My Tanzanian Safari ( From Acton to Arusha)

A Safari in Tanzania, Simultaneously One of the World's Poorest and Richest Countries

Ngorongoro Elephant                                                                      Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2016


       If you told me a year ago that I would be flying to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania to begin an incredible adventure involving the Maasai, Africa's "Big Five"(Lions, Rhinos, Cape Buffalo, Elephants, and Leopards), I would have told you to check out the sad balance in my checkbook. Then I would have pointed to the three horses in my pasture responsible for this shortfall.

      However, my remarkable husband was asked by Harvard Alumni Tours to act as study leader on a trip to Tanzania.  How did an English professor, his specialty being 18th-century British  literature, get asked to escort a group of Harvard alums to a country whose  primary language is Swahili and whose body of literature is to this day mostly oral? Here I must brag: not only is Jim educated in the humanities, he is committed to the study of human affairs and devoted to the welfare and dignity of all.  This includes a deep and abiding concern for the environment and the ramifications of increasing climate disruption, particularly for those who are being, and will continue to be, affected the most.  Here are some of those whom I met in just such a place, the cradle of civilization, the birthplace of us all, sub-Saharan Africa: 




        I am getting ahead of myself, however.  To get to Tanzania we first flew to Schipol, Amsterdam's international airport.  From there we met up with the other Harvard alums and boarded a KLM jet to Kilimanjaro.  Though  a climb up to the sadly disappearing snow cap of the great mountain was not on our itinerary, judging from the hiking boots and backpacks on the plane, it certainly was for a number of our fellow passengers.  

      Once through customs we were met by Thomson Safari representatives who packed us into one minibus and drove us to an evening of respite and relaxation at the gorgeous Rivertrees Country Inn where Jim and I fell asleep in a beautiful African appointed cottage complete with billowy white mosquito netting.  The next morning I strolled the Arusha river banks because, purportedly, there were monkeys to be seen there. Sadly, however, not seen by me.  Apparently it was still too cool for them to seek out the river's water and shade.  So after a breakfast buffet of everything you can imagine, pastries, fresh fruit, omelettes, and crepes, it was back into the minibus and on to Arusha Airport.

       I learned that the highway we were on was being widened by the Chinese.  As many of you already know, the Chinese are in Africa in a big way.  They need its resources--minerals, metals, food from land leased or purchased, and precious stones.  While the Chinese are doing good works--roadwork, building hospitals--they are not training the Tanzanians to operate the equipment they have brought over, a characteristic of economic imperialism, that the Chinese themselves fell victim to in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.  
       We all know that the Chinese are up to their ears in the illegal exotic animal trade, and while they maybe bumping up the Tanzanian economy with roads, hospitals, heavy machinery, and stethoscopes, they are putting at risk its budding ecotourism industry by decimating its wildlife, particularly elephants.  Chinese diplomats, it seems, have been packing their diplomatic pouches with ivory.  However, that is but one of their methods.
       
       I will write more in future entries on this ongoing war--and it is a war--against these magnificent animals, but do please read the articles below which will give you an idea as to the scope of its horror:
          http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaandindianocean/tanzania/11748349/Tanzanias-elephant-catastrophe-We-recalculated-about-1000-times-because-we-didnt-
believe- 

http://www.cnn.com/2015/10/09/africa/tanzania-elephant-ivory-queen-arrest/index.html

   



Arusha Airport                                                                       Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2016

      At Arusha Airport our minibus was closely examined before we were allowed to pass through its chainlink gates.  A gentleman with a long stick with a mirror at the bottom scanned the undercarriage for possible bombs.  Once admitted it was on to having our documents, luggage, and carry-on items examined.  Unfortunately, we were held up due to another airline, KLM.  It seems that Royal Dutch Airlines gifted one of our tour members with two complementary, miniature, delft ceramic houses filled with liquor when he transited from his native Toronto to Amsterdam.

