I know, I know, it’s those damn chickens again.

Any of our guests from the summer months know that I was keeping fourteen baby chickens in a pen behind my house.  They changed from tiny, adorable balls of fluff to full fledged chickens all too fast, and have since been moved into the hen house with the rest of our chickens.

It’s still pretty easy to tell the babies from the adult hens, not only do they have all their feathers, but their ‘waddles’ -or whatever those red things are on their head-are a lot paler than the adult chickens.  Also, a couple of them are from breeds we didn’t have before, and there is a slight size difference.

Well, we’ve been keeping the babies in a separate pen that is inside of the hen house, letting one out every other day, slowly introducing them to adult chicken life. With their friends left in a pen in the hen house, the babies are also more likely to come back at night after being allowed to wander the property for the first time.

But, alas, one morning shortly after moving the birds I wake up to be informed by Julie that two of our babies are missing.  I was saddened, but not shocked, the whole reason we got new babies is because things like to eat our chickens, it is the country, after all.  However, Julie also said that she couldn’t find any evidence that the babies had been attacked, no loose feathers, nothing.

So there was still hope.

It wasn’t until the next day, after smiling at the scene of two baby chickens roving through one of the pastures, that I learned what had happened.  That morning, Gary and Julie had gone to Raleigh with the kids to visit her Mom.  I received a text asking me to let the chickens out.

“But the chickens are already out,” I thought.

Turns out, the new babies had not been eaten.  No, they had decided to go on an adventure, and were living around the barn closer to the beginning of the drive way.  The Barred Rock and the Brahma Bantam stuck close together, venturing out from under the protection of the barn to peck around the horses feet.

I wondered why they chose that spot in particular to live, and when going into the pasture later, I saw them once again.  They were hiding in one of the stalls, standing next to their old pen, the one that had been behind my house.  The two little feather balls weren’t going on an adventure, they were trying to go home.

It was adorable, and a little sad, but it warmed my heart.

They have since been returned to the rest of the group, but they still wander over to the same place each day.

Little Mel-Mel riding pretty boy! Watch out Dillon, looks like someone is going to try and steal your buddy seat someday soon!

It’s been beautiful outside all day, and I’ve been so happy since I woke up at 6AM this morning.  I wish, someday, when my grandchildren ask about 9/11, I could tell them about today, not 2001.

I can remember it more clearly than any other day of the 8th grade, probably all of middle school.  Everything is still so clear, the nervousness of being at a new school, the fear for my Dad, rushing down my street clutching my Mom’s hand, looking at my skyline and seeing that black cloud hanging over downtown.

It’s strange not to be in NYC today.  To feel homesick in such a weird way.  9/11 Brought us together as a city, for 6 months we were the nicest people in the country.  But memories fade, sometimes you move to places where it’s weird to have a moment of silence at 8:46, and you don’t even think of mentioning it in the first place.

But I think it’s right to smile today.  Then again, I’ve always thought celebrating life is the right way to honor the dead.  Any who don’t agree are free to commemorate this day in their own way. I hope all of my fellow city kids have as great of a day as I did, if only to negate the day the twin towers disappeared from the sky.   However you spend today, remember what happened in 2001.

(I stole all these photo’s off of the Cooler Horsemanship FB page)

A couple weekends ago, we were lucky enough to host a trail riding training clinic.  Mary, who I’ve mentioned in past blogs, trains with the Cooler Horsemanship team, James and Cate, a couple who have dedicated their lives to working with horses.

The weekend started out with a free demo of the ways James and Cate have trained their horses.  Cate’s horse, Kleo, is simply amazing.  That horse responds to Cate in ways I didn’t know were possible, and she can ride Kleo without so much as a bridle.  Using ground work, Cate has gotten Kleo to the point where simple leg pressure is enough to direct her.  Watching Cate was a real treat, her movements during the ground work she demonstrated were so animated, so alive, that admiration welled up inside of me to the point where I got goose bumps.  She moves with such a distinct energy that horses, and people, cannot help but respond to her directions.

James’ was also a joy to watch.  He has this ability to explain complicated horse behavior in ways that make everything so clear.  Although it was rough to watch him get your horse to do exactly what he wants it to then struggle to do the same, it teaches you that there is always something to strive for.  And again, he is the trainer of the clinic, so it makes sense that he completely surpasses the level of those in the clinic (or at least the level I’m at).  As he explains his process, you find yourself engrossed in what he is saying, forgetting about how hot it is or how thirsty you are.  His ability to keep things interesting as he teaches is awesome, reminding me of the videos of other clinicians I’ve watched like Clinton Anderson and Buck.

