Saturday, August 31, 2013

heat wave

Up early but still ended up riding in 108 degree heat after well-meant direction to a place that at one time had water and usable pens, but had since been abandoned.





I had used up the last of our water, expecting a camping spot with a well. We were dry. 1:00 in the afternoon. Nothing but fields and empty roads for miles around.





Climbed fences, braved guard donkeys, trespassed, anything to get water... will write more later.

Happily, ended up at Joe and Kris K.'s place north of a cotton gin. They welcomed us without a second thought. Walter in pen, me in house, we both need rest and will stay here an extra day.

Friday, August 30, 2013

lonely stretch ahead

in Tipton OK rodeo grounds. No idea where we will stay between here
and Altus. Desolate, Cant tether Walter need pen complicates things.
On wing & a prayer for sure.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Manitou OK

Made it all the way here - way farther than expected, 17 miles - cuz nowhere to
stop in between. At barn & pens of Billy & Shirley B.





A Holstein calf is in love w/Walter. after running back & forth trying to get him to play, lying in grass across fence staring dreamily while mule grazes.





Wednesday, August 28, 2013

saving phone battery

might not be able to charge phone tomorrow and a few nights coming
week. Posts will be short and sporadic.

Camped out by penned Walter courtesy of Ms. Dovey. Hay, feed, dinner,
shower courtesy of Sheri and Jim.

10 miles, quiet road, good day.











Tuesday, August 27, 2013

cool morning good day

low signal short post.
8 miles still south of Lawton. Walter in round pen me camped on lawn
home of kindly rancher Jack P., thanks to scouting of Judy A. Early
start early stop. Afternoon lunch & helping Mr P. around ranch, dinner
w/ Judy and Jim wonderful day.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Catching up to the present

Thursday 8/22:
Sandra J. and family are that rare breed - ranchers and farmers who do nothing but ranch and farm their own land. No day jobs, no outside work. This is their life.

Over a bountiful homemade-sausage-pancakes-from-scratch-scrambled-eggs breakfast, Ms. Sandra and her two sons John and David helped me plot a route straight across their property to the county line. Not only would it be a welcome respite from road riding - it would also shave about three miles.
Turns out it didn't shave off any time, but the experience was worth every bit of daylight.

The route was about 5 miles meandering across rolling grass pasture dotted with several livestock ponds and small dry creeks, stands of trees, several freshly plowed wheat fields, and one large running creek. Once Walter got over the shock of being out in the middle of nowhere with no other company but cows, he settled in and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it (except the wheat fields we were told to ride through because there was no way around; difficult footing). We stopped at each pond. Walter drank from the ones he didn't have to share with nearby cattle. (Apparently, Sir Walter finds staring cattle too distracting.) I drank every drop from my water bottles and wished I had more. We sweated.We got lost. Son John spotted us and steered us back on track. We found a shallow spot in the big creek and Walter forded it in style. We passed a dead cow. We finally made our way to the county line road, through the gate and back to asphalt.

Where are the photos, you say? Alas - the batteries in my cheap little camera had died again, so there are none. Bummer. It was peacefully beautiful, take my word for it.

We turned west again on a farm road, at a corner with a small white house and barking chained dogs. A young horse - really still a colt - began chasing us along the fence. About a half mile up it came through an ungated opening and joined us. I rode all the way back to the house at a trot, the colt running behind neighing. Man came out, yup it's his, a rescue from bankrupt neighbors who had abandoned their herd, he hadn't put a gate up yet, sorry. Walter was so balky at leaving the colt behind that I had to trot him about a mile to settle him down.

It was getting late in the afternoon. Hot. This road was empty of all human habitation as far as the eye could see. No creeks or roadside runoff to drink. I began worrying about Walter.

Finally - horses! Pens! Barn! House! Rode up the driveway, tied Walter and knocked on the back door to ask if I could water him. A very surprised-looking gentleman opened the door, followed my gesture at Walter with his eyes, and a huge grin slowly spread over his face. "Why, sure!"