      I was confident that none of my fellow travelers were terrorist candidates, and if I had to choose the one least likely to have been radicalized, it would have been the sweet, mild mannered sixteen-year-old Canadian Liam, who happened to be the unfortunate recipient of an alcohol-filled delft ceramic that KLM gave its passengers.  Again and again, poor Liam was asked how he got these pieces and he was told--again and again--how this was not only illegal because of the alcohol, but that these little blue delft houses could be smashed by a potential evil doer, i.e. him, and turned into potential throat-slitting weapons. 

     Repeatedly Liam apologized for his non-mistake but this guard went on and on for nearly twenty minutes.   When you are jet-lagged, sleep deprived, and standing in the hot African sun, twenty minutes is a long, long time.  Finally, the man said he would let Liam and his delft houses go but only if the young man swore he had no criminal intentions.  If Liam did, in fact, have nefarious plans, the guard said that it would mean he, the guard, would lose his job.  Loss of a plane and loss of lives, i.e. ours, did not seem to be a concern.  Liam promised (yet again) that he would make no attempt to take over the airplane with shards of Dutch delft.  This time the security guard seemed to believe him.  Well, sort of.

    Finally, it was onto this: 



                                             Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2016

       I don't much like flying in planes, much less ones having only one engine.  It's one of the reasons I joined the Navy rather than the Air Force.  (Here, I must admit that during my eleven years of service, I wound up spending more time in planes and helicopters than I ever did onboard ship.)  Additionally, I didn't find it in the least bit comforting to be told by our pilot Jose that we were likely to encounter considerable turbulence but that he would do his best to fly around it.

       Here we are leaving Tanzania's northern city of Arusha:



       In a few minutes we were here:



       Then here:



       And then here!



       And finally a hint, just a hint, of what was to come:



      
       At that time the turbulence could only be experienced visually--a large angry red spot on the radar.  In the end, pilot Jose managed to skirt around any rough weather and, after fifty minutes, we began our descent, finally landing on a grass runway that could only be identified as such by two parallel lines of rocks and a fully employed windsock.  There we met our highly knowledgeable wonderful Thomson safari guides, Abu, Ojouku, and Freddie.  In retrospect, I cannot imagine a safari without them:




          After our luggage was loaded into our three Land Rovers, it was onto our Eastern Serengeti Nyumba ("Nyumba" is Swahili for home) set on the slopes of the Moruga Hill which, until less than a decade ago, had been leased to a brewing company to raise barley.  Fortunately, the Tanzanian government decided it was in the best interests of its people and ecosystem to let Thomson Safari take it over.   This has allowed it to revert to open plains and wooded savannas.

       On the hour-long drive our first animal life were cattle, goats, sheep, and donkeys belonging to the Maasai :








       These donkeys had ample pasture but they ambled down here to lick salt:



        All the livestock I saw at our first nyumba, indeed, spent their days grazing in large open fields of grass.  I'm sure  the feedlot cows in the U.S. would happily exchange places with these animals.  That is,  perhaps with the exception of these two oxen.  Our guide said they were being trained Maasai-style, "to become friends."





             In a short while these two will pull a cart together, and this is how they become habituated to each other's company.  It is an effective way to ensure they are pair bonded.  Still, I think they look rather forlorn.

       Soon the domestic animals gave way to wild:



      Zebra, wildebeest (I knew them as gnu growing up), and a giraffe!  Then the delicate, elegant Grant's gazelles.


Grant's Gazelles                                                      Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015


       After a delicious dinner with the other guests, Jim and I retired to our luxurious tent, making sure all our belongings were inside.  We had been told that hyenas and baboons happily carry off anything and everything they can get their mouths and hands around:



Thomson Ten                                                             Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2016


                The next day the magic really began.  I also tested the applicability of Natural Horsemanship on some local giraffes.  Stay tuned.


       Thank you for reading The Windflower Weekly.  See you soon --   Ainslie 

LINKS YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://www.mustangheritagefoundation.org

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-An-Equestrian-Romance-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://windflowerfarmgiftsforani.smugmug.com

https://www.pinterest.com/Dollydressage

http://www.facebook.com/YonkersShelter

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

http://www.thomsonsafaris.com/

Sources:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://returntofreedom.org/

http://wildhorsepreservation.org/wild-horses-and-ecosystem

Looking for equine and pet related gifts?  Check out the photo pendants in my Etsy shop and a variety of t-shirts, mugs, travel mugs, on Cafe Press.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

http://www.cafepress.com/windflowerfarmgiftsforanimallovers

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-Equestrian-Romance-Ainslie-Sheridan-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

                               

My Ecelctus Parrots, Vincent and Aki

         Aki and Vincent                                                   Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015



   

          This is an unanticipated blog entry about my two eclectus parrots. Vincent and Aki.  You will understand why as you read.  From the time I was a child I loved birds and had a wonderful powder blue parrot named Money.  (Though a present, I knew he and his cage and accessories were expensive items.)

