You Can Lead a Mule to a Teet, but You Can't Make Her Drink (Part One)

Last Friday, May 8, my trainer called me at 7:45 a.m. to let me know that after more than a year of waiting, (I made the deal before the breeding took place) my foal had finally arrived. "It's a girl!" she cried into the phone. We'd been crossing our fingers that the baby would be a mare. Heck, we even outfitted the pregnant mother with a pink halter. Never underestimate the power of suggestion!

Thankful that my boss is flexible, hopped in the car and high-tailed it down to the barn, about 20 minutes away. I had a hunch this might be the weekend the birth would take place, so I'd finished that week's newsletter early, just in case.

When I arrived at the barn, the mare was on her feet and I could see Madge's tall, dark legs on the other side. There were, however, two other feet—human feet, one on either side of her. Upon closer inspection, I realized that they belonged to my trainer's dad. As I came closer, it became apparent that he was doing all he could to get little Madge to latch on to the nipple while the mare stood calmly above. I'd like to say that she latched on then and there, but she didn't. Finally it came time for him to leave for work, so we decided to give Madge a break.

It was obvious she was hungry. She suckled all over that mare—mostly between her front legs. This little filly simply wasn't born with a map to the buffet! Oddly enough, my trainer mentioned that she'd already drank water from the bucket. "Could this have bypassed her suckling response?" my trainer questioned aloud. We'd just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, I asked if I could go in to clean the stall. I knew that we ultimately didn't want too overwhelm the baby, so this would be the perfect chance to get near her. I climbed over the wall so we didn't chance an open-door escape. Knowing that I might frighten the little one with the pitch fork, I started slowly clearing hay from the stall. As I worked it became apparent that Madge was not a timid gal. She came right over for a gentle scratch behind the ears while Mom stood over us, protectively. By the time I was finished cleaning the stall, I was tossing hay and lightly brushing her with the plastic fork. She took it all in stride.

It was then time for me to head back to work, so I said my good-byes and headed out the door. For the next four hours, I waited for news that Madge had latched on to start feeding, but word never came. I knew that if she didn't start eating by noon, the vet was going to be called out. It was now 2:15 p.m. and I still hadn't received any promising news, so I high-tailed it back to the barn again.

When I arrived, I saw that my husband's truck was there. Not knowing when the baby would arrive, I'd planned on giving him a lesson in trailer pulling that day. Instead, he'd been enlisted to continue the task of getting Madge to take her first meal of healthy colostrum.

Personal observation: I have to admit, knowing that he was experiencing this bonding time with the baby made my heart beam. Travis is your typical horse husband—he goes along for the ride, but it's not really his first choice of activities. He'd much rather be playing baseball. Still, he comes along for the occasional lesson, has shown in one show (in which he won In-hand Novice Champion—thanks, Max!), and loves Maxine dearly.

Travis guided Madge with a gentle hand, but she would have none of it. She was starting to show a key component in her personality—"Don't help me, I can do it myself!" After a good college try, Travis came out of the stall so Madge could rest.

Around 3:00 p.m., the vet pulled up. We use a fabulous local vet who has a down-to-earth personality and years of valuable experience. My trainer quickly shared her concern that this might be a dummy foal, a term I'd never heard before this weekend. After a thorough examination, the vet gave us the diagnosis... she was definitely not a dummy foal, she was just a little slow at picking this up. I asked if this was in any way linked to her intelligence (or lack there of) and he answered, with a twinkle in his eye, "Well, let's just say it can only get better from here."

Once we had that cleared up, he inserted a stomach tube down Madge's nose. This would allow us to feed her. Because the tube entered her nose rather than her mouth, she would still be able to nurse if she ever figured it out—our ultimate goal.

Madge was now a sorry sight. In addition to the tube in her nose, she now sported vet wrap around her face and neck, and was fitted with a halter to hide the rest of the tube so that the mare would be less able to pull it out. So much for a day of pretty baby photos.

After milking a pint from the mare, the vet poured the warm liquid into Madge's feeding tube. He instructed us we should do the same every two hours until 10:00 p.m. "At 10:00 the kitchen closes," he added. "She won't learn to eat on her own if she's not hungry." It was a relief to hear that we wouldn't have to discuss who would be stuck with overnight duty.

For the rest of the day, we continued our unsuccessful quest to latch Madge onto the mare's teet. I went home at 8:30 that night, tired and sore from kneeling down to help Madge and milk the mare. We crossed our fingers that she'd figure it out by morning.

Photo: Madge receives dinner in bed.

FLASHBACK (September 2005): Buyer Beware! (Part Two)

Read part one.

I was so excited the next day. My trainer's dad was scheduled to pick up Donk around noon and I'd head out after work to give him a try.

