Most cases of stringhalt are associated with nerve degeneration. The specific cause this degeneration is unclear, but it might be caused by ingestion of certain plants such as vetch and sweet peas, which contain compounds that damage peripheral nerves. Australian stringhalt commonly involves groups of horses and is thought to be caused by ingestion of flatweed (Hypochoeris radica). Trauma to the dorsal hock or dorsal metatarsal regions can also cause the abnormality by damaging nerves or causing adhesions to tendons.
Some cases of stringhalt may resolve without treatment, often requiring months. Affected horses should be removed from pasture and the pasture should be inspected for toxic plants known to cause stringhalt. Sedative medications may reduce anxiety and improve the condition. A surgical procedure, which involves removing a section of one of the tendons crossing the outer portion of the hock, will bring about improvement in some cases. The prognosis for recovery from stringhalt is guarded to fair; some horses never recover from the condition regardless of treatment.
Friday, December 2, 2011
More about Stringhalt
Stringhalt is an abnormal gait that involves exaggerated flexion of one or both hock joints, resulting in a rapid elevation of the hind limb. The abnormality might be subtle--such as minor upward jerking of the hind leg, or so severe that the canon bone and fetlock are pulled violently against the horse's belly. Some severely affected horses have difficulty moving forward because of the over-flexion at every step. Signs could be exaggerated in nervous or agitated horses, or when they are backed. There is no breed or age predilection. Other syndromes that can cause somewhat similar gait abnormalities include shivers, fibrotic myopathy, intermittent upward fixation of the patella, and peripheral neuropathy (nerve degeneration) due to equine protozoal myelitis (EPM).
The Myster of Stringhalt
Veterinarian Carolyn R. Simmelink explains what is behind a condition that makes it difficult for a horse to control his hind legs.
Question: My horse Bridget, a former jumper, was 18 years old when I bought her. Within two months, I learned she had stringhalt. I gradually put her back into work and was successful in doing Introductory Level dressage before she again became lame. I had her hocks injected and later elected to have surgery performed, but the problem returned. Can you tell me more about stringhalt?
Answer: Stringhalt is a rare lameness that causes a horse to lift his hind legs higher and more rapidly than usual when he's moving. One or both hind legs may be affected, and the lameness varies from mild (just a muscle spasm) to so severe that the horse actually kicks himself in the belly when he tries to move. Conditions that make any horse's gaits more animated, such as cold weather and competing, can exacerbate the signs. There does not seem to be pain involved with the lameness, yet it is difficult to ride a horse that cannot control the actions of his hind legs.
Veterinarians don't know what causes most cases of stringhalt. We do know that the nerve controlling the lateral digital extensor muscle probably is damaged. This muscle lies on the outside of the hind leg, just above the hock, so a kick to this area is the most likely culprit. For horses with bilateral stringhalt--both hind legs are affected--a more central location of nerve damage, either in the spinal cord or brain, is likely.
Treatment is surgical and involves removing a portion of the lateral digital extensor muscle and tendon to restore a more normal gait. Without the action of the lateral digital extensor muscle, the hind leg cannot be brought forward with as much force.
I suspect that in your mare's case, the primary lesion was in the spinal cord because her stringhalt was bilateral and she had no other behavior that would suggest a brain lesion. That also would explain why surgery brought only temporary relief. I could speculate that she had trauma to her spine from her former jumping career that predisposed her to arthritis in her spine and nerve damage to her back legs that happened to develop after you purchased her. The dressage work probably kept her flexible enough until the nerve damage became too severe for her to be ridden.
Question: My horse Bridget, a former jumper, was 18 years old when I bought her. Within two months, I learned she had stringhalt. I gradually put her back into work and was successful in doing Introductory Level dressage before she again became lame. I had her hocks injected and later elected to have surgery performed, but the problem returned. Can you tell me more about stringhalt?
Answer: Stringhalt is a rare lameness that causes a horse to lift his hind legs higher and more rapidly than usual when he's moving. One or both hind legs may be affected, and the lameness varies from mild (just a muscle spasm) to so severe that the horse actually kicks himself in the belly when he tries to move. Conditions that make any horse's gaits more animated, such as cold weather and competing, can exacerbate the signs. There does not seem to be pain involved with the lameness, yet it is difficult to ride a horse that cannot control the actions of his hind legs.