       Two years ago I bought a beautiful female eclectus from a man who decided to give her up because he was away at work from five thirty in the morning until seven in the evening.  I decided upon this species of parrot because they are known to be relatively quiet, unlike Amazons and Cockatoos, whose dawn and dusk celebrations of life are enough to make you quickly don your pair of noise reduction ear muffs.  This "freedom of screech" allows them to communicate with other distant flocks.

      Those thinking of getting a parrot should learn what's involved in taking care of one.  Whether they are hand-reared or not parrots retain their wild characteristics. They generally bond with only one person viewing others as interlopers often the recipient of a bite meant to send them packing. Often it is the bird who is sent packing.  Because of their noise, ability to inflict painful bites, and reluctance to bond with more than one person, the average parrot has lived in five different homes before he dies, often unwanted, sometimes living in the dark in a cage semi-permanently covered with a towel or blanket.  After the research consider getting your bird from a rescue.  Parrots are the third most discarded pet in the U.S. 

      Aki's home was reeking of cigarette smoke and had a beak so deformed she could not close it.  Her breast was completely bare from plucking.  There was no way I was not going to take her home with me.

      Next day it was straight to the vet who set to work on her beak with his clippers and dremel.  When Dr. Sager stretched out her wings we both smelled cigarette smoke.  

     I ordered special eclectus food which is high in vitamin A.  They also need lots of fruits and vegetables.  Her previous owner gave me the remainder of the food he's been feeding her, but it was not really what she needed.

     Aki adjusted well to life in Acton, spent time outside in the sun, and had full spectrum light over her cage.  She ate well and seemed to enjoy the variety of food I offered her. Aki was happy to be out of her cage and happy to be in it.  When she wanted to be picked up she would lower her body and vibrate her wings.  Here she is on our deck munching on some petunias:

       This is where she spent many hours with me while I was at the computer or reading in bed.  That swing was a favorite :

       

       
       A few weeks later I was contacted by a woman I talked to earlier about her eclectus.  She asked if was still be looking for a bird and wanted to know if I was still interested in her male eclectus.  She was an excellent caring owner and simply did not have time for Vincent due to changes in her work schedule.  He, too, had begun to pluck.  I decided to take him, as well.  The more I learned about parrots the more I thought Aki would be happier with a companion.  And so Vincent arrived with his own cage which I put next to Aki's.

       I expected an exciting time when they first met but the pair seemed only mildly interested in each other.  When parrots are but a few days old, they are removed from their parents by their breeders.  They are then fed by humans, and become imprinted, essentially thinking they are human, while still having the same needs and behaviors as any wild eclectus living in its native Solomon Islands   Vincent was more interested in regurgitating and sharing his food with me than with Aki.  However, in time they bonded, and Aki happily moved into Vincent's cage.  

       After several trips to the vet, Aki was finally able to close her beak.  She no longer smelled of tobacco smoke, enjoyed baths several times a week, as did Vincent.  

       Yesterday, was another routine trip to the vet for beak and toenail trimming.  Everything seemed normal.  Aki only objected when the vet started using the Dremmel, but she'd always behaved like that, as did Vincent.

       All of a sudden, Dr. Sager rushed out of the room saying that Aki had gone into cardiac arrest.  Despite his best efforts Aki could not be resuscitated.  I was stunned.  Dr. Sager explained that cardiac arrest occasionally occurs with smaller birds, canaries, parakeets, and finches.  This was the first time in his career as an exotic animal vet that a bird Aki's size had died of cardiac arrest. Dr. Sager suggested that there might be some underlying medical  condition that had compromised her health. 