Then, hesitantly, I asked if there were more houses up the road. "Nope, nothing for about 10 miles." (Later, he told me he was shocked by the knock on the door because they never have any traffic, much less visitors.) I asked if we could camp... yes, of course, put him in that pen, and would you like to come to a roping tonight? Come on in when you're ready and have a bite to eat!

And so I met Tim and Bonnie V. Bonnie is a vivacious woman who has a job giving people money. ("They aren't always happy about it, you'd be surprised.") Tim was a paint-horse breeder who bred several champion horses, then had a life-changing medical incident. He came back from it and still has a few roping horses. We talked a long time about life changes, will power and other things... it was a good stay.

Friday 8/23
It was, in fact, 10 miles to our next stop. We got a late start - much too late in the day for Walter, it turned out. I did not have the packs well balanced the day before. They kept listing to one side. As always happens when I mess up on packing, my mule let me know exactly what he thought of my poor job the day before. He fussed, he turned, I had to hobble him to get him to stand still. Using a broken digital scale, I weighed and repacked and reweighed over and over. We set off down the driveway at 11 am. I was relieved to see Walter tank up at the water trough just before leaving. The sun was blazing, humidity was crushing and we were both sweating before we even hit the road. I had filled both liter bottles to have something to give Walter if needed.

It was needed. I gave it to him only an hour later, and he emptied the bucket. A few miles up we stopped at a lone house where a woman with the intriguing name "Clentis" (hope I got that right?) gave us a drink. Partway to Geronimo we came to a little cluster of houses. A fat palomino ran up to a gate. A cable truck was parked in the drive next to the pasture, and the front door was open inside the screen. There was a hose attached to a spigot in the yard. I tied Walter to the pasture gate and walked up, knocked, hearing voices. A large, unsmiling man answered the door.

"Yeah?"

I smiled gamely. I gestured at the large animal tied to the gate.

"Hi,  excuse me, I'm riding cross country, could I please trouble you for some water for my mule?"

He stared for a moment at Walter.

"No."

Stunned, I sputtered "Wha..."

"NO!"

The man shut the door in my face.

I rode away, shaking a little, wondering what on earth must have happened to cause a human to be so broken that they would refuse water to a thirsty animal.

Shortly after, Walter let me know just how hot, tired, and thirsty he was. I stopped to let him graze in a lush patch of grass. Next thing I know, I'm going down... my mule's knees are buckling... he's gonna roll! I jerked his head up with a sharp "WALTER!!" and he instantly sprang back up. We moved on. About 20 minutes later, I let him graze again - hoping there was moisture in the grass - and he tried it again. Now I'm not amused, I'm concerned. This is totally out of character. I'm thinking dehydration...colic...

We're on New Hope Road approaching the outskirts of Geronimo now. Houses. Someone turns in to the driveway of a modern brick house on an exquisitely well-manicured lawn of at least an acre. A woman opens her car door to get mail. I wave, she waves. I ride up and ask about water. Next thing I know, her husband is unrolling the hose and I'm removing Walter's packs and saddle at her invitation. (These are not horse people. She just thought he looked hot.) Under their friendly gaze, after a long drink Walter rolls, I hose him off, he rolls again, then grazes happily while he dries off.

This was not a suitable place to stay, so they suggested the sheriff who lived just up the hill. Walter seemed quite content to be packed and ridden again after his long break. We turned in the sheriff's drive, seeing several vehicles and signs of life. There were goats and empty horse pens. I dismounted.

RAWR-RAWR-RAWR-RAWR-RAWR!
a snarling dog came roaring out of nowhere, fangs bared, charging at me. In fear, I tried to leap back into the saddle. The dog lunged at us. Walter panicked, I felt the lead torn from my hand as I hit the asphalt hard and heard hooves clattering away. I forgot all about the dog behind me, my focus on a frightened mule running down the middle of a road. The dog's menacing barks faded - he miraculously didn't bite - as I slowed myself down to a walk and went after Walter. I called to Walter mule and he turned, waiting for me. I held up my hand to stop an approaching truck. Walter let me take his lead and stroke his face gently as the truck drove by. I mounted and we moved on.