Veterinarians don't know what causes most cases of stringhalt. We do know that the nerve controlling the lateral digital extensor muscle probably is damaged. This muscle lies on the outside of the hind leg, just above the hock, so a kick to this area is the most likely culprit. For horses with bilateral stringhalt--both hind legs are affected--a more central location of nerve damage, either in the spinal cord or brain, is likely.
Treatment is surgical and involves removing a portion of the lateral digital extensor muscle and tendon to restore a more normal gait. Without the action of the lateral digital extensor muscle, the hind leg cannot be brought forward with as much force.
I suspect that in your mare's case, the primary lesion was in the spinal cord because her stringhalt was bilateral and she had no other behavior that would suggest a brain lesion. That also would explain why surgery brought only temporary relief. I could speculate that she had trauma to her spine from her former jumping career that predisposed her to arthritis in her spine and nerve damage to her back legs that happened to develop after you purchased her. The dressage work probably kept her flexible enough until the nerve damage became too severe for her to be ridden.
Stringhalt - What is it?
Stringhalt is a myoclonic affliction of one or both hindlimbs seen as spasmodic overflexion of the joints. The etiology is unknown, but lesions of a peripheral neuropathy have been identified in the sciatic, peroneal, and tibial nerves. Severe forms of the condition have been attributed to lathyrism (sweet pea poisoning) in the USA and possibly to flat weed intoxication in Australia. Horses of any breed may be affected; it is rare in foals.
All degrees of hyperflexion are seen, from the mild, spasmodic lifting and grounding of the foot, to the extreme case in which the foot is drawn sharply up until it touches the belly and is then struck violently on the ground. In severe cases, there is atrophy of the lateral thigh muscles. In Australian stringhalt and lathyrism, the condition may be progressive, and the gait abnormality may become so severe that euthanasia is warranted.
Mild stringhalt may be intermittent. The signs are most obvious when the horse is sharply turned or backed. In some cases, the condition is seen only on the first few steps after moving the horse out of its stall. The signs are often less intense or even absent during warmer weather. Although it is regarded as unsoundness, stringhalt may not materially hinder the horse’s ability to work, except in severe cases when the constant concussion gives rise to secondary complications. The condition may also make the horse unsuitable for equestrian sports (eg, dressage).
Diagnosis is based on clinical signs but can be confirmed by electromyography. If the diagnosis is in doubt, the horse should be observed as it is backed out of the stall after hard work for 1-2 days. False stringhalt sometimes appears as a result of some temporary irritation to the lower pastern area or even a painful lesion in the foot. The occasional horse with momentary upward fixation of the patella may exhibit a stringhalt-like gait.
When intoxication is suspected, removal to another paddock may be all that is required. Many of these cases apparently recover spontaneously. In chronic cases, tenectomy of the lateral extensor of the digit, including removal of a portion of the muscle, has given best results. Improvement may not be evident until 2-3 wk after surgery. Prognosis after surgery is guarded—not all cases respond. This is not surprising because the condition is a distal axonopathy. Other methods of treatment include large doses of thiamine and phenytoin.
All degrees of hyperflexion are seen, from the mild, spasmodic lifting and grounding of the foot, to the extreme case in which the foot is drawn sharply up until it touches the belly and is then struck violently on the ground. In severe cases, there is atrophy of the lateral thigh muscles. In Australian stringhalt and lathyrism, the condition may be progressive, and the gait abnormality may become so severe that euthanasia is warranted.
Mild stringhalt may be intermittent. The signs are most obvious when the horse is sharply turned or backed. In some cases, the condition is seen only on the first few steps after moving the horse out of its stall. The signs are often less intense or even absent during warmer weather. Although it is regarded as unsoundness, stringhalt may not materially hinder the horse’s ability to work, except in severe cases when the constant concussion gives rise to secondary complications. The condition may also make the horse unsuitable for equestrian sports (eg, dressage).
Diagnosis is based on clinical signs but can be confirmed by electromyography. If the diagnosis is in doubt, the horse should be observed as it is backed out of the stall after hard work for 1-2 days. False stringhalt sometimes appears as a result of some temporary irritation to the lower pastern area or even a painful lesion in the foot. The occasional horse with momentary upward fixation of the patella may exhibit a stringhalt-like gait.
