. Neither of us could wait to get out of the city! But at least we got to see some old friends and make a couple of new four-legged ones.


Saturday morning I was off and running to go get another 160 bales of hay while Glenn went to work. There were no mishaps this time and the hay made it safely into the barn. I spent the rest of the day fetching water from town for the horse troughs and catching up on the gardening. It's amazing how much harvesting needs to be done after only two days of absence! Three tomatoes, a gazillion more beans (another five pints canned), cherry tomatoes, pineapple tomatillos, hot peppers, and enough cucumbers to can nine quarts of Bread & Butter pickles last night (with more cucumbers left over for canning dills tonight!).



Sunday was house cleaning day (not that it needed it, really...) and it was also the day that we decided to get another dog. Glenn has been talking for awhile about getting another Jack Russell, or a dog small enough that he could take along as a riding buddy while he's working. I had been talking to Jamie over at the pound and she said she had a seven year old Rat Terrier for adoption. He'd been given up by his previous owner when he lost his house and had to move to an apartment. So we went to the pound to take a look and Glenn fell in love immediately. How could he not, just look at those ears! Jamie had a bit of trouble trying to get him out of the kennel for us because he was raising a fuss and trying to nip at her. This should have been our first clue that something wasn't quite right with this dog.




After picking him up at the pound we took him out to lunch at The Jug, a local dive down on the river with picnic tables and the best philly cheese steak sub in the area. He thought the steak and cheese sub was also the best and let me know by begging for more. And more. We finally said goodbye to the food and headed into town to get little doggie supplies. I just couldn't imagine him trying to eat the big dog food we have and we were also out of shampoo. The little guy stunk! The whole ride in, he rode on Glenn's lap while I drove. He was happy and content and seemed excited to be out of the kennel. When we got to the pet store he rode in the shopping cart like a pro and everyone made a lot of fuss over how cute he was. On the way home, I drove again so that he and Glenn could continue to bond. Glenn wanted to name him Rocky.

We brought him home and Rocky fell instantly in love with Heidi. Zeus and Cody just performed the obligatory butt sniff, then went off to do their own thing. Brie gave him a lot of dirty looks and threatened to bite off those ears if he crossed her. Jilly Bean hated him from the first glance and clawed his nose when he got too close. He screeched and ran into the corner to hide. He barked and tried to nip at us when we'd come close to see if he was ok. After a few minutes Glenn was able to pet him and pick him up again.

Saying good morning to Brie today.

Last night Rocky slept with me. He followed me everywhere and wouldn't let me out of his sight. Why me? He was supposed to be Glenn's dog. No no no, you have to bond with the big smelly male human, not me! So this morning as Glenn was off to work I handed Rocky over and said here, he's all yours. Go have a good day of male bonding.

Glenn called me around 9:30 to tell me how Rocky was curled up on his lap licking his fingers and generally just enjoying the ride. Great! At 10 I got another call. He had stopped to let Rocky out to pee and when he reached for the little guy to pick him up and put him back in the truck, Rocky tried to bite him. Glenn did manage to get his hands on him and put him in the truck, but now has multiple puncture wounds on his hands from being bitten so many times. Rocky then proceeded to pee and poop all over the truck! Glenn decided to let him be for a bit to see if he'd calm down. The windows were up to within a few inches of the top and there didn't seem to be any danger of him getting out. Glenn turned his back for a minute... and little Rocky was gone!

Glenn called for Rocky and looked everywhere. He was in a small neighborhood at the time and he knocked on as many doors as he could. He gave our number to the three homeowners that opened the door and they all said they'd keep an eye out for him and call if they saw him. I also called Jamie and let her know as well and she's going to call the local ACO for that area. I just hope the little guy turns up safe and sound

