Tuning in to Warning Signs

From the horse barn in Southern California

I don’t like snakes. The last time I encountered a live rattlesnake was in 1993 on Skyline Drive in Virginia; it was gigantic - at least 3 ½ feet long - and only 2 feet away from my then-six and nine year olds. Today’s experience was less frightening, but no less of a warning.

I was grooming Jet outside the stalls, with Laurel watching eagerly for her time to get attention, ears flickering back and forth, rubbing her face against the stall door and doing an inordinate amount of snorting. This is usual behavior when Mom gets attention and daughter feels slighted.

Jet, the Mom, was calm as usual as I brushed her coat and then got the tangles out of her mane and began on her tail. She stiffened and I thought maybe she was listening to the dogs barking in the distance, or the crow cawing in the nearby trees. I ignored it and she repositioned herself, backing up a little bit. She was no longer in her relaxed pose.

Laurel kept looking over to the other side of the barn, where the hay is stored and was a little bit uneasy. Again I ignored it.

The gardener walked up to the barn and in Spanish got my attention and pointed to the floor of the barn where a rattlesnake was not more than 12 feet from us, moving toward the hay bales in the back (where, until now, I reached with bare hands three times each day. Sure enough, the horses had noticed the snake and I had not.

I was really curious and had to see it up close.  He held it down with a shove while I inspected. Beautiful markings.  It was clearly a rattlesnake, but a small one.  He used the same shovel to keep it from bothering us again.

Again in Spanish, the gardener explained that he had found “dos mucho grande” snakes at another time. Knowing I did not understand his language, he held up two fingers to indicate the number, then stretched his arms apart to indicate the size and pointed to a place in the barn behind some equipment.  I made a face that made him laugh, while all I could think about was that I will use gloves to pick up hay from now on and be more attuned to where I am putting my hands and feet.

I also made a mental note never to go to the place where the dos big ones were extracted. And, I will listen more carefully to the horses, who knew danger was at hand and were trying to tell me.

Unemployment: Unintended Consequences - Horse Sense

I was born in Kentucky. I think that is what started the horse thing for me, although I lived there for only a short time.  As a young girl, I loved horses more than any other animal.  Trigger, Flicka, Black Beauty, and Misty of Chincoteague were among my favorites. Shelves in my bedroom were filled with horse figurines of all sizes (my favorite looked like Trigger).

When I was young,  things didn't always go my way with horse opportunities:


• Despite urgent pleas to Santa, I never got a horse and I got a silly cowgirl outfit when I asked for a cowboy suit; the only good part was that I got the gun and holster.


• A relative gave me a pony that was kept on his farm in Kentucky and I lived in Florida; we saw him only once a year and he was too wild to ride.


• A girl in my fifth grade class had a horse and lived nearby. She promised she would come over to my house after school and bring her horse if I would clean out her desk; I did and waited all afternoon for her to show up. I never fell for that trick again.

• I was so excited about going to Vienna, Austria to see the Lipizzaner stallions at the Spanish Riding School. The horses contracted an illness and we only saw the building and not even a single horse. I was a gut-wrenching disappointment that was only mildly appeased by the cute horses with guards on them on our next stop in London.

Fast forward more than 30 years. I have a friend who has two horses, a 20 year old mare, Jet, and a 7 year old mare, Laurel. I am taking care of the “girls” while my friend is out of town. I finally get horses to love and care for as if they were my own. I feed them three times a day, check water, check for wounds, wash and dress wounds, wash their faces, clean up after them, exercise them and love them.

I get more feedback from these horses than I have from the resumes I have sent out the past 8 months and it is genuine and positive.  I feel good about myself.  I am learning new skills and I love to feel needed!  Their ears shoot straight up when they see me walking to the barn. They make snorting noises and nod their heads. When I get close, they nudge me and ask for treats.  And when I tell them they are gorgeous, I do believe they puff out their chests a little bit and seem pretty pleased with themselves. It’s truly a gift to have this time for giving and getting nothing but positive feedback.

Here are a few things I have learned from my four-legged friends:

• If you have hands, appreciate them. Without them you cannot swat the flies on your face, scratch your ears or wipe your eyes.
• Love your food and appreciate every bite.
• Keep an eye on the community. Take in the sights. Watch who is coming and going and hang your head out of the stall door just in case someone walks by with free hands or an orange off of the tree. Be on the lookout for mountain lions and coyotes, too.
• All hay is not the same.  Use your nose and mouth and sort the dessert out from the rest and eat the good stuff first. 

• Rolling on your back is the quintessential way to scratch. It makes you feel like a filly again and as a result you need a lot more brushing.
• Sneezing and blowing out of your nose is one way to get people to notice you– you get a reaction every time you shower them!
• When someone tells you that you are beautiful, believe them and love them back.

Thank you Jet and Laurel for giving me this opportunity to earn your love and trust! This opportunity comes at a great time for me to learn some lessons from you.