susanne
dB
This weekend we took Mingus horsecamping at Long Beach, Washington. As usual, we stayed at the Peninsula Saddle Club, but for once we arrived before dark. We had our choice of corrals and selected one clean of manure and old hay and without dangerously deep holes.
Mingus had actually stayed in the same corral in a previous year, along with other minis. We put him in, Keith filled his bucket with water and I grabbed some hay. I evidently took too long, however, because Mingus tilted his head and stuck it through the pipe gate to steal a mouthful. Once his head was through, he tilted it back upright and promptly discover he was stuck and began to jerk back -- there was no way he was getting out with his head held straight.
I was terrified he would break his neck, but fought to stay calm and put my arm around his neck. Luckily, Mingus is very trusting and willing to let us get him out of predicaments, and as I spoke softly to him, he stopped struggling and relaxed. I kept my arm around his neck as Keith gently turned his head and freed him. The only injury was to my finger that got in between his jaw and the pipe as they parted ways, but I was grateful to feel only that pain.
We found that the corrals on the other side had much wider spacing between bars, and Mingus now had no interest in sticking his head through, but I was thoroughly traumatized and could not leave him in any of the pens. We ended up taking him back to our campsite, and he slept in his van stall while Keith and I slept in the not-so-comfy captain's chairs (that don't tilt back due to the bulkhead divider). Normally we convert our van from horse hauler to clean, dry camper, but not this time.
Our sleep was fitful, due to sitting upright, worries about what could have happened, and the sounds and smells of sleeping right next to our horse, but I was happy for every sound he made that night.
The rest of our weekend was great fun, and Mingus discovered the joy of pulling the cart through tidepools, and sending Keith flying out of the cart at one unplanned sudden turn (I told him to hang on...). The only casualty of the spill was, literally, the spilling of my latte, which I had just handed off to Keith.
Instead of the usual beach driving group, this was, due to work schedules, Nationals, weather and other conflicts, just Keith, Mingus and me. Liz (Nootka), her boys Brandon and Colton, and a friend's son dropped by Friday night; Daryl (BigDogsLittleHorses) met up with us Saturday (after confusion over meeting time and beach accesses); and my sister joined us on Sunday.
Along with racing down the beach and calling to seagulls, Mingus discovered barrel racing and pole bending in the campsite arena. He had so many admirers, both on the beach and from other horse campers. We also accidentally participated in the annual Long Beach Rod Run -- a weekend-long cruise of classic cars down the main drag. Included with the hot rods, jalopies, low riders, vintage autos, and 60s muscle cars was one big, white Chevy Express van with a mini inside and two doofuses up front. What were we to do but smile and wave?
Our drive back home was delayed by construction on the Astoria bridge, so instead we drove on the north side of the Columbia River and took the tiny (11-car) ferry from Puget Island to the Oregon side, so chalk another new experience up for Mingus!
But back to my warning: PLEASE BEWARE of pipe gates and fences! Make certain they either cannon get their heads through at all, or else the pipes are far enough apart to be safe. I still shiver whenever I think of this, and now have a "gate plan" for future trips.
Mingus had actually stayed in the same corral in a previous year, along with other minis. We put him in, Keith filled his bucket with water and I grabbed some hay. I evidently took too long, however, because Mingus tilted his head and stuck it through the pipe gate to steal a mouthful. Once his head was through, he tilted it back upright and promptly discover he was stuck and began to jerk back -- there was no way he was getting out with his head held straight.
I was terrified he would break his neck, but fought to stay calm and put my arm around his neck. Luckily, Mingus is very trusting and willing to let us get him out of predicaments, and as I spoke softly to him, he stopped struggling and relaxed. I kept my arm around his neck as Keith gently turned his head and freed him. The only injury was to my finger that got in between his jaw and the pipe as they parted ways, but I was grateful to feel only that pain.
We found that the corrals on the other side had much wider spacing between bars, and Mingus now had no interest in sticking his head through, but I was thoroughly traumatized and could not leave him in any of the pens. We ended up taking him back to our campsite, and he slept in his van stall while Keith and I slept in the not-so-comfy captain's chairs (that don't tilt back due to the bulkhead divider). Normally we convert our van from horse hauler to clean, dry camper, but not this time.
Our sleep was fitful, due to sitting upright, worries about what could have happened, and the sounds and smells of sleeping right next to our horse, but I was happy for every sound he made that night.
The rest of our weekend was great fun, and Mingus discovered the joy of pulling the cart through tidepools, and sending Keith flying out of the cart at one unplanned sudden turn (I told him to hang on...). The only casualty of the spill was, literally, the spilling of my latte, which I had just handed off to Keith.
Instead of the usual beach driving group, this was, due to work schedules, Nationals, weather and other conflicts, just Keith, Mingus and me. Liz (Nootka), her boys Brandon and Colton, and a friend's son dropped by Friday night; Daryl (BigDogsLittleHorses) met up with us Saturday (after confusion over meeting time and beach accesses); and my sister joined us on Sunday.
Along with racing down the beach and calling to seagulls, Mingus discovered barrel racing and pole bending in the campsite arena. He had so many admirers, both on the beach and from other horse campers. We also accidentally participated in the annual Long Beach Rod Run -- a weekend-long cruise of classic cars down the main drag. Included with the hot rods, jalopies, low riders, vintage autos, and 60s muscle cars was one big, white Chevy Express van with a mini inside and two doofuses up front. What were we to do but smile and wave?
Our drive back home was delayed by construction on the Astoria bridge, so instead we drove on the north side of the Columbia River and took the tiny (11-car) ferry from Puget Island to the Oregon side, so chalk another new experience up for Mingus!
But back to my warning: PLEASE BEWARE of pipe gates and fences! Make certain they either cannon get their heads through at all, or else the pipes are far enough apart to be safe. I still shiver whenever I think of this, and now have a "gate plan" for future trips.