I need a nap or two

Jamie called me up yesterday morning and said "hey, I know a guy selling hay out of the field for $2.25 a bale, but we have to pick it up today. Interested?" $2.25 a bale? Heck yeah, sign me up! But I couldn't leave until after 4pm, which was fine because her and her husband Josh couldn't go to pick it up until after 5. So at 5:45 yesterday we were on our way down the road to load as much hay as we could between my neighbor's borrowed stock trailer and Josh's truck and car trailer. It took almost an hour to get there and we were less than amused that the guy knew we were coming, but didn't have his workers stack any of the hay. It was still lying about here and there in the fields. And let me remind you, this is West Virginia. Nothing is flat. His pastures were beautiful, but they were also incredibly hilly and usually steep. There was no way our trucks and trailers were going to be driving around back and forth on these pastures without tearing them up. So he had his guys drive around on smaller truck, load that with 50 bales or so, and bring it back to offload onto our trailers. This took forever and a day. By 8pm my stock trailer was loaded with 100 bale, the back of Josh's truck had 50, and his trailer wasn't even halfway loaded. And Mr. Hay Guy had run out of baled hay in the fields. No problem, he says. I've got a couple hundred bale in the barn that the boys put up this morning. WELL WHY THE HELL COULDN'T WE HAVE GOTTEN OUT OF THE BARN IN THE FIRST PLACE???

Josh finished loading up his trailer and boy, did he stack it high. There were probably 175 bales or so just on the trailer and they were stacked 7 bales high. But he had large cargo straps and he strapped it down good and tight. Or so he thought.

It was 11:30 or so before we got home. A mile away from our house one of the straps popped loose and Josh didn't realize it right away. This was a bad thing. Most of the trailer load ended up on the road, off steep embankments, or in the ditch. And I guarantee that at least a third of them broke. Hay was everywhere. Jamie and I took my stock trailer on to the house, dropped it off in the pasture, and got Glenn to follow us back with the Jeep and our small flat trailer in tow. We made several trips with the still intact bales and offloaded them into the barn. At this point, it was late, we were all exhausted, and two of us needed to get up very early in the morning for work. Do we leave the loose hay lying by the side of the road and just say screw it? This was the general consensus. But Jamie the slave driver said no way in hell could she get any sleep knowing we had wasted all that hay! So several more trips later and all the loose hay was cleaned up off the road and piled a mile high in our barn. At 3 in the morning Glenn and I finally moseyed down to the house for blissful 3 hours of sleep. Well, that's how much I got in anyway. He's still in bed, the lazy bum.

The biggest problem with no sleep is that we leave around noon today to make the 6-7 hour drive down to Virginia. Glenn finally has his divorce court date tomorrow morning. It's about darned time. Enough of the crazy ex-wife BS, it's time to finally wash her out of our hair! I guess my point is, since bonehead is still in bed and I'm up working with puffy eyes and continuous yawning, then he's doing all the driving!

Weekends are made for relaxing

I think I heard that from someone who didn't have a farm to take care of.

Glenn worked both days this weekend so I was on my own again. Saturday morning was spent in the kitchen turning garden goodies into winter cheer. First up was the Swiss Chard. I challenge you to find a more versatile and prettier veggie.



The leaves I canned like spinach. It looks terrible, but then so does canned spinach. I can't stand canned greens, but Glenn loves them.

The stalks I cut up into bite-sized squares and vacuum sealed for the freezer. Half the bags I blanched, the other half I just washed. I had read that frozen chard stems came out mushy, so this was an experiment. I use chard like I would celery, in the crock pot, stews, and soups - so hopefully this all comes out of the freezer tasty and crunchy this winter.

My first batch of beans for the summer. This is another veggie that I don't like and only grow for Glenn. I got 5 pint jars out of this batch. I picked another basket last night, but just blanched and froze those. I also canned 7 pints of marinated mushrooms last night -- yum (unless you're like my buddy A, who calls mushrooms 'slimy little basturds' (sic)).