When intoxication is suspected, removal to another paddock may be all that is required. Many of these cases apparently recover spontaneously. In chronic cases, tenectomy of the lateral extensor of the digit, including removal of a portion of the muscle, has given best results. Improvement may not be evident until 2-3 wk after surgery. Prognosis after surgery is guarded—not all cases respond. This is not surprising because the condition is a distal axonopathy. Other methods of treatment include large doses of thiamine and phenytoin.
Buddy is here
We are glad to get this old guy - but he does have some baggage. We think he has Stringhalt. We will post an article on this disease. We have agreed to give him some time to settle in and then try some holistic treatments. Perhaps some TLC and a few prayers will be all that is needed. Monday, November 28, 2011
Awaiting "Buddy"
This great guy was donated to the Ranch Rescue program. He is 20 years old and a real gentleman. He didn't really need rescueing as much as a retirement placeing. We are so grateful to his previous owners for the opportunity to get to know our second "Budinski". Monday, May 16, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
An Old Friend Comes Home
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
A Look At Life From The Saddle
NO HOUR OF LIFE IS WASTED THAT IS SPENT IN THE SADDLE
Winston Churchill
The view from atop a loyal horse reveals the expanse of life's terrain. A cowboy can survey the height of achievement and the depth of the hardship with a keen eye and a knowing heart. Surrounded by creation, immersed in solitude and bound by an unspoken code that shapes his honor, courage, strength and faith. Thank you Lord for allowing us to saddle up on this side of heaven.
Winston Churchill
The view from atop a loyal horse reveals the expanse of life's terrain. A cowboy can survey the height of achievement and the depth of the hardship with a keen eye and a knowing heart. Surrounded by creation, immersed in solitude and bound by an unspoken code that shapes his honor, courage, strength and faith. Thank you Lord for allowing us to saddle up on this side of heaven.
Any Day Now
We are waiting for Spring to come - any day now?
We are waiting for our foals to arrive - any day now?
However with all things pretaining to this life - good things are worth waiting for! In your time Lord, in your time.
We are waiting for our foals to arrive - any day now?
However with all things pretaining to this life - good things are worth waiting for! In your time Lord, in your time.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
That Fateful Day
I was ridin' in from checkin' fence
It was gettin' sorta late
I decided to cross the ridge through the Aspen grove
A short cut to our gate
As the Bay brought me to the top
In the shadows I saw a man
He looked as if he was talkin'
By the way he moved his hands
Yet, he stood there all alone
His head pointed towards the sky
I reined the Bay up to a halt
And didn't pass him by
It was then, I realized it was Bill
An old cowhand from the ranch
I pulled the Bay up near a tree
And hid there behind a branch
In the silence I could hear him speak
I'll never forget what he had to say
Bill was talkin' man to man with God
These are the words I heard him say
Lord, he said, it's old Bill here
I know it's been quite awhile
I used to think that prayin'
Well, that prayin' just weren't my style
Somehow I've always had the notion
To pray you were askin' for favors and such
So I never got into the habit
I always seemed to have so much
Then the other day I got to thinkin'
How you've blessed me everyday
That even through the hardest times
You never once did stray
Yes Sir, you've stayed right here with me
Through all my 80 years
The words Bill were sayin'
They brought me near to tears Bill said, Lord, I haven't come to ask for favors
It's thanks I've come to say
For all the deeds you've done for me
And never once asked for pay
I, thank you Lord for this Aspen grove
For the blue up in the sky
The tall grass down in the meadow
The clear water that passes by
Thank you Lord for the mountains high
Their peaks covered a snowy white
For all the stars each night that shine
It's such a beautiful sight
The mustangs runnin' free on the range
The mavericks we gather in early spring
The Eagle soaring above my head
Lord, I thank you for everything
Thank you for all the good friends I've had
Through the years I've had quite a few
As I get older, I now understand
They were there because of you
Lord, I thank you most for my 80 years
And the few I have left to go
And Lord, thank you for lettin' me cowboy
I've truly loved it so
With that Bill mounted up, then headed off
Leavin' me...my eyes wide open to see
For until then I just took things for granted
That day...I came to believe
It's been nearly forty years now
Since Bill stood in that grove of trees