      I will never know whether that was the case,  but certainly, Aki's health had been compromised before I had gotten her.  Her food was not the best and she was exposed 24/7 to second hand smoke.  She didn't receive routine vet care and had been unable to close her beak for God knows how many years.

     

       Vincent                                                                                      Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       
        Now Vincent is without his mate.  In the wild, of course, he could draw support from his flock.  Sadly, his only flock is me.  Dr. Sager advised that I not get another parrot because there was no guarantee they would bond.  I had just been lucky, it seems with Aki and Vincent.  I decided that I would get a parakeet so Vincent would at least have the company of another bird.  Dr. Sager advised me to wait a week or two.  Vincent would need to mourn for that length of time, and he might view the arrival of a new bird as that of an interloper.  They can't be together, of course, Vincent could do terrible damage to such a little tyke.

       I understand much more about parrots than I did when I was a little girl with a parakeet.  They are highly intelligent and emotionally supersensitive.  Each flock has its own dialect and each baby has been named by its parent.  But why do they talk like us? Deprived of the language of the flock, they learn the language of humans.  Do they understand the English they have learned?  Well, I think it depends on what they have learned.  When my husband is in a rush Vincent will say with a measure of concern in his voice, "What's the matter?" When he caught me wiping away the regurgitated food he'd given me with a paper towel, he said "S_ _ t!!," as he marched over clearly intending to give me a bite for rejecting his nourishing, albeit rather disgusting gift.   Trying to mount Aki when she was not in the mood he kept repeating, "Stop it!  What are you doing?  Stop it?!"

       Vincent was observing Aki getting her beak trimmed from his carrier, and when the vet rushed out of the room with her in his hands, Vincent said, "What's the matter? What are you doing? What's the matter?"  Did Vincent understand the questions he was asking?   I'm certain he did.  

       Thank you for reading The Windflower Weekly--

       Ainslie

LINKS YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://www.mustangheritagefoundation.org

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-An-Equestrian-Romance-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://windflowerfarmgiftsforani.smugmug.com

https://www.pinterest.com/Dollydressage

http://www.facebook.com/YonkersShelter

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

Sources:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://returntofreedom.org/

http://wildhorsepreservation.org/wild-horses-and-ecosystem

Looking for equine and pet related gifts?  Check out the photo pendants in my Etsy shop.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

http://www.cafepress.com/windflowerfarmgiftsforanimallovers

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-Equestrian-Romance-Ainslie-Sheridan-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

A Wyoming Mustang Comes To Windflower Part 2

                                                                                         Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015


        Those of you who have read my blog entries from last winter already know it was the snowiest and coldest on record in Massachusetts, not the optimal time for taking care of five horses. (Missing in the above action is our little ten-hand Shetland Kip.  She had wisely parked herself in the deepest reaches of the run-in shed.)  And it certainly was not the optimal time for me to receive this e-mail from Juliane, my friend, former student, and now fellow trainer whom I've known since she was eight years old:

Hi all:
This would be completely crazy.
But totally a dream come true! I didn't know they were coming to MA but applications are due VERY soon.
What do you all think?
I would need a place to keep the horse from April-Aug and therefore need to come up with a couple months' board . . .  but what a good investment for my career!

An attachment explained why this would be "completely crazy." The "Extreme Mustang Makeover" was coming to Massachusetts. Any announcement that has the words "Extreme" and "Mustang" in its heading certainly gets my immediate attention.

      The Mustang Heritage Foundation (MHF), in conjunction with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), supports and facilitates the adoption of mustangs.  The BLM is the federal agency that manages our public lands and the wildlife on it. Every year, in locations throughout the United States, the MHF runs "Mustang Makeovers" so Americans can see up close and personal this symbol of the American West and understand what versatile riding horses they can make.  The "Mustang Makeover" in our area was to be in August at the Topsfield Fairgrounds, less than an hour northeast of my farm.