I also finally blanched and froze all the kohlrabi on Saturday. I finished up in the kitchen around 10, then went up to the barn to massage some horses. Have I mentioned before that I'm a certified equine massage therapist (CEMT)? No? It's one of those things that I did years ago, but never made a business out of it. I was massaging Junior and the girls pretty regularly down in VA, but since we moved up here I haven't found much time for it. Jewel, Stride, Dolly, and Indy got done on Saturday. I still haven't started working with Jewel because she's still iffy about being caught some days. I'm still working on getting her used to the idea that nothing but good stuff happens when she's caught. Indy fell asleep during his massage. Dolly wasn't sure what was happening at first, then about 10 minutes into it her head started to drop, the lower lip began to swing, and the eyes began to close. I had done Stride before so he knew what was up and kept nickering at me the whole time I was doing Dolly. "Is it my turn yet?? Is it?? Please?"

I woke up Sunday morning and my arms were a little stiff from four hours of massaging horses. So I got out of bed, did a little stretching, then went up to the barn to put up some fence. The previous weekend we had made a trip to town to get fence posts, cement, and a one-man auger, but by the time we got started on the fence we only got four holes done before the rain hit. So I figured how hard can it be? I can handle it by myself, no problem!

My shoulders and arms still ache. I got 9 fence post holes done before my arms and back decided that enough was enough. I put the posts in, mixed up some concrete (with my bare hands -- stupid stupid stupid), and got everything lined up. I was pretty darned impressed with myself because everything ended up so straight. I'm the type of person that can't draw a straight line with a ruler, but I somehow managed to get the posts lined up. When Glenn got home I was expecting much oohing and aahing over my accomplishment. Instead I got "that's not enough concrete". After he noticed my icy stare he tried to make up for it with heaps of praise and pats on the back. Better late than never, I suppose.

The Bachelor Pad

I spent some quality time with my baby boys and Appybutt last night. I check on them every day for missing appendages and gushing blood, but usually don't have time to spend grooming, picking feet, and just scratching the itchies. So I made a point of it last night. And took a few pictures since there are parts of their pasture that you haven't seen yet. And in kindergarten Mrs. Rosenburg told me to always share.

This is the very back of their pasture. It's surrounded by woods on three sides and really very peaceful. We have about 4 acres of those woods and Glenn has grand plans to improve the deer stands back there. Oh, joy.



I really like this shot. I'm very glad I slipped in the mud and landed on my ass or else I might not have thought about taking the shot from this angle.




Just paint GOODYEAR down his side, fill him with helium and send him downwind to the nearest football stadium. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was preggers.





Do I show too many pictures of Maverick on my blog? Or am I making it too obvious that he's my pride and joy? Too bad. Cause I think he's just the cutest. But then, I also love that dorsal stripe down Hunter's back.




Did I mention that some wonderful professional volunteered to do a rescue site? And lemme tell ya, so far it's looking AWESOME! It'd probably be done by now if she weren't waiting for me to get off my butt and put some pictures and text together. Once it's done it will be linked over there on the left so you can all peruse it and let me know what you think.

A Garden Tour

I haven't posted about the garden in awhile, so here's a nickle tour of what it looks like today.








And so it begins... the great zucchini (or summer squash in this case) invasion.






No! It couldn't be! The camera washed out the color a bit, but I'll be darned if that tomato in the back is starting to color up and ripen! Go Orange Oxhearts!






In about three weeks I'll be whining about having too many ripe tomatoes and no time to process them all. So stay tuned, you know you won't want to miss that gripe fest.



These are just pics of various parts of the garden that I took today during my lunch break. After I went hunting for Jap beetles. Call me odd (wouldn't be the first time), but I really enjoy collecting Jap beetles and feeding them to the guineas. I like to get at least one or two bugs per bird so that no one feels left out. It only took two such feedings to teach the guineas that I am the coolest human monster to walk the face of the earth. When I used to go into their room they'd run to the furthest corner of their cage and pile on top of each other. Now when I open the door they all come rushing to the closest corner and chirp at me. When I put the bug bottle in they all try to jump up and snatch the beetles out of the bottle before I even have time to turn it upside down. I'm their hero.



You can't even see the tomato cages anymore. I have no idea how I'm going to harvest from some of these plants.










This is one of the few hybrids you'll ever see in my garden, and I don't even remember which type of white sweet corn I planted. I've got melons growing here and there, and my poor eggplants are in the white cone thingies.







