of horseback riding. Growing up on Spaghetti Westerns, I had often fantasized about toting dual revolvers, whipping and firing them into the air as I charged into battle on a brazen steed. But lo, to my deep shame, I had never even come within close proximity to one of the majestic beasts whose steadfast strength gave rise to the empires of old.
Not being of Amish stock or coming from a familia with an equestrian predisposition, I had previously never been clever enough to devise an excuse to amend my pitiable lack of Equidae experience. Thus when the opportunity arose to head to the rolling hills of southeastern Chenango County and help out Rebecca Rasmussen in the daily management of her full care equine boarding facility, I gleefully jumped on it. Becca’s 130-acre facility, dubbed October Glory Acres LLC, is situated on County Road 37 in Guilford and celebrated its one year anniversary last month, on Oct. 1.
Upon arriving, Becca gave me a cursory run through of her very busy day. Turns out running a full care boarding facility is hard work, and a 24/7 job.
The first item on our to do list was to empty Becca’s manure spreader. This chore entailed me one, watching Becca hook the wagon up to her tractor, two, sitting on the side of her tractor, and three, clinging for dear life as Becca maneuvered us around one of her fields, trailing a steaming line of poop behind us.
After emptying the wagon, we set about filling it up again with the horse droppings proliferating their stalls – a daily task, I might add. I used a rack to pick up the horse dung, sifting out the salvageable saw dust and dumping the remains into a wheel barrow. I was fairly surprised at the lack of smell; if I were to close my eyes, I would not have even been able to tell I was standing amidst a pile of poo.
Once the wheelbarrow had reached capacity, I clumsily maneuvered it up a hand width board, dumping the load onto the manure spreader. When the stalls were feces free, we spread fresh saw dust and refilled the horse’s water buckets.
Becca has an interesting take on horse care. She is interested in being as naturalistic as possible. Nothing extreme though, just little things really, like having the horse water buckets elevated to a height more natural for them to drink from.
As a treat for helping with the cleanup, Becca promised to roost me on the back of one of her horses. We traveled out to the edge of the pasture where Becca keeps her own personal horses separate from the rest of the boarding horses.
Bearing four baskets of oats, Becca summoned her hoofed companions to her side. In response, the pasture remained resolutely barren of horse. Becca huffed indignantly and marched off after them, returning moments later leading an elegant dark bay with a white star below its forelock. The rest of the herd trotted after the pair, heads bobbing up and down, forming a strangely affectionate vanguard.
Becca introduced the dark bay as Ziva, and I almost lost it when I got to pet her. Ziva, a 7 year old thoroughbred mare, stands at 15.3 hands. In the past, she was used as a race horse and won $60,000 on the track, Becca proudly reported, adding Ziva is also for sale or lease.
I tagged along as Becca led Ziva into the stables where she hitched her up in a cleaning stall. As Becca groomed the mare, she chatted to me about how surprisingly calm Ziva is considering she is a thoroughbred. Information I in turn found calming, as I fretfully eyed the mare’s plate-sized hooves.
When I finally mounted Ziva, using a stepping stool, Becca made sure to inform me of the distinction between riding a horse and being a passenger on a horse as it is led by someone on foot, preemptively chastising me for bragging otherwise. I didn’t let this phase me though, and I still managed to nearly fall off in shock as Ziva began slowly moving forward.
Nothing in life had prepared me for the experience of being on a moving horse. When Ziva was standing still, it almost felt like I was just sitting resting on high chair. Then all of a sudden the chair came to life between my legs and more muscles then I could possibly keep track of began shifting back and forth beneath me. It was a hard to articulate experience and was caught me off guard, to say the least.
Once the shock dissipated though, I felt like a child at a traveling circus, happily perched atop Ziva, as Becca led us round and round her gargantuan indoor riding arena.