On the first day of the clinic, Mickey and I showed up ready to go.  Or at least, I did, Mickey hollered for his buddies the whole walk to the arena and was a little confused/nervous about where all the new horses came from.  But as we started doing the ground work, using a stick and string to turn him around on his hind quarters, teaching him to back up without physical pressure and to bend his neck, he came alive.  Mickey, who has been accused of being lazy (for good reason) took to the ground work like he was born for it.  Much like his owner, he proved that he wasn’t lazy per say, but that he is an intelligent horse who hasn’t been properly challenged.  He was clearly enjoying the new tasks, and a spark of interest appeared in his soulful brown eyes.  While he didn’t always grasp what I was asking of him at first, with Cate, James and Mary’s help, we quickly began to make progress.

Mickey has the tendency to lock his neck and refuse to listen.  He goes from being extremely responsive to tiny movements from my reins to sticking his nose in the air and doing whatever he feels like.  This will happen at random, usually when I’m trying to avoid running into poison oak or attempting to get him to walk through some muck he’d rather avoid.  He’ll do it when I’m going around an obstacle in the trail, insisting that he knows the best way though the trees.  His movements become quick and hard to adjust, and I’ll end up having to back him up to go the right way.

But those neck bending exercises (there is a specific name for it that I’m forgetting) have already made a difference in negating his bad behavior.  The more responsive he becomes to those movements, the less he fights me on the trail.

One thing that really stuck with me from the demo was that you start with the lightest amount of pressure and move up from there.  Mickey also liked to play tug of war when leaving the pasture.  He’d stop, refuse to move, and I’d end up tugging uselessly, turning him to the side or making him do tight circles until he agrees to walk another ten feet.  Then he stops again.

However, after hearing what James and Cate had to say about light pressure, I’ve changed the way I lead Mickey.  Instead of tugging on his head to get him to come with me, I give him the chance to follow me without any pressure.  I was pleasantly surprised when this made an immediate difference.  He’s been following my lead so easily since the clinic, it’s amazing.

While Mickey has made leaps and bounds since coming here in April, the last month has been filled with little improvements.  I have James and Cate to thank for helping me keep moving forward with those little improvements, like leading better.  He also no longer tries to escape when I take off his halter and put on his bridle.  He’s been getting better about standing still while I mount.  This little improvements are such as joy, as it shows that he’s gaining respect for my leadership.

James and Cate’s method of steering has also helped me make progress.  They really make their desires clear to the horse by moving the hand doing the steering up the reins and keeping their unneeded hand completely relaxed.  A lot of the time, people confuse their horses by using both reins when they really should be using one.  Mickey has been responding so much better to my directions while trotting or loping since I’ve started using their method.

That afternoon, we worked on our horses responsiveness while in the saddle.  I’ve really wanted to get Mickey to respond to leg pressure, but have been struggling with the fact that he speeds up when I put pressure on one side.  Cate helped me understand that it has to do with how I was keeping steady pressure on him while moving at speed.  Instead of leaving my heels in his sides to encourage him to keep moving at a trot or lope, I needed to release that pressure as soon as he moves into the gait I want.  Since the clinic, Mickey has been picking up on the difference between what my legs are telling him.  It’s been so much fun watching him improve and improving myself.

It was also really great meeting the other participants in the clinic.  The conversations I had that weekend were great, learning how others got into horse back riding and how they’ve worked on training their mounts.  While I’m around horse people all the time, this was different in a way I can’t exactly put my finger on.  Perhaps it was because we were all dedicated to learning from James and Cate and improving our horses, I’m not sure.  Anyway, the other participants, and their horses, were so much fun to be around.  There were several paints that were absolutely gorgeous.  One was named Puzzle, because he coat looks like it’s covered in scattered puzzle pieces.

I cannot wait until the Cooler Horsemanship team has a chance to do another clinic here.  Mickey and I are ready to go whenever they return, and we’re looking forward to it.

This is so true for me.  Arriving at Shangrila, I put my progress in Gary’s hands, accepting that I was a beginner was hard.  But Gary’s encouragement and praise about my improvement lately has meant more to me because of it.  Maybe after another 1,000 hours in the saddle, I can start calling myself a cow girl again.