Sun getting low... no place that looks promising... we cross a bridge over a deep ravine (turned out to be Cache Creek running below), pass a house screened by trees and a young man with a gun over his shoulder emerges at the driveway, waving us down. In a friendly voice he reassures us it's just a BB gun and asks if we're travelling. When I tell him yes and from where, he laughs with delight and asks if we need a place for the night. He runs back to the house and the whole family emerges: the young man (who introduces himself as David), David's sister Cherish, her husband Elton, and the kids Ember, Jaden and Gabe. After walking the property I determine there is no place safe to let Walter loose and he'll need to be tethered, no way around it. The best place is the chain-link-fenced front yard. It has space, grass and I can pitch my tent. Cherish suggests I sleep on the trampoline, what a fabulous idea! The kids romp around cheerfully, asking lots of questions and feeding Walter peaches. The 3 dogs run around his feet barking but are harmless. Cherish and David drive off in search of hay, what hospitality! They actually find a bale at about 8 pm on a Friday night. Couldn't believe it. So, we are all chatting out in the yard. I have put single hobbles on each of Walter's hind legs in hopes of protecting his pasterns from the rope. I considered the possibility of the rope getting caught under a hobble but put my concern aside. I see Walter getting a bit jittery with all the noise and activity, but again, since he is still for the most part dealing well, don't give it much thought. I turn my back to him, saying something to David. Suddenly I hear shrieks and screams from the kids and David looks past me yelling, "Whoa, Walter! Whoa!"

I turn and there's Walter, eyes rolling in panic, trying to kick loose the tether that's wrapped and caught under his left hobble.

I get him loose, remove the hobble, and in the half-darkness of evening can plainly see a huge rope burn. On the left hind foot that just took six weeks to heal.

Upshot of it was, I moved Walter to a side area, cleaned and bandaged the wound, tied him up short and sat up in the tent most of the night watching him. But in the morning when I unwrapped, turned out the burn was not nearly as dire as it appeared in the semidarkness of the evening before. It was large but appeared to be all on the surface. No swelling, little heat. So after being treated to another wonderful hot breakfast of pancakes and sausage, we were off, Walter's foot bandaged to keep it clean. I determined we'd make it as short a day as possible and find a place to lay over for a day or two while I doctored the burn. After his first four days back on the road, Walter was due a rest anyway.

Saturday 8/24
We had spent Friday night on the banks of Cache Creek, only a mile and a half from the city limits of Geronimo. (We travelled 10 miles on Friday. Walter tried to go down at about mile 8. That told me the limits of his conditioning right now - he'll need short days in this heat for a while.) Geronimo is so named, I assume, because Geronimo was buried at nearby Fort Sill... though rumors abound that the body is no longer there. The road ran along the southern edge of the little town. I asked some workmen we came upon if they knew of a store that might carry 1st aid supplies. They said there were only two stores in town. One of the men phoned the convenience store just ahead to see what they had, and directed me there. As we approached Rob and Wendy's Store we passed a house with an empty corral.
outskirts of Geronimo

A tall, genial man who turned out to be Rob of "Rob and Wendy's" met us at the front, filled a bucket with water, and watched Walter while I went inside. In the store I met Rob's wife, the equally tall and genial Wendy. Wendy went in a back room and came out with all sorts of gauze, bandages, etc. which she proceeded to toss in with the drink I bought, gratis. "We had it laying around." Back outside, Rob stood holding Walter's lead; Walter had fussed when I left and pulled down the [loose] metal pole he was tied to. Rob was cheerfully unfazed. Wendy came out, and I told them I needed a place to doctor my mule for two days, and did they know anything about the folks next door with the corral?