This is Golden Bantam, a yellow shoepeg heirloom corn. This is the first year I've grown it, and so far it seems happy. Each stalk has two or three side stalks and I'm hoping I get at least one or two ears per stalk. Mmmmm... homemade creamed corn to can. I can't wait!






The plan this year was to use utility panels to support the cukes. I wasn't organized enough (am I ever) to have the panel here before the cukes started to sprawl. We got the panel last weekend and Glenn took the liberty of cutting in half for me. I had three rows. I needed it cut in thirds. I told him this when we bought the panel. It didn't matter. I could have made it work if it hadn't then proceeded to rain every evening right as I was finishing up work. Now it's too late. They're just gonna have to sprawl.






This is one very ecstatic Dill weed plant. I've been pulling leaves off it for drying for a month now. Hopefully I'll catch the seeds once they're ready and before they scatter. I wouldn't mind a few volunteers, but the seed comes in handy for dill pickles.






One of the eggplants in their cocoon. The bugs are still getting to them, but they look much better than they did before I gave them some protection. They were practically skeletonized before. Much like my cherry tree. I haven't taken a picture of it because it's so depressing. The Jap beetles have destroyed it and every leaf looks like a piece of frilly brown lace.






This is the first bed that was planted. The peas, broccoli, and kohlrabi have been harvested and pulled up and buckwheat sown in their places as a cover crop. The fuzzy stuff you see in the back on the right is Finichio Fennel. In front of that are purple and white carrots, then Healthmaster orange carrots, then the few beets that are left. On the left side of the garden is the swiss chard and a couple collard plants that haven't been totally devastated by flea beetles yet. When it comes time for the fall crop remay will be my best friend.






Sweet peppers. I'm letting the lettuce bolt so I can collect seed this year for the first time. But some of my lettuce plants are rotting before they flower. I'm not sure what's up with that, but there are still plenty of plants left so I'm not shedding any tears over it.






Mildly hot peppers - Robustinis and Anchos. Glenn's Jalapenos are in another bed.







This vine that's taking over everything is a Jelly Melon. There are only two plants there. This is my first year growing these and I'm not sure when the plants will ever stop spreading. They haven't even flowered yet! They'd better flower soon or I'm afraid I'll run out of summer to ripen them.





My Pineapple Tomatillo. I grew this for the first time last year and loved it! The little "berries" are awesome fresh, and really do remind you of a pineapple in taste. My favorite way to eat them (besides fresh!) is to freeze them and add them to a yogurt or milk protein drink. One of these days I'll get creative and make a jam or jelly out of them. Make sure you wait until they fall off the plant on their own, or else they're not very sweet. And give them plenty of space because they're bed hogs.





I hope you enjoyed the garden tour. I keep telling myself that a watched mater never ripens and I need to stay out of the garden for a few days. But I just can't. It's impossible. Because that's where I catch most of the Jap beetles for the guineas. :)

Pictures, better late than never

I know, I know. I promised them on Sunday and didn't deliver. I've just been really busy. Honest. These pictures were taken on Sunday if that's any consolation.

Classy. Didn't I tell you?? Isn't she gorgeous? I just have to keep repeating to myself that I do not need another big bay STB mare. No, no, no. What you see under her mane is a brand of some sort. Neither of her sisters have that brand.






Indy. He's still a little ribby, but this is worlds better than he was a month ago when I first saw him. And yes, I know he's dirty. And sweaty. One of these days brushes AND camera will make it to the barn together.






Indy's feet. Not so good. I'm taking off a bit here and there and should have "after" pictures by the weekend.





Glenn and his new woman, Tabby (used to be Baby). Willow is jealous, I'm just happy to be able to spread him around a bit. She still needs a few pounds, but she's put on about 100lbs since I saw her last month. And yes, Glenn is in his boxers. I told him the picture would end up on the blog and he was too close for me to really crop him out. He didn't care. So please give him hell about it. Please, for me.