Today, I live in some of the most beautiful countryside I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.  Today, I spend almost all day outside, riding horses and entertaining guests.  Today, my backyard is full of grass, and most evenings a family of deer show up to munch on it.  Today, I’ve been able to save enough money to buy myself a new computer.  Today, I am happy, I am no longer in a rut.

My life has changed so much for the better.  I have a job I love, bosses I adore, horses to ride whenever I want.  I’ve created such a bond with my horse, Mickey (aka Doodle Bug), that it feels like I know what he’s thinking.  He certainly knows my mind.  I compare my previous bonds with horses and know that they were never as deep or as real as what I have with Mickey.  Bringing him from a horse that constantly threw his head, bucked and reared to a reliable mount has taught me so much.  Mickey and I have learned and grown together in ways I never knew were possible.  I feel like I’ve been given this precious gift, that Virginia has improved who I am as a person.  Recently, my friend Rudi came down from New York City for a long weekend.  He’s known me for nine years, and he can see how much this place has changed me for the better.

I’ve been able to make progress with self work I’ve struggled with for years.  I am more in control of my actions and words than I have ever been.  Growing up is hard, but I feel like more of an adult today than ever.  I’ve always wondered when exactly does a person ‘grow up,’ when will I stop feeling like a child.  The answer isn’t as easy as simply aging, I’m no more of an adult at 24 than I was at 23.  But I am more of an adult because of the responsibility and respect I’ve gained since moving here.

This way of life has changed me for the better.  It has given me the inspiration to see what this place, Shangrila, can do for others.  The after school program I’m working on starting is just the first step.  I want to share this place with the world, create an environment where others come to appreciate themselves and their families in new ways.  Where I once saw my future as becoming a talk therapist, now I want to learn about all types of alternative therapies, more than just animal assisted therapies, and use them to help people grow in the same way I have.

I want to work with the wounded warriors program, to help veterans reconnect with their families after their time abroad, serving our country.  I want to give teens and children something to be proud of, something tangible, the same way I was once proud of a fence I helped build from scratch.  I want to create jobs that will keep the young adults of this county from leaving.  I want to help individuals find the best in themselves.

Shangrila has given me the opportunity to make these things happen as well as giving me the drive to do so.  I am more focused today than I ever have been.

So consider this my open thank you note to Virginia, to South Boston, to Shangrila and to Gary and Julie for bringing me here.  Thank you, because you’ve changed me, helped me grow and constantly challenged me to be the best Casey Ravitz I can be.

Thank you, for everything.

Recently, I went to a large trail ride, the Frogsboro ride.  It was one of the few times I’ve ridden a horse simply for pleasure since arriving here.  Not that I don’t enjoy riding all the time, but there is a subtle difference between when I’m working and riding and when I’m just riding.  I went with Joyce, who was riding Harley, a Clydesdale Percheron cross, who’s two and a half years old and owned by another girl who came with us, Jessica.  I rode Joyce’s horse JW, who is still a hair taller than Harley.  Joyce and I named ourselves “Team Bubba,” since we were both on such big horses.  I mean seriously, they’re huge, and Harley is still growing.

These rides are such an experience for me.  Before I left, Gary mentioned to remember that most of the other people on the trail have way more hours in the saddle than I do.  It’s hard looking at myself as a beginner, even though in the grand scheme of things that’s what I am.  It doesn’t matter that I started riding twenty-two years ago, because I only rode sporadically for the majority of that time.  These people, on the other hand, who actually grew up owning horses, may have ridden every day for twenty-two years.  There is a difference, it’s taken me some time to accept that, but I’ve managed to get there.

Anyway, Joyce, Jessica and I rode together.  We were also with Rob and his girlfriend, Abby, although they disappeared pretty early on in the trail.  But my first glimpse at what Gary had been talking about came while watching Rob, who was being paid to ride someone’s horse on the ride, sit on said horse while it flat out jumped into the air.  This horse was bucking, rearing and jumping like a mad thing, and Rob would rock back and forth and keep riding.  Now, Mickey, who once upon a time regularly bucked, jumped and reared, has NOTHING on this horse.  Mickey is like one of those horses you put a quarter in outside of the super market compared to the horse Rob rode.  And his ability to remain calm and correct the horse astounded me.  I would have been dumped in the dirt the first time it jumped.  But Rob?  He stuck it out like the pro he is.