But, his words are still here with me
I hope they never leave
Like Bill, I too am so thankful
For oh so very much
And ever since that Fateful Day
Me and the Lord...we stay in touch
Woody Woodruff
It was gettin' sorta late
I decided to cross the ridge through the Aspen grove
A short cut to our gate
As the Bay brought me to the top
In the shadows I saw a man
He looked as if he was talkin'
By the way he moved his hands
Yet, he stood there all alone
His head pointed towards the sky
I reined the Bay up to a halt
And didn't pass him by
It was then, I realized it was Bill
An old cowhand from the ranch
I pulled the Bay up near a tree
And hid there behind a branch
In the silence I could hear him speak
I'll never forget what he had to say
Bill was talkin' man to man with God
These are the words I heard him say
Lord, he said, it's old Bill here
I know it's been quite awhile
I used to think that prayin'
Well, that prayin' just weren't my style
Somehow I've always had the notion
To pray you were askin' for favors and such
So I never got into the habit
I always seemed to have so much
Then the other day I got to thinkin'
How you've blessed me everyday
That even through the hardest times
You never once did stray
Yes Sir, you've stayed right here with me
Through all my 80 years
The words Bill were sayin'
They brought me near to tears Bill said, Lord, I haven't come to ask for favors
It's thanks I've come to say
For all the deeds you've done for me
And never once asked for pay
I, thank you Lord for this Aspen grove
For the blue up in the sky
The tall grass down in the meadow
The clear water that passes by
Thank you Lord for the mountains high
Their peaks covered a snowy white
For all the stars each night that shine
It's such a beautiful sight
The mustangs runnin' free on the range
The mavericks we gather in early spring
The Eagle soaring above my head
Lord, I thank you for everything
Thank you for all the good friends I've had
Through the years I've had quite a few
As I get older, I now understand
They were there because of you
Lord, I thank you most for my 80 years
And the few I have left to go
And Lord, thank you for lettin' me cowboy
I've truly loved it so
With that Bill mounted up, then headed off
Leavin' me...my eyes wide open to see
For until then I just took things for granted
That day...I came to believe
It's been nearly forty years now
Since Bill stood in that grove of trees
But, his words are still here with me
I hope they never leave
Like Bill, I too am so thankful
For oh so very much
And ever since that Fateful Day
Me and the Lord...we stay in touch
Woody Woodruff
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
To The Grandkids
I'm just an old cowboy and in the saddle I love to sit. I don't have much polish,
but it’s been said, I've got lots of spit.
The good Lord has watched over us, and we can’t complain a bit about our life.
I've worked hard near every day, just like your grandma, my beloved wife.
Someday, I’ll light out for Heaven on high, but there’s no need to cry
For I'll be riding for my Lord Jesus, high in the sky.
There are no fences in Heaven, the range is free and wide.
And the grasslands are well-watered there, on the Other Side.
Now as you grow up don’t leave it up to chance
Give the heaven’s above more than just a pass’n glance
Smile lots and always do your chores.
And think often of the grace, God has promised could be yours.
Love ya always...
but it’s been said, I've got lots of spit.
The good Lord has watched over us, and we can’t complain a bit about our life.
I've worked hard near every day, just like your grandma, my beloved wife.
Someday, I’ll light out for Heaven on high, but there’s no need to cry
For I'll be riding for my Lord Jesus, high in the sky.
There are no fences in Heaven, the range is free and wide.
And the grasslands are well-watered there, on the Other Side.
Now as you grow up don’t leave it up to chance
Give the heaven’s above more than just a pass’n glance
Smile lots and always do your chores.
And think often of the grace, God has promised could be yours.
Love ya always...
In Memory Of Herb Harfman
It's not the end of the trail for me.
I'm just heading out to the light I see.
Beyond these mountains there's a soft glow;
It's getting brighter the closer I go.
It's like the beginning of a new day.
And the trail I'm followin' leads the way.
I feel sure there's friends and family ahead.
And they've set up camp on a brand new spread.
Yes, I can hear their voices callin my name,
Sayin, Welcome Herb, sure glad you came.
This new range is special, you'll like it here.
There's grass for your horses, the streams are clear.
The cattle are gentle, and never a stampede,
And in every direction there's plenty of feed..
If your're thinkin it sounds too good to be true,
It's not cause the Boss made a promise to you.
If you'd ride for his brand, be honest and square,
He'd relieve all your pain, and remove every care.