Tabby's right hind ankle. I was told she kicked through the stall wall to obtain this beauty. It wasn't properly cared for and what you see here is a big ball of proud flesh. Since the wound is mostly healed and closed, there's not much to do for it now except surgery. She's sound on it, it's just unsightly.




Megalia was still pretty shy on Sunday and wouldn't let us catch her for a posed shot. Yesterday she decided humans were pretty cool and snuggled right up to me for ear scratches.



The three sisters rode roughshod over the rest of the herd on Saturday. On Sunday, I finally got a clue and wondered why I was keeping Junior, Kita, and Semi separated from everyone else. Willow had already hopped the fence last week to buddy up with Jewel and Meghan. So the gate between realms is now open. Junior is still trying to round up as many mares as he can for his harem. He's added Jewel and Meghan, Willow came back to the fold, and Dolly occasionally hangs out with them as well. Which means Stride hangs out with Juinor's group now, but usually in the back of the pack. The two men whicker to each other once in awhile to make sure things are going well.

"Hey, got any stragglers back there Stride?"

"Nope, all mares present and accounted for Sir!"

"Great! You have my permission to bite Kita in the butt if she gives you any trouble!"


Meanwhile, the three sisters and Indy have their own little thing going on. But I think Indy gets overwhelmed with too much estrogen at times, because he's starting to spend more time with Chief and Manny. The girls enjoy roaming the pastures, testing their boundaries, and standing by the strawberry patch staring at me while I work. Because they know eventually I'll get up, grab some treats, and go see them.

The Troublets as I call them. Showing off their best side.

I've reached my limit

We brought home four more horses in the rain yesterday. Yes, they were from the same rescue. All three of Dolly's daughter's: Classy, Baby, Meg, and a TB gelding named Indy. This is it until some leave. No more. The pastures are full, more hay is on the way for winter, and I've got plenty to keep me busy from now until 2028.

Baby is a 13yo dark seal bay and she's definitely the alpha mare of the three. She came home with Indy yesterday and protected him from all the other horses, even though he really didn't need protection. Today she herds around her mother and sisters and chases away any other horses that come near. Glenn fell in love with her right off the bat and proclaimed her as his new mare. "We're not adopting her out, she's MINE." Well OK then. And he's decided to name her after one of my coworkers that he likes to flirt with, Tabatha. Tabby for short. Yuck. No offense, Tab.


Classy fits her name to a T. She's a big, beautiful bay and has a ton of class. The other three loaded reluctantly on the trailer yesterday, but Classy didn't even bother to take a sniff and just marched right on. When turned out once they got here she had a huge trot, her tail was straight in the air and her head was high. She was friendly towards all the others and her reunion with her dam was like a quick peck on the cheek. She seemed very regal indeed! This morning she discovered treats and put all the royal class aside to beg for more treats like a kid in a candy store. She's also in love with Junior and nuzzles him over the fence. Semi is less than pleased.


Megalia is a 19yo bay mare. She's the only lame one out of the bunch that came home yesterday. She's got a puffy tendon that isn't sensitive to palpitation, but was making her gimp around a bit yesterday. But they'd all been locked in their stalls for about 24 hours because of the rain and she seems a lot better today. The swelling is gone and I haven't seen her gimpy at all.


A lot of people have inquired about Indy since I started taking in these horses. When I first saw him a month ago standing in his stall, dripping sweat, thin as a rail, and hanging his head in the corner I thought to myself that this is a horse that really didn't care if he lived or died. He had no interest in the humans standing outside his stall looking in and no interest in the hay a couple feet away. I didn't take him then because I was concerned that with his history of founder he'd have trouble on all the pasture I have. When I went back to look at him yesterday he had put on weight, he was inhaling his breakfast, and he was friendly and inquisitive. Surprisingly, he trotted off sound when he got off the trailer yesterday. We'll be working on those feet tomorrow!