Rob raised his eyebrows at Wendy as I spoke and he interrupted with, "How about our place?" Followed by much rapid back-and-forth discussion between the two of them as to which neighbor could take Walter, as they did not have a pasture or pen. Wendy went back inside the store, a phone call was made, and in minutes Walter was lined up with a lush five-acre pasture complete with pond, while I was invited to pitch my tent outside the pasture or sleep over at Rob and Wendy's next door.




I rode Walter across the bridge over Hwy 44 to Michelle and James' pasture, where Walter was made welcome with fresh water and much fussing.



 
At Rob and Wendy's blessedly laid-back house I was invited to shower, do laundry, settle in and make yourself at home, we'll be back later don't let the cat out... and in the afternoon met grandpa Frank and talented daughter Alicia (busy creating an elaborate costume for an Anime fest).

That evening over dinner, I found out my Long Rider friend Sea and her sometimes-riding-companion Gryph had stopped at the same store last year on their way east, and Rob and Wendy had found them and their ponies a place to stay for the night.

I tell you, there is a place in Long Rider heaven for trail angels like these folks. Not only am I deeply grateful to them, but I love the old tradition they are keeping alive of helping out riders passing through, strangers and their horses or mules... kind of like there used to be liveries, inns with stables. Places where news would be exchanged and stories told. I can see those days coming again, replacing the information highway, some strange new combination of old travel and future world - who knows? Walter and I, we'll be ready for whatever comes... walking along serenely amongst the changes, bearing witness.

In the meantime, for today, my only concern is Walter. He's healing up well. The burn looked almost all skinned over, no oozing, until I put Vetrycin on it last night. This morning it was all oozing again and looking bubbly and reddish but I think it's just the Vetrycin eating away the top layer of scab and it'll be fine. There's no heat, swelling or lameness. I'm even considering leaving late this afternoon if we have a place expecting us 6 miles from here. We'll see.

From here we head west and then north to Altus, our next rest stop.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

no phone= no post

No phone signal past few nights. Quick note to say after riding
across J. ranch, that night Walter in pen while I went to a team
roping, next night with good folks next to Cache Creek, am now just
west of Geronimo OK, where Walter has an overgrown pasture with pond all to himself for 2 days.

Too beat to write more tonight. Will post more tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

yay birthday!

A happy birthday - got my wish - we're back on the road again!
Tacking up in the back pasture
Farewell my friend - we'll see each other again

Bittersweet goodbyes to Linda & family. Late start, hot hot sun.
Walter steppin out, so many drivers waving and smiling.Loooong lunch
break under tree at a crossroads. Nice man stopped to talk, ended up
directing us to J. ranch where we are guests tonight, of gracious Ms
Sandra. Even homemade banana pecan ice cream!

Short ride, 7 miles, full packs, Walter handled it well. Felt so good
to be once again homeward bound on a mule... on Walter mule... *with*
Walter mule.

Tonight, offered bed but chose to camp out under the full moon next to
the grassy arena that is Sir Walter's pen for the night. I can hear
him now, grazing near the tent. Crickets droning. Smell of earth, kiss
of wind.


Monday, August 19, 2013

papers in order

Rode Sir Walter to the Chisholm Trail Animal Hospital today. He got
his fall shots and a new Health Certificate. Thank you Dr. Kerri
Darbonne!

happy feet

Rode Walter the 4+ mile loop w/ nearly full packs, testing the
drilltec shoes. For the first time (while shod) he didn't slide at all
on asphalt. Woohoo!
 


Walter's favorite stop on the practice rides...

view from his back - corner store at 1 mile
 

Makes Walter's wonderful stride a bit shorter and choppier, though,
since the grip doesn't let his feet slide. I suspect that's just a
temporary thing and he'll be back to his old smooth glide as soon as
he adjusts.

We're both restless now. Walter hangs out by the gate even when TK is
far off in the back pasture.
 
I hang out by the gate, watching him graze...