       If Juliane's application was approved, she and other participants would pick up their unhandled mustangs in April, at a town just under an hour away, this time to the northwest.  The mustangs are randomly assigned, and trainers have no idea what they are getting until they arrive to pick up a horse.  They then have one hundred days to ready their animal for the September competition.  The top ten trainers, those who have done well in their divisions, move on to the final competition, the freestyle.  A freestyle is an original performance designed by the rider and set to music of the rider's choice.  After the freestyle all mustangs are put up for auction, giving the public an opportunity to bid on a gentled mustang.  Cash prizes of $7,000 dollars for the youth division and $20,000 for the adult divisions is awarded.

       I thought it was terrific idea.  Very few people who ride horses have had the experience of training a horse from the start, much less a wild mustang.  It would be a true test of Natural Horsemanship.  I told Juliane that the mustang could stay at Windflower during its training, if she could come up with all expenses concerned, and did all of the training.  We've been doing Natural Horsemanship for over twenty years, and Juliane, though just twenty, was certainly more than qualified to take this on.  She would graduate from college in just two months and then could devote even more time to this extraordinary project.  If things got tight during her exam period I could fill in.

       Her application was approved, and we headed off to Orange, MA, one cold and bleak April morning.  Our party was made up of Juliane, her friend Jon and fellow horse trainer, and two of our students, Zoe and Katie.  While Juliane went off to an office to pick up her paperwork, we went to check out the mustangs in an indoor arena.  This is what we saw upon entering (I'm sorry the picture quality is poor, but it was cloudy and I didn't dare use my flash): 

  Mustangs   Orange, MA                                        Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015




   

          The arena was divided into approximately twelve corrals with an aisle devoted to loading that ran through the middle.  There were a total of eighty equids, about seventy horses and ten donkeys.  At first glance they were not an inspiring lot.  Most were dirty and covered with manure stains, all manes and tails hopelessly tangled.  None had ever been handled save being put in a squeeze box to be freeze branded, get their vaccinations, have their feet trimmed, and, if a stallion, be gelded.  These horses had just been shipped across the US, and all they knew was that they were no longer free, no longer in sunshine, and that slowly but surely, one by one, their herd mates were disappearing. Approximately half these horses were going to "Mustang Makeover" trainers while the rest had either been bought during an on line auction or would be auctioned off that day. 

       Here's a sweet picture of Zoe with one of the burros being offered for adoption.  It had obviously been handled some and enjoyed being scratched:

    Wild Burro  Orange, MA
       
       Juliane returned with the tag number of her mustang and was told it was one of the three pintos in the competition.  This one matched her number.  Meet Rocio ("Dewdrop" in Spanish): 

  Rocio and friend                                         Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015
         

      A tobiano (brown and white pinto) with mostly white, she stood somewhere around fourteen hands.  She is also visible, barely, in the the first photo of the mustangs in pens.  I watched her behavior with the eight or so other horses in the pen.  She seemed to be the lowest on the totem pole, always yielding to the slightest aggressive posturing by the others.  That could indicate she was timid, possibly spooky, and it might be quite difficult to earn her trust.  I would soon learn my assessment was incorrect.

       We arrived at the farm early, so there was only one mustang to load before us.  We found out all mustangs present for the competition were mares, which made sense.  Having  the competitors train only mares (or only geldings, as is the case with some other mustang venues) would level the playing field.  As many of you know, mares tend to be a little more opinionated and a little more concerned about their environment than are geldings.

      The lady wrangler somehow managed to separate her from her herd mates and get her into the long aisle.  Within seconds the wrangler got directly behind the horse then waved a whip.  The mustang got the message and shot down the aisle like a bullet. With the young woman running and waving her whip behind him, the terrified mustang jumped into the stock trailer.  Two gentlemen wranglers immediately slammed the door shut and the mare was off to her new hundred-day home.

     Juliane's pinto was next.  Because she seemed so timid in the corral I thought loading her would be as easy as the one we'd just seen.  Wrong!  

Here's Rocio now in the aisle.  Everything seems to be going according to plan:

  Rocio    Orange, MA                                             Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

      Halfway down the aisle, Rocio, however, did one of the tightest and quickest about faces I have ever seen.  Rocio galloped by the young lady and her whip.