Last Saturday saw the first ride on Meghan. Anne came over and we took Meghan and Willow out for an hour trail ride. While I was tacking up Meghan she was sweet, in my pocket, and acting like she was ready to ride. Once the bit was in her mouth she was a panic-stricken wild thing, flinging her head and trying madly to push it out with her tongue. Once I took the bridle off she was back to normal. Hmm.. she'll be going to the vet to get her teeth checked, but I believe this is probably a fear reaction from some bad experiences. I put a halter on her instead, and hooked some reins to the sides. When I was ready to mount she was also tense, wide-eyed, and acting like she was ready to explode. Once I sat down easy in the saddle and she realized I didn't have spurs, she gave a big sigh and relaxed.


She continued to impress both Anne and myself during the trail ride. She was OK in the lead or behind Willow. She didn't spook once, even though there was plenty to spook at. To get to the trails we have to ride through our neighbor's junked cars and piles of tires and she was a champ through it all. She was point and go, no hesitation, ears forward, loving every minute. Log across the trail? No worries, she found a way around it. She never took a bad step and I never had to pull her back. The whole ride was at a walk, except for a couple of very short trots here and there. Her only problem was on the way home when she was tired and didn't want to trot anymore. If I squeezed her forward she'd swing her head around and bite at my foot. She'd trot on her own if Willow got too far ahead, but she didn't want it to be my idea. And I didn't want it to be hers. So we've got that to work on still, but I think she'll be ready for adoption in no time.

Pictures of the newbies tomorrow once the camera battery is charged again.

Setting the Record Straight

It was brought to my attention over the weekend that there are some people out there on this great wide internet that have come to the conclusion that I am a horse dealer. They don't know me, other than this blog, nor did they care to know me before passing judgement. Why do they think this? Because I took on six horses from another local rescue that could no longer feed them and they can't understand why. Perhaps because they wouldn't have had the heart or means to do so? This makes me a horse dealer? Didn't all rescues start out this way... by "rescuing" horses in need? Now I could understand the horse dealer label if I had only taken six well trained and sound horses and immediately had them up for sale before even riding them. But come on people, use your brains and whatever little common sense you may have to actually consider the facts.

Out of those six horses, this is a rundown of the ones I chose to take:
1 - rideable, but has minor training issues that make her undesirable to adopters right now.
3 - old or unsound horses that I knew would be pasture ornaments.
1 - a supposedly "dangerous" mare that couldn't even be haltered when she came here
1 - a two year old that will be a pasture ornament until at least next year, and may never be rideable due to defects/old injuries on his left hind.

So are these horses that a horse dealer would have taken? Maybe so... but that dealer would have taken them straight to Sugarcreek auction and not even bothered to bring them home.

Am I a horse dealer because I'm not begging for donations? Because I'm not whining and moaning about the price of feed or hay? Or is it because here I am, all of sudden, willing to help out horses in need when the economy is so bad? How can anyone who is not a dealer do that? Is that your pathetically flawed logic?

Well let me set a few things straight for you. I have a job. A good job that allows me to work from home and afford to feed all of these horses. Glenn also has a job -- a new job that allows him to set his own hours, drive a company vehicle, and pays him much more than he was making before. We don't require donations to feed these horses and if I did have to rely on the kindness of others I never would have taken them in the first place.

I have been riding horses since I was five years old. I have ridden and trained with some very good riders over the years -- I haven't just been hacking a pony through the woods on the weekends. I have also been a working student, barn manager, trainer, and groom. I have volunteered with the HSUS, AHPA, and ERL in Virginia. Horses have been my life and somehow I have never been mistaken for a dealer. In my 31 years of owning and riding horses I have sold THREE. That's it, just three. One OTTB gelding became the best friend to a 13 yo girl in Maryland who taught him how to jump and made him a reserve champion. The other two were horses that I had bought one at a time for the man in my life and neither one worked out for him. I have given away a few rescues to good homes and still to this day get updates from the owners. Does that make me a dealer?

This will be my only response to the nitwits who call me a dealer. Unlike them, I don't have time to berate and insult others on an internet forum. I'd rather be doing something productive. Please people, get off your butts and off the internet, leave the rest of us be, and go be with your horses.