the Sage By Nature blog

Sage’s shelter crashes under the weight of heavy snowfall in the Pacific Northwest.

Sage is moved in with two geldings who have shelter under large fir trees – and each other.

Sometimes in the dance with your horse and nature, you must give up the reins and let your horse and nature take the lead.

This past couple of weeks has been a true test of how natural I am with my horse – and just what that means. The heavy snowfall saw Sage’s shelter crash one night from the weight of an unusually heavy winter snowfall (she was out in the pasture when the humans heard it creaking – she knew something was wrong) and she was moved into an arena adjacent to it. I had dreams of that crashing too, and perhaps she was afraid of that herself.

When the weakness of the structure was first noticed, Sage was placed temporarily in with two geldings that she was accustomed to from an adjacent pasture. Their shelter fell, too, and was roped off, but they have huge fir trees in their area to provide some escape from the elements. The barn owner was hesitant to keep her in with them, though, as she appeared to be being bossed around a bit too much by one of the geldings, so after a day Sage was taken away from them and put in the arena. When I was finally able to make it out to see her after a week, I found her wet from standing out in the cold rain to avoid being in the arena. She had not even eaten much of her breakfast and appeared very hungry. Better, in her mind I guess, to go wet and hungry than to stay in a big cave which might crash onto her at any moment.

When she saw me she walked back into the arena very, very slowly. Her tension was visible and palpable. I thought at first she might be physically hurt but I think she was simply making a huge effort to overcome her fear of the arena. The shelter had taken a final tumble the night before, just on the other side of the arena wall, and must have made a very frightening crash indeed.

When I got her out of the arena, I touched her all over and was pretty convinced she was cold, and she was definitely wet, so I let her dry a bit and put a waterproof sheet on her. Its times like this, I thought, that I am glad to have the blanket. Although I do not believe in blanketing horses year round or through the winter, an occasional set of circumstances like this deem a blanket (waterproof sheet) necessary, I thought.

I decided that being bossed around by the gelding was probably more comforting to her as a herd animal than being alone in the scary arena-cave. That was my gut feeling, and the barn owner was leaving it up to me as to where to put her until the shelter was fixed and re-built. However, I was going to let Sage take the lead and make that decision. Sage had been very afraid of these same geldings this past summer when we tried to put her in with them on seven acres of pasture. For the past two months, though, she had grown used to them in the next pasture when they were moved close to her.

She chose the boys over the arena, and I was none too surprised.

I pretty much knew what her answer would be since she was hanging out in the rain near the geldings anyway, away from a dry place (the arena) and even from her food left uneaten in the arena. Sure enough, she picked up her pace as we neared the gate to the geldings’ pasture, and when I let her through she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, of pent-up tension, that she was back where she belonged. Yes, she got bossed a bit again but no kicks or bites, just ears laid back, and she didn’t appear overly concerned about it. She knew her place among the three, and she isn’t one to argue about it. Neither was I. At that point, I could breathe a sigh of relief, the sigh that had been a week in coming. Sage was safe, and had company, and had a herd leader to take over protecting her. After knowing her for over seven years, I have become adept at reading her emotions – and when she is content, then I can be content. The barn owner even told me that when Sage was in with the geldings, her poop piles were very firm and normal – the best barometer of Sage’s stress level.

My original thankfulness at having a blanket on hand, though, turned to dismay today when I was out again. In just two days the too-small blanket had rubbed an area of her shoulders down to her skin, and she appeared stiff probably from restricted movement. So I put her in the arena and she rolled in the dirt about 6 times, itchy and sore I am sure, overcoming her two-day-earlier fear of the giant cave. I may possibly still go out and buy a bigger blanket to have for emergencies – like sickness or colic – but I probably would have been better off by leaving Sage un-blanketed and she would have (hopefully) dried under the trees and been warmer by nightfall. When I saw her I kept remembering the words of Joe Camp in his writings and book, and other articles that I have read, but nonetheless its not an easy decision when you are standing there confronted with a tense, wet, cold horse that you love dearly, and I confess that in the end I caved into the accepted notion that horses need blankets at times. One that she hadn’t grown out of would have been better, to be sure, but I am not so sure now that she needed one.
I have seen so, so many problems for horses with blankets coming off, broken straps, rubbed body areas, etc, that I have just about had my fill of blankets. Its something a lot of people have opinions about, too, so after this experience I am even more firm about my own opinion – Mother Nature knows best, and she didn’t develop a magnificent animal like the horse which is unable to withstand winter and a little (well, this year a lot of) snow in the Pacific Northwest. The part that got me was that she had rain all over her back so she was wet, and her shelter would be trees and not her normally dry area, but had I not panicked I would have remembered scenes of wild horses out in the elements with their back to the wind and huddled together. No stalls or lean-to shelters around. Horses don’t need metal shoes nailed on their feet either but those are sold and promoted, and we are led to believe – yes, convinced – that those are necessary as well.

I myself will be leaving my horse naked.