As soon as I arrived at the barn, my trainer said, "I know you're eager to try him out. Why don't you bring him around and tack him up where I can observe. Based on what we've seen, I think you can ride him first."

Wow! I wouldn't even need anyone to warm him up for me! So cool!

Personal observation: My trainer is incredibly safety conscious—something I love. However, there was a point I thought I'd never get to ride a mule that hadn't been warmed up by someone else. Fortunately, those times have passed.

After grabbing the new halter I'd just bought, I headed down to the barn where Donk was waiting in a tie stall. When I turned the corner, I noticed something odd. His eyes weren't soft and friendly like they were the night before. Now they were sharp and alert. As I quietly moved in to put on a stud chain, he began to pace back and forth. Not a good sign. Convinced it was something I was doing, I asked another rider with much more experience to come over to assist.

"Am I doing something wrong?" I asked.

"No," she said matter-of-factly. "He shouldn't be doing that."

She expertly inserted the stud chain in the halter, and we were off to tack up.

Personal observation: I always lead with a stud chain on my mule. Why? Because I'm no match for 1,000 pounds of equine with attitude, and no matter how fabulous an animal is, there are always days when they have attitude. For those days, I like to have my tools ready. Besides, the way Donk was acting, I wasn't going to take a chance.

Back in the yard, I tied Donk to a tree and began to saddle him up. Though I wasn't experienced enough to recognize it at the time, he was very cinchy. His back balled up and he was tense as a rattler about to strike. Once, when asking him to move away from me with a gentle "over" and a soft cue, he startled and quickly stepped away as if I'd slapped him with a reign.

"Um, If you don't mind, I think I'll have one of the wranglers ride him down a bit before you get on," my trainer suggested.

"By all means," I replied. Novice or no, I knew something was up. Donk was not behaving in the calm manner that I'd become used to with my trainer's animals. I was more than happy to let a wrangler "take the fall" as it were.

As my friends and I stood watch, the wrangler prepared to mount from the ground. As his weight settled into the stirrup, Donk reared up and slowly spun away.

"Yeah. Why don't we pony him down a bit before...," my trainer trailed off. "On second thought, why don't we put up, and tomorrow Dad will take him back where he came from."

"Sounds like a plan," I replied.

Personal observation: I wasn't really sad that night—Donk was too ugly to get sad over—but I know I was a little let down. Later, while talking with my trainer, we came to the conclusion that Donk had likely been drugged—both the night we looked at him and the day that her dad picked him up. It was the best explanation for his droopy appearance and seemingly inexplicable mood changes.

Why a person would be foolish enough to agree to a two-week trial for a mule that was drugged I'll never know. Maybe they thought that I'd simply fall in love with him and blame his faults on my inexperience. Fortunately, I had the support of those with experience enough to help me make the safe choice. I only wish every novice was so fortunate.

After my lesson that evening (on a much safer mule), I went to dinner with Travis. After dinner, he did something I never would've expected. He bought me a gorgeous black and white Paint mare—from Toys-R-Us.

Photo: Donk gets tacked up by his owner. What a looker! I just don't know why I didn't overlook his shortcomings and fall in love with him on the spot! *tee hee*

Is It All Worth It?--A Follow Up

I went out to the barn today to visit Maxine. We hadn't seen each other since our exciting clinic last Saturday. Frankly, I wanted to give her a break to recuperate.

Because her hooves are a little overdue for the farrier, I decided to tackle a some light groundwork. It wasn't going to be a long session, I just wanted to see what her mood was like.

I'm pleased to say that Maxine was in fine form. She quietly performed her showmanship and maneuvered obstacles similar to those that had given us so much trouble last weekend, such as walking through a tire, and backing through the "L."

In return for her regained work ethic, we spent some time hand grazing on the lawn before I put her to bed for the night with a pile of hay and a healthy helping of grain and yummy herbs.

It's definitely all worth it.

Is It All Worth It?

Last Saturday, my trainer put on a Mountain Trail Clinic, and we were all invited. I was very excited and couldn't wait to take Maxine. The clinic was at another location, so we'd have new obstacles and areas to use for training. There's no better opportunity for fun...

Or so I thought.

I drove down to the barn to pick up Maxine. She's been a little awnry with loading lately (a complete act that I refuse to encourage), so I got my tools ready before I brought her up to the trailer.

Personal observation: I typically trailer alone, so I've had to improvise ways to work this out myself. Basically, I run a long lunge line through the blanket holder at the front of the trailer. This allows me to keep forward pressure on her halter and at the same time get back far enough to provide a wee bit of "encouragement" with the whip. It works every time with Maxine in under a minute. However, I'm not sure if it would work with your equine, so "consult a professional before you try this at home." (That's my fine print for the day.)

Maxine was quickly loaded and we were on our way. After a mile or so with the windows down the listen for unusual trailer noises, I turned up the radio and prepared for a fabulous sunny day with my mule. Unfortunately, there were dark clouds ahead--literally and figuratively.

