Tuesday, July 14
This is an incredible experience.  As Mona says, "You're getting to see the inner workings of a rescue."  The plan is that after the morning session, Sharon and I are going to read up on essential oils that they use on the horses so they can place an order.  Among other things, they find that Frankincense calms them and heals certain ailments.  Peppermint helps to keep flies away but does need repeated applications . . . and some of them would love to drink the stuff.  It is way too expensive for that!

Koal's assessment comes first.  Mona puts him on a lead rope and he quickly proves "naughty but not bad.  The horse is challenging you for leadership of the herd," says Mona.  "It's something horses look for."  In fact, he broke away taking Mona for a run down the arena and she had to let him go.  Then I got to see "hooking up" firsthand.  As I understand it, you put pressure on the horse, keeping him moving which is what both Mona and Sharon did approaching from either end of the ring.  Then stop.  Take off the pressure.  Drop the energy of your body language, drop your arms, breathe out, maybe step to the side without making eye contact, step back the other way.  Wait.  And you may need to do it again.  Wait.  And then it happens.  The horse who ran away from you and maybe with you, takes a few steps toward you.  And maybe a couple more.  And then he's in front of you with head lowered, maybe a nuzzle, and he let's you touch him.  He lets you clip the line on his halter.  He's made a choice.  It's a melding of personalities and acceptance.  Trust and respect.

The first time I watched Mona do this I was concerned and, unfortunately, stopped recording right when she was entering the "hook-up" phase.  I wondered if she was okay.  Was she out of breath?  She tapped her chest with her hand and lowered her head a bit.  But it was her role in their partnership.  She said with a twinkle in those blue eyes that "It felt like if Koal had a white flag that he'd wave it, not much, down low, but enough for me to see."  Then Koal stepped close and gave her a gift of trust and respect.  For now.  It's so often for now.

Mona measures him as 15.1 hands and 1010 pounds. . . weight is measured with a special tape around the girth.  My role is to write down the information onto the sheet. Given his antics, Mona is not about to take his temperature and he isn't standing too well to listen to his heart though she does hear a strong beat.  She has Sharon and I listen but I don't hear much.  Later she tells her granddaughter Lydia that Koal has "bad manners.  He's rude."  He stiffened his neck and pulled away from Mona several times.  She just couldn't hold him.  After all that, she could understand why the former owner had trouble with him.

Barn Buddies
Cheyenne & Tenaya (the Buckskin)

Once Koal was penned with hay, Mona figured she'd work with him again in the afternoon.  Now she, Sharon and I crowded into the "office" to be in shade and look at essential oil catalogs.  Cheyenne and Tenaya were next to us in their pen so we pulled grass for them that was just out of their reach.  Mona was called away and Sharon and I took it easy since she had a tough headache, likely from dehydration.  Neither of us were drinking enough water.  I massaged her head until we heard Mona yelling for us.

Three "boys" had got out where their fence was in tough shape.  The chase was on!  A volunteer has been building a fence on Sunday mornings but it's time consuming and a lot for one guy.  Lydia went out in the field and had one boy in tow and the other two were walking behind . . . not far from the barn but close to the mares' corral.  The "girls" charged their fence, maybe because some of them are in heat, and the boys spooked and bolted out to another open field.  While Mona was worried about their escape, I'm not sure I hid my joy watching three buddies gallop loose in the field.

Lydia, Sharon, and another volunteer walked out to round them up but the boys weren't having it.  They cantered back and forth and finally one horse stopped and allowed Lydia to catch him.  I offered to go out if they needed another body waving their hands but even though I've signed every legal release they have, Mona is keeping a tight rein on me.  I walked far enough down the path so I could see what was going on but mostly trying to stay out of the way and not give Mona more concern.  "Looks like they're heading in the right direction" I said as the other two were running in the general direction of the barns. "No, no," said Mona. "They're going to run into more fence."  She walked down to the field gate, calling and clapping her hands.  She says she saw them relax and come her way.  I wouldn't have called it relaxed but coming they were and still at a fast clip.  Mona yelled to me to "open the gate and be very, very careful to stay out of the way."  I ran up to the gate, unlocked it and swung it in in time to hear them neighing, hooves pounding the ground.  There's one.  There's two.  Swing that gate fast and make sure I'm on the outside.

Uh oh.  It looks like one is at Koal's pen and they're posturing.  Koal's the new kid on the block since coming back yesterday after two years away.  I was imagining a fight breaking out and shouted to Mona but number three was still out with Lydia so a few bites and kicks were not the priority as Mona told me later.  The question seems always, as with much in life, which fire is smoldering VS flaming.  The third prodigal returned home to the arena, and then the barn gate was opened for them to head to their stalls.  Mona and a couple of young volunteers went out to repair the fencing and Lydia got "the boys" settled.  So cool.  The greenhorn helped in a round-up!