Sorry about the blur, but that is exactly what she was:

  Rocio       Orange, MA                                       Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

Once again:

    Rocio       Orange, MA                                       Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

Heading back:

  Rocio   Orange, MA                                    Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

      

       Another try, and Rocio whipped around and headed back to her paddock friends.  The third time, however, was the charm:

   Third attempt                                        Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

She was in!

  Rocio in trailer                                                  Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       It was difficult to watch this.  Rocio was terrified but, really, there was no other way.  I just wished she could have understood that her life was about to change for the better.  She was a former member of the 50,000 mustangs held in holding pens and corrals in ten western states.  The BLM has determined that, with a lack of predators, the herds of wild mustangs must be culled.  They believe that in four years the wild mustang population, estimated at 45,000, will double. 

       As I mentioned in my previous blog http://windflowerfarmweekly.blogspot.com/2015/08/a-wyoming-mustang-comes-to-windflower.html, the ratio of cattle to mustangs on BLM leased land is approximately thirty to one. There is no end to complaints about the mustangs drinking the cattles' water and eating their grass.  The anti-mustang groups complain that the mustangs are not truly wild but feral.  Well, the cows eating the grass on BLM land aren't exactly wild either, not even feral.

        This appetite for red meat is not only hurting our hearts but hurting our poor planet.  It has been six years of unprecedented drought in the west, with California the hardest hit.  Were some herds not captured by the BLM, they would die of starvation. Scientists are convinced that climate disruption in the form of greenhouse gases increased the severity of the California drought by twenty percent.  Mother Nature knows best, we do not!  We need to listen to her.  She is screaming at us! 

     A scared Rocio:

  Rocio in Trailer                                                          Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015


     In the foreground, Juliane, Rocio's trainer, is the cowboy booted blonde, Katie is manning the video camera, and then Zoe on the right:

   About To Leave                                                         Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       One hour later we arrived at Windflower.  Juliane's friend Jon managed to back the trailer into the round pen that we'd set up.  I wished it had been drier.  The mud was the result of our hideous winter and its record-breaking snowfalls.

  Rocio arrives at Windflower                          Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       On the way home Juliane was able to decipher what her papers said about Rocio.  She hailed from Adobe Town, Wyoming, was five years old, and stood in a holding pen for (we think) four and a half years.  She was probably still nursing when her herd was captured.  That was good news.  She wasn't going to be really wild.  She's been people around most her life.  She was just unhandled.  It was the same for the other mares.  All had spent the majority of their lives in holding pens.

       Once in the round pen, Rocio wandered about and had a meet and greet with some of our horses.  Juliane and Jon stood by watching:

              Juliane and John                   Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015


      Here she meets Elementa and Dolly:

   Rocio's Meet and Greet                               Ainslie Sheridan copyright 20115    


       Then Tica:

          Rocio Meeting Tica                              Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015


      On to the humans:  Here she is with Zoe:

    Rocio and Zoe                                                                      Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       
      And finally with the young, talented trainer who would make this all happen for her:

         Rocio and Juliane                                                               Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015

       Stay tuned for Part 3 of  "A Mustang Comes To Windflower" when Juliane starts her training in the round pen.

       See you soon, and thanks for reading "The Windflower Weekly."

                                            --Ainslie

LINKS YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://www.mustangheritagefoundation.org

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-An-Equestrian-Romance-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://windflowerfarmgiftsforani.smugmug.com

https://www.pinterest.com/Dollydressage

http://www.facebook.com/YonkersShelter

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

Sources:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://returntofreedom.org/

http://wildhorsepreservation.org/wild-horses-and-ecosystem

Looking for equine and pet related gifts?  Check out the photo pendants in my Etsy shop.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

http://www.cafepress.com/windflowerfarmgiftsforanimallovers

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-Equestrian-Romance-Ainslie-Sheridan-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

A Wyoming Mustang Comes To Windflower!

  Part One

        Some sixty years ago, with no money for riding lessons and parents who had little interest in my passion, the only way I could connect with my equine heroes was through books, and, of course, the miracle of modern television.  My favorite programs ran on Saturday and Sunday mornings.  Fortunately, my five brothers liked to sleep in.  Here's a short YouTube from the series My Friend Flicka, starring Johnny Washbrook as Ken, and Wahana, a fifteen-hand Arabian Hollywood called Flicka.  