After an uneventful 40-minute drive, I arrived at the barn, parked the rig, and unloaded Maxine. Folks were already working in hand with their equines--both mules and donkeys--so we wandered over to training area. It was an equine playground , full of ditches, seesaw bridges, tractor tires (both will and without dirt in the middle), poles, snags, and more. What more could a trail competitor ask for?

Knowing that she can easily tread in and around a tractor tire, we headed over to one that was full of dirt for an easy start.

Jenny: "Cluck... Step up."

Maxine: "No."

Giving the benefit of the doubt: "Cluck... Step up."

Maxine: "I don't feel like it."

Third time's the charm: "Cluck... Step up... Tap."

Maxine: "You can't make me." *roll eyes*

Personal observation: Mom, if I was ever like this as a child (and I know I was) I apologize profusely.

I don't think so: "Cluck... Step up... Whack!"

Maxine: "Hey! Fine, I'll go. But I won't like it!"

Me: "See, that wasn't so hard. Now stand there while you're crazy Mother takes a few pictures."

After her photo shoot, I cued her off the tire. On the way down, Maxine thought that the best place to put her hooves was safely on my toes. Ouch! I think someone has respect issues, so we tried again. This time she was encouraged to step down politely and after on the third try she even stopped to pose for a photo at the midway point. I had won the battle, but it was only the first of many.

For the rest of the day, Maxine fought and struggled with every obstacle. Our biggest battle was the muddy ditch. My attempt from the saddle was unsuccessful, so I hopped down the try a little ground work under the watchful eyes of my trainer.

After a bit of butt weaving, she trod into the ditch while I walked next to her on the side. One step, two steps, three steps...

"I'm scared!" she cried, silently, as she thrust herself out of the ditch, pushing me backward and kicking my ankle in the process. I was none too happy and quickly let her know with a swift jerk of her stud chain. Only then did I check my ankle for broken bones. Once I was sure eveything was in place, we tromped back to the ditch.

Personal observation: Maxine once mildly strained a tendon in a muddy ditch, so I understand her hesitation. However, she must learn that Mommy knows best and running her over is never the solution.

As we entered the ditch a second time, Max hesitated and looked for an escape route. I sensed her hesitation this time and before she could make a break for it, I popped her up side the nose. Surprised, she stood her ground and then settled down. Lick, chew, lick, chew. Scared my ass (no pun intended).

We slowly finished our journey through the 20-foot ditch, halting a few times along the way for emphasis. Once we were through, we did it once more for good measure. This time, Maxine was an angel--another battle won.

I'd like to say that from then on Maxine was a gem--she wasn't. She continued to struggle with elementary obstacles. My only concession is that she was in a flaming heat cycle and the weather was definitely wonky. Excuses, I know, but these things do affect our equine friends.

Finally, knowing that I had accomplished all that I could for the day, I untacked Maxine and headed back to the clinic on foot, leaving her to quietly graze by the trailer. After saying my good-byes, I loaded Maxine and headed back to the barn.

I wish I could say that I had a fun day, but I didn't. I did, however, have a day filled with small personal victories. Not only did I win every battle with Maxine, I also helped others get through their own battles. It's wonderful to know that I'm now one of the trusted hands who's often called on to give assistance, rather than a complete novice who's constantly in need of assistance. It's definitely all worth it.

Personal observation: Not a complete novice, but still a novice.

Photo: Maxine patiently waits for me to take a photo.

Whatever You Do, Please Don't Run Under Her Belly!

As many of you already know, I'm expecting a baby this spring. A baby mule, that is. I'm very excited about the prospect of owning a mule that I handle from day one. Of course, having never done this before, I've asked my trainer to do whatever she can to help me (and Maxine) prepare for the task.

Three weeks ago, when I was taking Maxine through a light workout, the perfect training situation came out of the blue. My trainer was training a mini-donkey yearling, Jen-ai. Let me tell you, this little jenny is a spit-fire. Jen-ai is has a lot of buck for such a little girl. Noticing that she had quite a bit of spunk, but wasn't quite getting the whole "I go you go" deal, I asked my trainer if she'd like me to pony her. Yes, she replied eagerly.

I took the lead rope, looped it once around my saddle horn, and set off with Maxine--little Jen-ai dragging behind. Fortunately, it only took a second for her to learn that it was much easier to walk than be pulled and she quickly fell in next to Maxine.

And then she got a mind of her own. She bucked when she saw mud. She tried to go under Maxine's belly. And, each time we got in sight of her barn she'd try to run past Maxine.

I was there to tell her "No," but my work was made easier by Maxine, who had entered the Mother Zone. Each time she "spoke out of turn," Maxine would turn and give her a look that put her back in her place. Once or twice she even gave Jen-ai a quiet, but stern, bray to show her who's boss.