He was mighty pleased with your life on earth,
That you did your best, and proved your worth.
So step off your horse, and tied on up,
Your freinds are all waiting to pour you a cup.
I'm just heading out to the light I see.
Beyond these mountains there's a soft glow;
It's getting brighter the closer I go.
It's like the beginning of a new day.
And the trail I'm followin' leads the way.
I feel sure there's friends and family ahead.
And they've set up camp on a brand new spread.
Yes, I can hear their voices callin my name,
Sayin, Welcome Herb, sure glad you came.
This new range is special, you'll like it here.
There's grass for your horses, the streams are clear.
The cattle are gentle, and never a stampede,
And in every direction there's plenty of feed..
If your're thinkin it sounds too good to be true,
It's not cause the Boss made a promise to you.
If you'd ride for his brand, be honest and square,
He'd relieve all your pain, and remove every care.
He was mighty pleased with your life on earth,
That you did your best, and proved your worth.
So step off your horse, and tied on up,
Your freinds are all waiting to pour you a cup.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Getting Ready for Phase Two
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Galloping Away By Mercedez Meier (10)
I believe I was born to ride. More specifically, horses are what I am talking about. I had my first horseback riding experience when I was just one year old. Unforgettably, It was on this older chocolate brown quarter horse named Bud, who loved to sip iced tea and eat black licorice. Undoubtedly, more often then not my mom would find me in my my favorite outfit, my cowgirl boots and my jean overalls, riding around on my plush, princess pony. I find horses so intriguing, exciting and majestic. Above all other animals they are definitely my favorite.
One would have to think I was born destined to be a horse fanatic as my favorite adult in the whole world is my Opa. Opa Brouwer owns a 160-acre ranch and for me it is almost a magical place. Filled with barns, hay, pastures and of course horses it has become like a second home to me. Opa and Oma own many horses and each one has their own distinct personally, my absolute favorite one was Bud. He was such a character. Unfortunately, last year Bud got cancer and was extremely old, for a horse, and he passed away. No doubt about it, it was because of the help of my Opa and that old stinker named Bud that I was able to begin ridding unassisted by the age of five. Of course by unassisted I mean, riding Bud while Bud just instinctively followed my Opa around and around the horse arena. Bud sure loved my Opa.
I know that as you grow up dreams come and go but the one for me that has held firm is my desire to run a horse ranch when I am old enough. I want to grow up to be just like my Opa. He is not only a fabulous rancher but he is also an amazing person. I hope to be able to learn and acquire more knowledge about horses and ranching so I can run the best possible ranch that I can. Right now my Opa has a horse named Sierra and he said when I am ready to start my own ranch he is going to give her to me! I am not old enough to bring this dream into reality yet but for now I will have to be satisfied with having my bedroom smothered in horse décor.
One would have to think I was born destined to be a horse fanatic as my favorite adult in the whole world is my Opa. Opa Brouwer owns a 160-acre ranch and for me it is almost a magical place. Filled with barns, hay, pastures and of course horses it has become like a second home to me. Opa and Oma own many horses and each one has their own distinct personally, my absolute favorite one was Bud. He was such a character. Unfortunately, last year Bud got cancer and was extremely old, for a horse, and he passed away. No doubt about it, it was because of the help of my Opa and that old stinker named Bud that I was able to begin ridding unassisted by the age of five. Of course by unassisted I mean, riding Bud while Bud just instinctively followed my Opa around and around the horse arena. Bud sure loved my Opa.
I know that as you grow up dreams come and go but the one for me that has held firm is my desire to run a horse ranch when I am old enough. I want to grow up to be just like my Opa. He is not only a fabulous rancher but he is also an amazing person. I hope to be able to learn and acquire more knowledge about horses and ranching so I can run the best possible ranch that I can. Right now my Opa has a horse named Sierra and he said when I am ready to start my own ranch he is going to give her to me! I am not old enough to bring this dream into reality yet but for now I will have to be satisfied with having my bedroom smothered in horse décor.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Careful What You Pray For
I stood with rope in hand staring at the calf that had gotten out of its pen. My young daughter was watching and I so wanted to make a good impression, so I prayed, “God please let me rope this calf.”