                    



       These programs introduced me to Hollywood's version of the Wild West, and horses had the starring role.   Each episode, whether it was The Roy Rogers Show, My Friend Flicka, or Fury, was an episode in morality.  Life at my house was confusing, often psychically and physically dangerous, but these programs offered me a temporary if only partial emotional escape.  I could begin to believe that the evil I had to endure might not be my fault.  If your parent was an outlaw, or even murderer,  it didn't mean that you were, too.  I remember how Roy had to convince a gun-wielding boy to turn his bank robber father in.  He counseled the boy that he had a choice and that he needn't follow his father's example.  In an earlier blog I mentioned that I carried a yellow plastic ruler in the back pocket of my jeans.  Roy Rogers taught me the Golden Rule--that little six-inch measuring stick was my personal golden rule and traveled with me wherever I went, a constant reminder that I had to treat others as I wished to be treated.  

       
       Off screen, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans lived their on-screen values.  They adopted six children and worked tirelessly on behalf of children at risk through their Happy Trails Foundation.  
      
       So, what does all this have to do with mustangs?  Quite a bit. Through the late eighteenth century mustangs lived on the peripheries of the vast tracks of land so much of which would end up being checker-boarded by thousands of miles of barbed wire. And, similarly, the mustangs were often on the periphery of these weekend westerns.  In one, a mustang herd might be in need of protection from "the killers," men who seek to trap and sell the horses to slaughter.  This is how I learned the term "box canyon."   The killers would herd mustangs into a box canyon with three sides of sheer rock and then quickly set up a fence across the one open side.  In certain episodes a mustang stallion might come onto a ranch and steal some of its mares.  These things happened in real life.  In fact, they continue to this day though on a much smaller scale.

       Flicka, as the story line goes, is a mare from an untamable line of mustangs.  She is considered to be loco!  But Ken saves her life and an inseparable bond is created.  One series carried the name of its equine hero: Fury, King of the Wild Stallions was a mustang. In the opening few episodes we learn that he gave his heart to a boy named Joey Newton when Joey saved his life from an evil ranch hand.  That man had lashed Fury terribly with a bullwhip; Fury jumped out of the corral, knocked Joey unconscious in the action, and headed back out to the plains.  In the end Joey runs after Fury and saves his life.  Of course, in future episodes, Fury returns the favor multiple times.  Here's the YouTube of the introduction that I saw before each episode:









        How I longed to have a horse who could transport me to this kind of freedom and to these adventures.  I was sure that if I lived on a ranch out west then I, too, would be able to have such a bond with a wild horse.  If only my father was a rancher instead of a philosophy professor at a college in New York City.  (What was philosophy, anyway?)  Even as I came to understand that these humans and horses were actors, I still envied them.  Not only did they act in open western spaces and go to school right on the set, they were famous!

       Of course, no child viewer of these programs could fail to notice that the lead stars were never girls but always boys.  Dale Evans may have been called the "Queen of the West," but she was clearly Roy Rogers' backup.  Roy's golden stallion was named Trigger but Dale's horse, a buckskin, was Buttermilk.  Trigger did numerous tricks, but Buttermilk's repertoire was scant. Buttermilk was only able to untie Dale partially when she was being held by stagecoach robbers.  Roy's German Shepherd Bullet had to finish to job.

       The dialogue was often dismissively sexist.  I frequently heard, "Aw, you're just a girl"; "Girls can't do that"; "Go 'way, this ain't no job for a girl."  When a woman was trying to get a cowboy to do something for her, she would often lower her head and coyly state, "Of course, I'm just a poor, weak woman."  I coped with these limiting societal barbs by declaring myself a tomboy.  Every once in a while a series would have a rebellious, strong-minded girl determined to have her way, and sometimes--and it was just sometimes--she did.  Okay, better a tomboy than one of those girly girls evolving on my block.  Incredibly athletic, my good friend, eleven-year-old Sharon, suddenly, and inexplicably to me, started intentionally missing ground balls and striking out during the baseball games we held in a nearby vacant lot.  