Once, Jen-ai ran right in front of Maxine. Scared she might get trampled I pulled the reins to "Whoa," but Max was one step (or halt) ahead of me. She instinctively came to a stop. As she turned to Jen-ai and then to me, I could clearly read the look on her face--"silly kids." I'm positive she even rolled her eyes.

In the end, Jen-ai got the picture and set about to show that she will eventually have manners. Not bad for her first time with a big girl.

I was overjoyed with Maxine's response to the situation. While Max is not the mother ofmy future mule, I envision her taking a strong role in her training--showing her what it means to be a good mule. She's once again proven that I can count on her to keep the little one in line.

Of course, we had so much fun that we've been ponying minis almost every weekend since. It won't be long before the baby's here, so we'll take all the practice we can get!

Photo: Maxine and I ponying Buzz, a mini-donkey. Buzz is so named because he has so much energy that it's as if he's on a caffeine buzz! This was his first time with the big girls and he took to it well.

Patience is a Virtue...

It's been three months since Maxine's freakish food grabbing/ tendon injuring incident and I'm finally back in the saddle again. She was looking pretty good in December, but I decided to wait until early January before putting her back to work. I didn't want to take any chance that I'd reinjure her leg.

The first weekend started slow.

I went out on Friday and jogged her around the driveway. And I mean that literally--I ran next to her for lap after lap to so she could loosen up her weakened muscles without my weight on her back.

The next day, I ponied her off of Hazel. To my surprise, she really enjoyed walking with Hazel. She doesn't typically like ponying or being ponied by horses or mules, but, Hazel is a donkey, so that's entrely different. *roll eyes* Silly girl.

The next weekend I gently climed aboard and took her for a light workout--mostly walking with a couple of laps at a trot here and there. Since she really needs to build up her back muscles, I started taking her through a lot of bending exercises. I also toss in some haunch turns and backing up a slight incline to build up her hind end.

The slow re-entry phase has payed off. This is her fourth weekend back under saddle and I'm really starting to feel her get her strength back. Her hind end isn't loosey-goosey anymore, her back is really toning up, and she's getting her old power walk back.

Tomorrow, she'll get her first trail workout at Elijah Bristow State Park. We've been there a few times. The park has a nice flat trail that she really enjoys. I'm so looking forward to it!

Photo: Me and Maxine on the trail at Elijah Bristow. This was taken last summer.

Competing at the 2008 National Trail Championship -- The Maxine Perspective

My weekend with Maxine was much different than in years past. She'd cut her leg in a food-grabbing stunt the month before, and I just wasn't sure that she'd be ready for the show.

Playing it safe, I entered her in the In-Hand class only. This turned out to be a wise decision. By the weekend of the show, she was doing well on her own, but I didn't yet want to put my weight on her--especially over those steep hills and drop-downs.

On the first day we entered the ring and made our way through the course. Always the trooper, Maxine explored the trail with ease. We ended the first day in first place!

Our second day didn't go quite as well. On one particular obstacle we were required to cross a ditch. Unfortunately, the ditch wasn't a long one and, convinced it was safer to take the flatter, safer route, she didn't cross the ditch cleanly. Still we forged ahead. We didn't finish in first place that day, but we remained near the top of the pack.

On the third day, I was convinced that we'd tumbled to the bottom of the standings. I thought that Maxine was pushy and rushed over the obstacles. Of course, I always think this and I'm glad to say I'm often wrong. At the end of the day, I found out that I was in the top five. I'd have to wait until the next morning's award ceremony to find out my final standing.

The next morning, I was a wee bit nervous. Before the ceremony, I sang the National Anthem for the crowd. Then I headed down to take Maxine into the ring to await the results. It was a long wait, but they finally got to my class. Mark, the announcer, said that the top three placings were separated by a mere three points. Maxine and I placed third! The horses that placed first and second are stellar In-Hand animals and I was happy to place with such good competition.

Personal observation: However, I can't honestly say that I wasn't disappointed. This was the first year that buckles were handed out at the show. I've never won a buckle and I'm dying to do so. I know there's always next time, but dang it. If I hadn't let Maxine blow that ditch, (we got a six for that obstacle) we would've placed first. I know what I'll be doing this winter--digging a ditch so we can practice, practice, practice.

Of course, no matter what we place, I'm very proud of my girl--we always get a lot of praise from judges, fellow competitors, and spectators alike. I am so happy to be part of a show where nearly everyone is friendly, thoughtful of one another, and genuinely supportive and pleased when other competitors do well. Their support encourages me to continually improve my skills so that I continue to rise to the top in my classes. I always compete with a smile on my face because I truly enjoy these competitions.

Photo: Maxine and I compete in the In-Hand Open class at the Mountain Trail Competition.