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Walter gets cleats

You know those athletic shoes with cleats on them? Walter got
something like that today.

The farrier I finally found said Walter's shoes were barely worn.
(Walter got injured less than a week after he was last shod, so not
surprising.) So he pulled the shoes, did a little trim, then welded 3
pieces of drilltek on each shoe. Drilltek is a diamond-hard metal
alloy of some kind. It will give Walter traction on hard surfaces like
paved roads.

Then the shoes were reset on mule feet. Walter got the rest of the day off.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Thursday & Friday notes

No post last night because Linda got an emergency call about a downed
colt. When we got there the baby was back up, vet arrived, was colic,
after couple hours colt was ok.

During day I had ridden Walter another 4+ miles in heavier packs.

Today added weight and the cantle bag with tent in it. Only 3-1/2
miles, stopped for long talk with a couple out in their yard,
mule-owning neighbors.

Walter gets new shoes tomorrow...and a day off.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

superstition

I've been chided by several folks lately for slacking off on posting
daily updates to the blog. As one put it,"Couldn't you at least write
a few sentences a day, like when you were travelling?"

Yup, I could, and I'll try to start doing just that.

I have a confession to make, though. After all the
delays and setbacks, I've become superstitious. Reporting on Walter's
progress, making any public comment about when or if we'll be back out
there, makes me nervous. But I'll post a little something each day,
probably "just the facts, ma'am" for now.

So: Last nite tested new tent. Comfortable and dry. Just need practice
setting it up. Today rode Walter 4 easy practice miles with light
packs. Tried him on a single-foot tether, he handled it well.



More tomorrow...

mail drop through 8/19

I can recieve mail through Monday 8/19 at this address:

K. Cooper
c/o Moore Massage Therapy
918 W. Willow Ave.
Duncan, OK 73533

Friends can deliver late mail to me on the road for a day or two after that.

Thanks!

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Friday night - bringing the human back down to earth

By Friday night, I had worked myself into a woefully piteous state. Standing at the door of the camper, staring into the darkness nursing a whopping case of dramatic despair worthy of any 16-year-old, I had an "I-just-want-to-be-with-my-mule" moment.

My friends, beware such moments. Just because you want to be with your mule, does not mean your mule wants to be with you.

Under the dim light and dark shadows of a quarter moon, I clambered over the gate and picked my way down a trodden path along the pasture fence. Where o where has my mulie gone? Aha! There he was, a darker larger shadow moving against the deep blackness of the far pasture. I softly called his name, just loud enough for long ears to hear. Walter, Walter... Come comfort me...

Now, mules like routine. They are not overfond of things being out of place. Such as their human, normally known to visit during the day and leave the pasture at night, suddenly showing up - in the middle of the night - in the darkness - with not even a feed bucket - in a part of the pasture normally reserved for equines - this is cause for deep suspicion. Something must be wrong.

Instead of walking right up to me, Walter made a wide circle, checking out all of the surroundings on his way for aliens and other nefarious characters. He finally tiptoed up. Then he tucked his big head into my armpit, his body quivering nervously. [Warning: Beware a nervous mule.] I stroked his muzzle and pressed my forehead against his with a sigh. Ah, my little longeared partner.

Suddenly Walter startled at something behind him, threw his head around, and -

WHAM!!

I'm on my behind, blood exploding out of my snout like a fountain. A flurry of legs goes by as I struggle to stand. I lean far over with my back to the fence, trying not to get blood all over my clothes.
"Walter, you little #*!!#, aaagh, you BROKE my NOSE!"

Just then I feel myself get goosed. I leap forward, swing around -
There's TK the mare. She'd just nipped me in the butt.

This indignity, mind you, after spooking Walter into whacking me in the nose.

I stomped back to the camper, all romantic despair and warm fuzzies vanished. The only iced item in the trailer was a package of frozen chicken tenders.