      I have remained interested in mustangs.  Most people know these equines as the descendants of the Spanish conquistadores who ruled much of the western hemisphere.  The blood of the Lusitano, the Andalusian, Spanish barb and Jennet run through their veins. But most herds are not only derived from those breeds.  When farming became mechanized, many horses were simply turned out on the range.  And when the cavalry turned to tanks, their mounts were either turned loose or shot.  Percentages vary.  Some mustang herds have much more Spanish than others, while one herd in  Oregon--the Stinking Water Horse Management Area (!)--has more draft horse than anything else.  

       There is an ongoing debate regarding whether the American mustang is a wild animal or feral (a normally domesticated animal that has become wild).  If it is a wild animal it legally is deserving of more protection.  The subtext of all this is public land usage and the conflict between environmentalists who want cattle--they outnumber the mustang at least thirty to one--off the  open range. It is true that cattle are inherently more destructive to our public lands than mustangs.  First, as I mentioned, there are many more of them. Second, horses have upper and lower teeth and graze much a like a lawn mower.  They crop the grass in a way that permits it to continue growing.  Cattle, however, have no upper teeth.  They graze by wrapping their long tongues around grasses that, if they are growing in damp or wet soil, or are young and have an immature root system, the cattle can uproot entirely.  Additionally, cattle are ruminants, so plants and their seeds must go through three stomachs before their remains become a patty.  A horse has only one stomach, so many seeds remain viable as they move through, and finally out of, a horse's digestive tract.   A horse herd is simultaneously fertilizing and reseeding an area as it travels about.
Finally, horses range much farther from water sources than do cattle.  Cattle tend to camp out in a comparatively more confined area, often causing significant bank erosion and fouling the water.   Horses nibble and move on.  

       It is interesting to note that mustangs are more adept than cattle at handling harsh winter conditions.  They instinctively know to dig deep in the snow to uncover grasses, but cattle do not.  Often the cattle that survive a tough winter are the ones who have learned to follow mustangs and to consume the uncovered provisions the horses have left behind.  Sadly, climate disruption has led to even harsher winters and summer droughts.  In the past, mustangs managed to cope with inhospitable seasons but now they can't, not on this scale.  Additionally, while mustangs are adroit at finding food, shelter, and water, herds and family groups are often prevented in their efforts by stockade fencing, barbed wire, and the increased introduction of extraction industries like coal and natural gas and their accompanying road development.  It's common in some areas to see a family group of mustangs grazing on lawns or wandering between backyard pools and swing sets.  Some herds have begun to starve.  The Bureau of Land Management has been trying its best to capture the horses most in need and to ship them to facilities where they are fed, wormed, and vaccinated.

       The following is a beautiful clip of mustangs.  But notice how fences prevent them from going where they wish:

        I hope this entry has helped you to learn and understand more about the complex world the American mustang must navigate to survive.  Next week I will introduce you to the Extreme Mustang Makeover and how a little paint mustang mare named Rocio arrived here at Windflower Farm.

              Rocio                                                Ainslie Sheridan copyright 2015 



       I conclude this blog entry with Roy Rogers and Clint Black singing "Hold On Partner."  I couldn't find out who wrote the lyrics, but what I can say is that its message was frequently articulated and advanced by Roy, not only in this Saturday morning series, but in the live interviews and magazines I read for many years.  

       Thank you for reading the Windflower Weekly. 

        See you soon---- Ainslie
       

LINKS YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://www.mustangheritagefoundation.org

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-An-Equestrian-Romance-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://windflowerfarmgiftsforani.smugmug.com

https://www.pinterest.com/Dollydressage

http://www.facebook.com/YonkersShelter

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

Sources:

http://www.thecloudfoundation.org/

http://returntofreedom.org/

http://wildhorsepreservation.org/wild-horses-and-ecosystem

Looking for equine and pet related gifts?

https://www.etsy.com/shop/WINDFLOWERDIGITALART

http://www.cafepress.com/windflowerfarmgiftsforanimallovers

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kaleidoscope-pony-ainslie-sheridan/1114272809?ean=2940015948592

http://www.amazon.com/Trophies-Equestrian-Romance-Ainslie-Sheridan-ebook/dp/B00998J2B2