The second time Gary’s words came back to me was while watching someone working on getting his horse to cross a small creek.  At first, I thought the guy was a moron, because one of the common things I see is someone kicking their horse while pulling back on the reins and saying “why won’t he go over the river?”  Well, because you are telling him to stop and go at the same time!  What it took me a few minute to realize (and what I eventually got close enough to hear the guy say), was that he wasn’t having problems crossing, he was specifically trying to make his horse WALK through the creek, not JUMP it.  I’ve asked Gary a handful of times what to do to stop Mickey from jumping over certain things most of our horses walk over and he said it was something that would come from experience.  Now I see why.  While I could see what the guy was doing with his horse, I can’t simply copy it.  All I know was he was twitching his reins back and forth and his feet were doing something…  Either way, it was a skill I flat out don’t have yet, and it was really cool to watch someone who does.

There were several other examples of excellent riding, but those two stuck with me.  Jessica, Joyce and I had a blast, even though it poured down rain for the last hour or two.  I really liked getting to know Jessica, and since her and Joyce seem to be becoming good friends, I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of her in the future.  Harley did well on his first big trail ride, he was sliding around on his huge feet (they are the size of dinner plates) and apparently he wasn’t using his butt muscles enough (I am repeating Joyce here, I don’t have the skill to know something like that on my own), but he made it and no one fell off.  Jessica’s horse, whose name I’ve forgotten, was really pretty and also did well on the trail.  I had a great time on JW, he’s such a solid horse.  all in all I simply had an amazing day.  I grin thinking about it.

Usually, on the trail, I can’t just worry about my own horse, I’m in charge of everyone else’s horse too.  I watch riders, make sure their saddles aren’y slipping, that they are holding the reins right (today I had a girl drop her reins and just keep going, she didn’t even ask me to stop) and that everyone is enjoying themselves.  But on the Frogsboro ride, I was with two experienced riders who could handle everything on their own, who could actually teach me a lot (Joyce has already taught me quite a bit).  Everyone was responsible for themselves, and it really does make a difference.  Once fall rolls around I hope to end up on a few more of those big trail rides with my lady friends.  It’s so much more fun then going shopping or out to the bars, things I used to do with my friends in the city.  I wish I could grab those friends, get them to VA and stick them on the back of a horse.  I miss the people I left behind in Chicago, but I wouldn’t trade my new life here for anything.

Welcome to Virginia, where traffic may zoom to a stand still because there is a huge piece of farming equipment in front of you on the highway.  I was on the way to pick up a friend from the airport, and laughed myself silly all through the several miles I was stuck behind this thing.

So, Roo has been locked up for the guests’ good for about the past month.  He’s in with the other chickens, but in a separate enclosure so he couldn’t get out when we released the rest to wander about and do whatever chickens do.  I started to feel bad for the jerk, so the other day I let him out of isolation.

This turned out to be a bad idea.

At first, I laughed as he and the other rooster fought, jumping and cawing at each other.  Neither seemed to get the upper hand, so what was there to worry about?  Roo is the much bigger rooster, and he’s… mean.  The other rooster looks like half of his feathers have been ripped off and is way smaller.  But they seemed evenly matched.

Well, I happened to be at the right place at the right time the very next morning, when I went to get the baby chickens their breakfast.  When I arrived at the barn, I heard a ruckus followed by deep crows of pain.  Running to the chicken coop door, I swung it open, barely avoided stepping on the other chickens as they made their escape, and saw the littler rooster on top of Roo, literally trying to kill him.

I shooed off rooster number 2, carefully extracted Roo from the tight spot he’d gotten himself wedged in to, and carried him to Julie.  The poor little guy (that I hated moments earlier) was so confused and wobbly I actually had tears in my eyes.  Julie chuckled at my concern, took a few pictures (which were lost in the great iMac/iPhone debacle of 2012) and poured some peroxide on Roo’s scratches.  I placed him back in isolation, now for his own safety, and quickly worked to find him a new home.  His new owner should be coming for him soon, except I lost her number when my phone crashed.  She was looking for a new rooster anyway, so I guess everything worked out.

Despite my deep and abiding hatred for Roo, I realized that an animal in need will always tug at my heart strings.  Some things never change.