I threw the rope and sure enough my first throw was right on target. I grinned toward the house where my daughter was watching out the window. Then suddenly I was pulled into reality by the now mad 600 pound calf on the run. I ran so fast I swear I could see the soles of my boots coming over my shoulders. Up the hill, and across the hill. Through the wild rose patch and across a few logs. This calf was going full tilt and me right behind. My chest was heaving, my heart racing. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. I lost my hat and footing all about the same time. I had to do something. I heard someone yelling for help, and thought man that sounds like my voice. Then I saw my answer, a lone pine tree. Surely I could wrap the rope now stretched out for 20 feet around this tree and stop that calf dead in its tracks. I had no idea as to the amount of centrifugal force the human body can stand.
The rope around the tree did not work! It only added to my forward momentum. What to do? What to do? Suddenly like the dawning of a new day I got an idea... let go of the rope!
No sooner had my hands released the white knuckle death grip, that I stopped safely. Exhausted, but safe. Through my sweat filled eyes I spotted the calf. She too had stopped.
She gave me a “I showed you” look, dropped her head and began to graze.
Being smarter than the animal class I inched toward the end of the rope, still attached to the calf. I gingerly reached for it and within a second I was on the run again! Much to my surprise I realized we were headed right for the barn. I grinned because this time I was ready. I now had experience.
At just the right moment I let go of the rope, slammed the gate and shouted “gottcha!” When I looked toward the house my daughter had left the window, apparently bored with my misadventure. I learned several things that day; first Pride goes before the fall. Second and perhaps the most important life skill is knowing when to hold on and when to let go, what to hold on to and what to release.
I threw the rope and sure enough my first throw was right on target. I grinned toward the house where my daughter was watching out the window. Then suddenly I was pulled into reality by the now mad 600 pound calf on the run. I ran so fast I swear I could see the soles of my boots coming over my shoulders. Up the hill, and across the hill. Through the wild rose patch and across a few logs. This calf was going full tilt and me right behind. My chest was heaving, my heart racing. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. I lost my hat and footing all about the same time. I had to do something. I heard someone yelling for help, and thought man that sounds like my voice. Then I saw my answer, a lone pine tree. Surely I could wrap the rope now stretched out for 20 feet around this tree and stop that calf dead in its tracks. I had no idea as to the amount of centrifugal force the human body can stand.
The rope around the tree did not work! It only added to my forward momentum. What to do? What to do? Suddenly like the dawning of a new day I got an idea... let go of the rope!
No sooner had my hands released the white knuckle death grip, that I stopped safely. Exhausted, but safe. Through my sweat filled eyes I spotted the calf. She too had stopped.
She gave me a “I showed you” look, dropped her head and began to graze.
Being smarter than the animal class I inched toward the end of the rope, still attached to the calf. I gingerly reached for it and within a second I was on the run again! Much to my surprise I realized we were headed right for the barn. I grinned because this time I was ready. I now had experience.
At just the right moment I let go of the rope, slammed the gate and shouted “gottcha!” When I looked toward the house my daughter had left the window, apparently bored with my misadventure. I learned several things that day; first Pride goes before the fall. Second and perhaps the most important life skill is knowing when to hold on and when to let go, what to hold on to and what to release.
The Snubbing Post
Hebrews 12:1-2 Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
When I come to Cowboy Church I often wear my cowboy hat. But to be honest wearing the hat feels a little uncomfortable.
Even though I’ve owned more than fifty horses and have ridden since I was a kid I feel like a fraud.
Especially when I hang out around real old-time cowboys like Art Harfman, Lincoln Blaine or Pat Headlen.
I often wish I’d grown up on a ranch. If I’d grown up punching cows, I’d have earned the right to wear this cowboy hat.
My past experiences hold me back from being comfortable in the present. I guess we all have some baggage. So I wear my cowboy hat to church but until then… it usually hangs on a peg.
A few years back I had an experience with a young horse that I will reflect on tonight. It was a warm spring day and went out to the pasture to catch up one of our three new horses. I had chosen that day to work with a little sorrel filly. We named her “Dilemma” when we brought her home from the Auction in Armstrong. There is something to say about being careful in your choice of names.
Dilemma wasn’t much to look at, just a skinny, wild-eyed three year old. We only paid $75.00 for her, but at times I was sure it was $74.50 too much. I slipped the halter over my shoulder, attempting to hide it with my arm as I walked toward the pasture, but the horses spotted it and galloped to the other side.