Remember the last post? How I mentioned getting a haircut and pretties on Thursday so that, as a friend put it, "you'll feel good about yourself"? (Not that I felt bad, but others might have felt bad on my behalf.)

Well, there I sat, a wad of cotton stuck up each nostril and a bag of frozen chicken tenders on my nose and fat lip, thinking "Hmmm, the best-laid plans..." BUT, at least I had a good haircut to offset the prizefighter look!

As it turned out, it wasn't broken, just real bruised inside, and the swelling is already almost gone. Kinda like my ego. Ha!





Sunday, August 11, 2013

Friday 8/09 - setback

The thursday night storm never materialized. It rained some, a bit of wind,
distant thunder and attendant flashes lighting up the clouds, but
nothing like the previous night's
spectacular show.

Woke to a nice cool morning. Perfect day for a ride. Walter brayed
anxiously from his pen the minute I stepped out of the camper. Then he
disappeared from view - pacing, I was sure, since TK was on the other
side of the shed. I grabbed a small flake of hay to keep him busy
while I had my coffee. When I went to toss it over the fence, sure
enough, there he was tracking back and forth compulsively, looking for
the mare.

Step to the right...












Step to the left...



















After breakfast I brought Walter out and tied him to the post for his
morning groom and grain before saddling up. First part of the grooming
is routine doctoring of what's left of his cuts - now just one small
scab.

I ran my hand down his left hind leg. Wait a minute...

Swelling. Heat. His entire ankle, the pastern and
joint, was inflamed again. Damn, damn, damn.

Apparently Walter had spent most of the night pacing back and forth,
twisting his healing ankle with each turn. I knew he'd walk the fence
- how could I have been so stupid?

I hosed his foot for 20 minutes, doctored it and turned my neurotic
little mule out to pasture. I watched him amble off, furious at myself
and consumed with guilt.

find your partner, doe-see-doe

I spent all day watching Walter for any signs of lameness (there were
none), morosely contemplating what this setback might say about his
ability to handle the rigors of the road.

(As it turned out, the inflammation took two days to go down, but it
did go down, and Walter and I were able to ride out again on Sunday
morning.)

Thursday 8/08 - storm

A violent thunderstorm blew in about 1:00 in the morning. Huge wind
gusts shaking the camper nearly off its jacks, torrential rain,
earsplitting thunder and more lightning in one spot than I think I've
ever seen in my life. One bolt struck the old utility pole 50 feet
from my trailer, exploding the wood with a deafening boom.

Needless to say I was awake. I sat in the dark at the front windows,
terrified for my mule, straining to see Walter through the downpour
every time lightning illuminated the pasture.

I wasn't so concerned about TK because her pasture has lots of
windbreaks and a covered shed, should choose to use it. Walter's lot
is on a slight rise, with a lone tree in the far NW corner being the
only shelter.

Darkness, darkness. No Walter.

Suddenly I heard a boyish voice, clear as a bell:

"Mom, I'm all right."

I jerked up with a start. A few minutes later the wind ceased and rain
quieted to a few light drops. I opened the camper door. A streak of
lightning lit up the yard and there, by the gate, stood Walter. Calm
as could be.

Thursday is an 8 hour day at the office for both Linda and me. I
didn't get a ride in after work because Linda had to go buy a bunch of
stuff in preparation for leaving for a 3-day weekend retreat.
We both concurred I was way overdue for some kind of personal grooming
improvement, so while Linda went shopping at WallyWorld I got a
haircut and a bit of other girly embellishment.

I mention this only because it was pretty funny in light of what
happened Friday. More about that later.

Another severe storm was predicted for Thursday night. Before Linda
left that evening, I moved Walter into the pen. I know he only
tolerates it when TK is grazing next to the fence panels, and paces
whenever she leaves, but
I figured it was still better than the exposed pasture in a lightning storm.

I was wrong.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

prep day 5

Worked up to riding Walter 4.25 miles today.

