Stories From Fish Hatchery Road

How to Soak Your Horse's Hay the Easy Way

When I started soaking hay for my Insulin Resistant horses, it was a huge ordeal. I did not, as they say, quite have the routine down.

I will share the story with you . Just try not to laugh to hard at my expense!

"You need to soak the hay to see if the sugars in it are causing the inflammation in your horses' feet," my vet told me.

"Okay," I said.

From there I went into my hay barn, grabbed a pad of hay and brought it into my bathroom, where I put it in my tub. This should work, I thought. From there I proceeded to fill the tub with water. Suffice to say that the Roto Rooter man had a good laugh as he wrote out my bill. And I learned that one does not soak one's hay inside the house!

From there I tried all kinds of ways to soak hay. I tried putting it in a wheel barrow and placing a stone on top to weight it (hay floats and it's hard to soak something that floats!) I also tried putting the hay in hay nets and soaking, and then hanging from trees to drain. My neighbors thought that was interesting.

A few years later, I have a routine down that is A LOT easier.

I put the the hay in the biggest ice chests I can find at Walmart. I can put one large pad of hay -- which weighs about 5 pounds each -- in each ice-chest. I then fill the chest with hot water, cover, and let sit for 30 minutes. It's a lot like making tea, only with hay. The smell is absolutely devine.

The horses love their "hot hay" and look like they are eating spaghetti when the strands hang from their mouths as they gobble it down. In fact I am now convinced that Vashka and Sunny prefer their soaked "hot hay" to dry hay!

But back to the procedure of soaking hay.  Once the hay has soaked for 30 minutes in hot water or an hour in cold water -- these times are enough to reduce the sugar contents in the hay by as much as 30 percent -- you take the hay out and drain it.  It helps if you have a strong back and have already placed your ice chests on an incline. I simply pick the chests up by the handle with the lids on but not all the way closed, and tilt the chests.  Most people pull the plug on the chest that drains the water and let most of the water come out first. However you drain your hay, the important thing is that you do it  thoroughly before your horses eat it, as the waters are filled with the sugars from the hay.

Now pull the hay form the chests and take wherever you need to feed. Some people are able to keep their hay inside the chests after draining. However i find that there is still water that stands in the bottom of the chest (because the plug in the chest is about above the ground). Even when the chest is tilted, the water does not drain completely. This causes the hay to sour much more quickly than if it is put in a hay tray.

A hay tray is a lot like a baker's drying rake. My handyman Jack and I, have created eleven homemade hay trays made out of oak and plastic trellis. I have put many of them around my horses' dry lot. They stand about two inches above the ground so air is able to circulate all around they hay. When placed in the shade, soaked hay stays fresh all day long -- even in the very hot South Oregon summers.

Soaking hay is now part of the daily routine at Skode's Horse Ranch. It is no longer an ordeal that feels like an intrusion on my daily life. It has become a part of my daily life. I think this is one of the keys to having healthy Insulin Resistant horses -- finding ways to care for them that work for the humans, too.

* Special note: I am writing a short manual on how to make the hay trays I mention in this story. Check back soon for this.

"SKODE"

How Harley Kept His Promise

Anyone who makes a lifetime commitment to a horse, faces the dreaded day when they will have to say goodbye to their cherished friend. That day for Harley and I came much earlier than I wanted.

This story is for those who face the heart-breaking decision of euthanizing their horse. It is also for anyone, who under any circumstances, has had to help their friend go to that place we call The Rainbow Ridge. This is a true story. It really, really happened.

I hope it brings you even a fraction of the hope and comfort it continues to bring me.

March 11, 2007: I looked into my Shetland Pony's big brown eyes and we talked, woman to pony. He tucked his nose beneath my armpit and said he was sorry. But it was time for him to go.

"I'm not afraid," he told me through animal communicator Mary Getten.

"I will try really, really hard to come and see you in my dreams."

March 14, 2007: I told Harley I would share the lessons he had taught me. I told him everything he went through would help other ponies.  We laid in the sunshine in the pine shavings outside the barn. A few hours later, the vet came.  at 3:30 p.m., I walked my friend to his favorite pasture. I grabbed his mane and whispered my final goodbye, trusting my little friend to keep his word.

The First Dream:  Harley's kiss was sweet and tender and full of love -- nose to forehead. A comforting little boy energy, as if to tell me: "Don't worry! I'm O.K."

I bolted awake.

The Second Dream: The pumpkin colored pony with the thick, golden mane ran as fast as he could through the silver gate and into the pasture. He loved the way his strong feet and legs connected to the muscles in his shoulders and in his entire body. He made me feel that, how exhilarating that felt.  "I'm a powerhouse," he thought at me. "Close to the ground but ready to fly."

Harley was flanked by two other ponies -- a black and white pinto and a chestnut. The three of them laughed as they burst into the wide open pasture.

The Third Dream: The early morning mist covered the Oregon Mountains. Harley walked easily, quickly, across the rock covered ground, his strong hooves impervious to their sharp and jagged edges.  Vashka and Sunny, Harley's close Arabian friends, greeted Harley with great happiness.  It had been a few weeks since they last talked.

Groggily, I made my way out the front door and into the paddock to feed Vashka and Sunny. It had been so hard to make the mental transition to caring for two horses instead of three. I had to keep telling myself: Two feed bowls, not three. Two blankets, not three. To treats, not three.

"Harley's not here anymore," I kept reminding myself.

But on that morning, there were three horses, not two. There was Harley, as vibrant and alive as ever.  He was so shiny and golden, as if he had eaten a thousand vitamins and been dunked in the sun itself.

"Harley!"

"Lori!"

My pony walked to me and nuzzled my hand.  Yes, it was really him. Completely healed. Completely happy. He wanted me to know that. So he had kept his promise and come back to show me.

He had kept his promise.

Now it was time for me to keep mine.

"SKODE"