This was the hardest part of the job - trying to separate one of the skittish creatures in a five-acre field. If I’d grown up on a ranch, I would’ve learned to rope.
I chased after the animals, huffing and puffing as I zig and zagged. Sweat rolled down my back. One-by-one I let them out into the training area. Now I pushed them all back out until only Dilemma stood in the corner. Snorting, her eyes brimmed with fear. I looked at the ground, lowered my voice, and spoke slowly, “Good girl. You’re ok.” It took about twenty minutes and I finally got her into a 10 x 10 pen.
For the next half hour I’d take slow steps toward her, talking, watching her squirm, then taking a step back as I let her get used to me. She wanted no part of me. Her experience with us humans was limited to being separated from her herd, roped and penned, pushed into a trailer, shipped with a bunch of meat horses and dropped off at the auction.
My roping attempts just made her mad. So I gently pushed her into a corner where I had placed another panel to act as a squeeze. Slowly I brought the panel into place and squeezed her in so she could not hurt herself or me. As I touched her neck and shoulder her eyes were big and wide. Finally, she let me rub her neck with the rope. After a bit I placed the rope halter over her head and tied the knot. She stood like that for a bit. Hesitantly I released the squeeze and tried to lead her.
She wasn’t liking any of this. I took a deep breath and led her toward the round pen. She pulled back and swung her head back and forth. At that moment, I’d of paid someone to take herd improver of my hands. Changing my mind on the pen I tied her to the snubbing post.
Our snubbing post was, notice I said was? a five-foot-tall post firmly planted in the ground. An old inner tube acted as a give and take mechanism. Letting the post do it’s job I went for a coffee.
Suddenly she jumped straight into the air. She came down snorting and blowing, the whites of her eyes showing. I watched in shock. White flecks of foamed sweat flew in all directions.
Dilemma jumped forward and slammed into the snubbing post. It cracked. She hauled back again. Then she dug in with her hind legs, pulling backward. Her hind muscles tensed, the rope stretched—the inner tube strained to the max held tight—the rope halter tightened and then Crack! The snubbing post snapped, and the top of it whipped into Dilemma’s chest.
She swung around, the broken post, held fast by the inner tube and lead rope, slamming into her hindquarters. The dogs started barking and giving chase. The other horses in the pasture started running and bucking. What a zoo!
Dilemma in hysterics bolted down our mile long lane-way and turned on to an old logging road we called “Wood Cutter’s trail. She took that turn like she was rounding the last turn at the Kentucky Derby. Rocks and dust flying everywhere.
I ran to the pickup, got in, and fired it up. I followed that cloud of dust. Several miles later where the logging road had petered out in a bunch of Jack Pine there was Dilemma. White lather blanketed her from head to hoof. She stood calmly, munching grass. Next to her was the snubbing post, still securely tied to the rope.
She’d spooked because of her past experiences. The harder she ran from it, the harder the post beat her. When she quit running, she discovered that the post quit beating her. So instead of running from it, now she used it as a starting place.
Luke 9:62 No man, having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.
As long as that horse’s mind set was back in the past she would be useless in the present. Tonight I’m taking Dilemma’s lesson to heart. I’m going to quit beating myself up with past experiences. I must learn that a person can focus so much on what did or didn’t happen in the past that it negatively affects your present state of being. Therefore I will proudly wear my cowboy hat even though I haven’t been raised on a ranch.
Each time I help a my old-time cowboy friends moving their cattle, I earn the right to wear my hat.
Each time I help Art with butchering or drive him crazy with questions about the cowboy lifestyle, I earn the right to think of myself as a cowboy.
I will use my past experiences to give me the leg up I need to ride confidently into this wilderness called life.
Philippians 3:13 Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,
When I come to Cowboy Church I often wear my cowboy hat. But to be honest wearing the hat feels a little uncomfortable.
Even though I’ve owned more than fifty horses and have ridden since I was a kid I feel like a fraud.
Especially when I hang out around real old-time cowboys like Art Harfman, Lincoln Blaine or Pat Headlen.
I often wish I’d grown up on a ranch. If I’d grown up punching cows, I’d have earned the right to wear this cowboy hat.
My past experiences hold me back from being comfortable in the present. I guess we all have some baggage. So I wear my cowboy hat to church but until then… it usually hangs on a peg.