I know the milage because the farm roads here are laid out on a grid,
exactly one mile apart. Quite handy for conditioning regimen purposes.

Walter did great, even trotting and loping a bit. It was hot but he
only sweated under the saddle blanket. Tonight his foot is good, no
heat or swelling.
I'm getting desperate to find a farrier, though. Cant believe nobody
seems to know any! Except the one guy most locals use, who says he
wont do mules.
With this much trouble finding a mule farrier, I hate to think how
hard it might be to find one who has borium and knows how to weld it
on. In the meantime Walt's hooves
are getting longer and longer...

Yet how great to have that be my only concern!
Considering only 10 days ago, I was resigned to this ride likely being
over and simply praying for little Sir Walter to heal up sound.

Now there he is out at pasture, rolling and playing after a good day's ride.

Makes a person smile.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Walter's spa day / progress report

Rode Walter 20 minutes Saturday... he seemed surprised as we headed out of the yard, stumbled a lot (definitely time for the farrier...) and his stride didn't feel smooth til about the last 5 minutes. However, next morning he was none the worse for wear... no swelling, no heat in the pastern.
 
Sunday, 30 minutes, maybe mile and 3/4. Walter was eager to get out, but was he ever fresh! Every little bird and bush was an opportunity to play "let's spook." He skidded on asphalt, stumbled some on the way out but was completely sure-footed going home. (Hah! Of course.)
 
When we got back, it was hot-hot-hot so I decided to treat little Brave Sir Walter to a bath. Baby shampoo and Mane & Tail detangler. Never having soaped him up before, wasn't sure how he'd react to the hose and suds.
 
He loved it.
 
 
You can't tell from Walter's expression, but he was half-dozing.
 

Rinse process begun... mule drooling with delight



This morning, no swelling, no heat. Woohoo! And this time, Walter was not only happy to get out, but he didn't stumble at all and was back to his comfortable swaying gait. (Still, time for the farrier...) I suspect he had simply temporarily forgotten how to carry a rider. We rode about 2 miles today.
 
Right now plan is, when Walter is back in condition, to ride on as far as New Mexico. I think we can handle the northern part of west Texas in September. I know once we cross the New Mexico line, I'll feel like I'm home.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Walter clears vet check!

Thursday, Walter surprised me out in the pasture by responding to a slap on the rump (he was in my way) with a leap to the side, a few playful bucks and an explosion of energy - taking off in a dead run to the far corner. TK ran to meet him, they bucked at each other over the fence, and Walter spent the next 10 minutes careening around the field, sliding to a stop over and over in front of TK where he'd toss his head, pitch a few kicks and take off bucking and farting again, trying to get the lazy mare to play. Obviously, our boy was feeling better!

Yesterday we took him to the vet to look over his cut foot, his sore hip, the soles of his hooves, etc. Pretty much a general "how's the prognosis?" checkup.

Prognosis:

Walter's barbed-wire wounds: "Pretty much healed. The scar goes around, the wire trapped his whole foot? [raised eyebrows] You are lucky."
The sore hip: "Must've pulled a muscle. No sign of soreness now."
The stiff front shoulder: "No sign of lameness."
Hoof soles sloughing off: "Totally normal. Those hooves look great."

Now, a cautious note... since the vet examined Walter in the restraining stocks ("Is he a good mule?" as he let me be the one to pick up Walter's left hind) I'm a little puzzled as to how he could tell how my mule was moving. But never mind that -

Walter has been declared "good to go"!

I was advised to start conditioning in tiny steps... 20 minutes riding, if Walter is stocked up (swollen) the next day, give him a few more days off, try again. Then take it from there, adding time and weight each day. Pretty much common sense and what I had planned once I was assured he was pain-free and the wounds were healed.

I'll update the blog on Walter's progress. In the meantime, now it's get the maps back out, order yet another tent, a longer tether, wrestle with question of a pack animal, and in general get ready to hit the road later this month.

And send up thanks, thanks, eternal thanks for healing my little red mule.