The only other time I've seen horses running "freely" is in California when I was stopped along a roadside.  I saw no fence to hold them so they must have had large land to roam.  That's what I chose to believe.

Time for lunch break and Mona shows me the horse paintings that are one type of fundraiser.  Blobs of paint are placed on a canvas and then plastic laid over it and grain or some treat on top.  The horse nuzzles the treat thus moving the paint around.  A picture of the horse artist with some bio information about her is included.  Prices are on the back of the art.  We should all buy one!

Okay, lunch is over and then it's back to work.

Just another day, it's time to clean Brave Heart's sheath.  Yep, his penile sheath.  Seriously?  Again, as I understand it, if male horses were still in the wild, they'd be doing their stallion thing in a way they don't get to if they're gelded although, according to the linked article, stallions may still need attention.  I realize that kids in 4H and Pony Club learn how to do these things, so as lunch winds down I say, "So, time to clean a sheath?"  Lydia, a former Pony Clubber, grins at me.

Brave Heart is a big "blue roan" with two long black stripes on his face and two shorter ones above those.  Physically big and big in manner.  You know he's around.  If he isn't led back to his stall, he may do a fast trot down the barn aisle, passing his stall, checking things out, "Hey, I'm here," and trot back up the aisle into his stall.

Since cleaning his sheath  can be an uncomfortable process, Brave Heart is sedated.  Mona and Lydia clearly care about him and stand quietly near his head, talking to him, petting him, watching him closely as the meds take effect.  I can see the changes and once time has passed and he's in a good place, they put on clear gloves the length of their arms and start feeling for "beans" and anything that feels like it doesn't belong in the sheath.  That process takes about twenty minutes or so and judging from the repeated shakes of the glove into the pail, there was clearly stuff up there that didn't belong.  Brave Heart starts to come back to his usual self and is walked safely into his stall.

There's still work to be done with Koal and this afternoon he is so much calmer.  Lydia longes him first (that link shows a seven year old able to longe a horse and I try not to judge myself).  Besides being a knowledgeable horsewoman, Lydia is young and strong and can match Koal.  I sense Mona's pride of her granddaughter.  Mona also puts him through his groundwork and then Sharon and I each take a turn walking him through a series of obstacles so we can assess how light or heavy he feels in response.   "Like a feather," says Mona.  That means how easily he responds to our body language and I am always in tune for his body language.  I can't help feeling incredibly small with this thousand pound creature at the other end of a floppy rope and hoping that he'll put up with my ineptness in how I ask him to do some skill.  Ideally, I would feel and act confidently so that the horse is not confused by me.  Ideally.  Mostly, I'm trying to act "as if" I'm not intimidated by his size and trust that he already knows enough to deal with my clumsiness.   Mostly he bears with me and is the feather, tugging only a few times.

After the horses are cared for and the barn is closed up, Mona and I head for Shain's of Maine in Sanford and grab a yummy lobster roll and great ice cream.  We both get the "Turtle" flavor with hot fudge and caramel sauce.  We sit outside and talk some more and Mona gets telling me about her horse history which she lets me record. Then she gives me the tour, driving through Kennebunk to Kennebunkport, showing me the Bush compound on a rocky chunk of land called Walker's Point that juts out into the ocean.  Jeb recently built (crammed) yet another house on that land.  The security gate looks surprisingly low key but I imagine all kinds of action should one try to breach it.  Mona's husband used to work for the Secret Service in the first Bush era so spent a lot of time in Kennebunkport.  Mona and I have more getting-to-know-you conversation and then it's time to call it a night.

Monday, July 13
I drive onto the gravel lot and park, pull out my water bottle and snacks (yep, just like in OLP), and see Mona.  "Is that you, Eileen?" shouts Mona.  I know it's Mona because I've watched their site video and seen her white hair that stands out now in the dimness of the barn.  Up close, her sky-blue eyes remind me of the sky in Ireland behind my photo of wild fuchsia.  I decide not to mess                                               
with the locked gate and duck through the fence itself.  Mona notices and chuckles, "Couldn't figure out our lock, huh?"  I will not be the cause of any escapes.  I introduce myself to a couple of volunteers on my way in.  Mona introduces me to Sharon, a long time volunteer and an animal communicator who will be with us for the week.  Oh, this should be interesting!  I'm impressed at the openness to using alternatives which fits with the "gentling" philosophy rather than the "breaking" of a horse.  Sharon doesn't look at me so I assume she's shy or unsure of how I'll hear her described.  She tells me later that she's still learning and doesn't consider herself a professional animal communicator.  A burro or two is roaming the barn freely.  Chalupa introduces himself by trying to chew my boot and I'll come to hear a cacophony of braying from one or both of them in the next few days.