A few years back I had an experience with a young horse that I will reflect on tonight. It was a warm spring day and went out to the pasture to catch up one of our three new horses. I had chosen that day to work with a little sorrel filly. We named her “Dilemma” when we brought her home from the Auction in Armstrong. There is something to say about being careful in your choice of names.
Dilemma wasn’t much to look at, just a skinny, wild-eyed three year old. We only paid $75.00 for her, but at times I was sure it was $74.50 too much. I slipped the halter over my shoulder, attempting to hide it with my arm as I walked toward the pasture, but the horses spotted it and galloped to the other side.
This was the hardest part of the job - trying to separate one of the skittish creatures in a five-acre field. If I’d grown up on a ranch, I would’ve learned to rope.
I chased after the animals, huffing and puffing as I zig and zagged. Sweat rolled down my back. One-by-one I let them out into the training area. Now I pushed them all back out until only Dilemma stood in the corner. Snorting, her eyes brimmed with fear. I looked at the ground, lowered my voice, and spoke slowly, “Good girl. You’re ok.” It took about twenty minutes and I finally got her into a 10 x 10 pen.
For the next half hour I’d take slow steps toward her, talking, watching her squirm, then taking a step back as I let her get used to me. She wanted no part of me. Her experience with us humans was limited to being separated from her herd, roped and penned, pushed into a trailer, shipped with a bunch of meat horses and dropped off at the auction.
My roping attempts just made her mad. So I gently pushed her into a corner where I had placed another panel to act as a squeeze. Slowly I brought the panel into place and squeezed her in so she could not hurt herself or me. As I touched her neck and shoulder her eyes were big and wide. Finally, she let me rub her neck with the rope. After a bit I placed the rope halter over her head and tied the knot. She stood like that for a bit. Hesitantly I released the squeeze and tried to lead her.
She wasn’t liking any of this. I took a deep breath and led her toward the round pen. She pulled back and swung her head back and forth. At that moment, I’d of paid someone to take herd improver of my hands. Changing my mind on the pen I tied her to the snubbing post.
Our snubbing post was, notice I said was? a five-foot-tall post firmly planted in the ground. An old inner tube acted as a give and take mechanism. Letting the post do it’s job I went for a coffee.
Suddenly she jumped straight into the air. She came down snorting and blowing, the whites of her eyes showing. I watched in shock. White flecks of foamed sweat flew in all directions.
Dilemma jumped forward and slammed into the snubbing post. It cracked. She hauled back again. Then she dug in with her hind legs, pulling backward. Her hind muscles tensed, the rope stretched—the inner tube strained to the max held tight—the rope halter tightened and then Crack! The snubbing post snapped, and the top of it whipped into Dilemma’s chest.
She swung around, the broken post, held fast by the inner tube and lead rope, slamming into her hindquarters. The dogs started barking and giving chase. The other horses in the pasture started running and bucking. What a zoo!
Dilemma in hysterics bolted down our mile long lane-way and turned on to an old logging road we called “Wood Cutter’s trail. She took that turn like she was rounding the last turn at the Kentucky Derby. Rocks and dust flying everywhere.
I ran to the pickup, got in, and fired it up. I followed that cloud of dust. Several miles later where the logging road had petered out in a bunch of Jack Pine there was Dilemma. White lather blanketed her from head to hoof. She stood calmly, munching grass. Next to her was the snubbing post, still securely tied to the rope.
She’d spooked because of her past experiences. The harder she ran from it, the harder the post beat her. When she quit running, she discovered that the post quit beating her. So instead of running from it, now she used it as a starting place.
Luke 9:62 No man, having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.
As long as that horse’s mind set was back in the past she would be useless in the present. Tonight I’m taking Dilemma’s lesson to heart. I’m going to quit beating myself up with past experiences. I must learn that a person can focus so much on what did or didn’t happen in the past that it negatively affects your present state of being. Therefore I will proudly wear my cowboy hat even though I haven’t been raised on a ranch.
Each time I help a my old-time cowboy friends moving their cattle, I earn the right to wear my hat.
Each time I help Art with butchering or drive him crazy with questions about the cowboy lifestyle, I earn the right to think of myself as a cowboy.
I will use my past experiences to give me the leg up I need to ride confidently into this wilderness called life.
Philippians 3:13 Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,
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