Before we get into the day, a large trailer pulls up and Mona lets us know that Charkoal has arrived.  His Massachusetts owner adopted him two years ago but has decided she can't keep him.  Contractually, adopters need to return a horse to the Rescue no matter the reason they can't keep their horse.  And what a beauty.  Charkoal, or Koal as he is known and it is spelled with a K, unloads without incident and is led easily through the gate, the barn, and into a pen in the ring.  He's my dream horse except that mine is a mare.  He stands about 15 hands high, dapple gray with black still on his rump and legs, a black mane, and a flaxen tail.

Charkoal

His owner is distraught but knows it's best for Koal.  She loves him but ran into some trouble with him and has two other horses.  A trainer she hired pronounced him fine but then he reverted back to old habits.  She thinks he was gelded too late and that stallion tendencies still hold.  Mona doesn't hold with that thinking . . .  she's seen stallions gelded much later and still be manageable.  Koal gets assessed tomorrow morning and Chris, the trainer, will check him out this week.

While the intake is going on for Koal, an SUV pulls up and a man and woman get out and talk with Mona briefly.  She let's them know that she's in the middle of the intake so puts them off for a time.  Eventually they leave because it's taking a while.  Mona feels badly on reflection that she didn't have time to talk and worries that she was abrupt.  "He was looking for a horse for his daughter and you never know who's going to walk in and be your million dollar donor."  She encourages appointments because it's a working stable run completely on volunteer care and love.  While Sharon was telling me who some of the horses are, the couple had come near us.  I thought about talking to him but felt new and out of place and what could I say to a guy about horses.  Maybe "Hi" would have been enough. 

After lunch, Mona, Sharon and I take a look at Cheyenne and Tenaya in the pen behind the barn.  Cheyenne, I'll come to learn, is a favorite of many and of the trainer Chris.  She's a special project of Sharon who has worked with her consistently.  She has a lot of fears and while we watch her, she spooks and spins in her pen.  Mona, who I know is assessing me and my capacity asks, "Based on what you just saw, on a scale of one to ten, how afraid would you say she was?"  Oh, I hate tests.   I'm thinking ten but don't want to be alarmist so say, "Well, an eight?"  She asks Sharon who also says an eight.  Mona says a ten.  Damn!  Why didn't I just come out with it and sound brilliantly in tune?  We'll be back with them later.

After lunch we work with Cheyenne and Tanaya.  Sharon opens the barn arena gate and their pen gate and I'm instructed to stand clear.  I know why when Cheyenne and Tenaya tear out of their pen and into the arena.  Cheyenne has a fear of gates likely from her original capture and being run into pens with gates slammed behind her.  If Tenaya had the same fear she's over it but follows her buddy.

It's late afternoon and I hear that it's time to "Open the gates!"  I stand out of the way near Koal's pen and watch as a small herd comes trotting ghostlike from out of the daylight, into the darker inside arena, into the barn and down the aisle, each turning into its own stall.  Creatures of habit.  Koal neighs horse to them.  Maybe he recognizes someone, maybe he's feeling territorial.  I am in awe and thrilled that I am here.

We drove to Mulligan's for lunch and again for dinner.  Decent and inexpensive.  At a red light in town, I see Mona ahead of me talking and laughing with couples on motorcycles next to her.  Clearly they know each other and laughing, they turn my way.  I wave.  Turns out they're her son and his wife and her daughter and her husband.  Mona and I get to know each other a bit more over meals and plan to meet at the barn tomorrow at 9:30.  Mona has already put in at least a twelve hour day at the barn and then spent time schmoozing with me. 

I'm so happy here.  I'm doing horse stuff.  I'm finally at horse camp and learning so much.   Thrilling!  Horses and ocean.

Ever After Mustang Rescue - 2015

I guess I need to be in the throws of adventure to write --  it's been a dry stretch. 

Sunday, July 12
Spending the night in an AirBnB "antique camper" until tomorrow when the room I've rented for the week is available.  I'll be attending a Women and Horses clinic, an extension of the Ever After Mustang Rescue's weekly workshop.  The purpose is to "see the inner workings of a rescue, and participate and follow the progress of a rescue horse through the steps of assessment, healing, handling and start the training process. Each day would build on the previous day."  There is no riding involved because many of these horses have only some handling and no riding.   And, I know there's always risk.  Having this kind of time with horses has been a fantasy for me and it's about to become real.

Area WiFi is sketchy but I come to think that it's really AT&T that's wonky so sending pictures and making calls is not reliable.  My bags thrown into the camper and my bike locked to the hitch,  I drive seven minutes to get a look at the Rescue on my way to the nearby beach.  Not a horse in sight!  Really?  Since they're "wild" mustangs,  I imagined that they'd be out in the field.  Will have to wait for morning.  On to the beach, a mere five minutes away and the first of only three sightings I'll have this week.  Normally the pull for me, this time horses will be my focus.