Skip to main content

Horse-raising Days

I enjoy reading a column titled, “Rural Reflections” in our local shopper, “The Northern Watch,” published by The Times in Thief River Falls, Minnesota. I find what the author writes is entertaining, informative and thought-provoking. Since I’m a writer too, (Sadly, more of an essayist than a column writer) I thought he might appreciate some feedback, if somewhat long-winded. Brevity isn’t my best suit as I tend to think there’s more to a story than what is told in brief, just as there is more than one piece to a puzzle.
     
I thought the article he wrote last spring about his grazing service was interesting. He moved his customer’s cattle herd onto his farm, then from pasture to pasture over the summer, correct? That idea was very intriguing. When I look at some of my neighbors cattle grazing, on what I don’t know, I think their pastures could use some rotational practices too. The whole of it always look pretty thin, void of any lush greeness save that of a golf course, but I know little of feeding a herd of cattle over the long haul except to observe what the neighbors do.
    
The only livestock I’ve raised here were a couple of horses. Our mare foaled one mid-summer night when there was a full moon and the whippoorwills were singing. Hence we named her “Moonlight Whippoorwill.” She grew to be a gorgeous animal. She and her mother were gifts from my-then father-in-law who thought our 2-year old daughter, his first grandchild, should have a ‘pony’ being as we lived on 160-acres. The pony turned out to be a 10-year old registered Arabian mare named “Lady,” whom he was gifted by his favorite uncle in Idaho who raised Arabs. How could we turn down a free ‘pony’? So what, if we had to build a huge corral of cedar posts and black spruce rails? Or throw together a small leanto stable, extend an underground waterline and put in a hydrant and stocktank? Small concessions for future 4-H projects and showhorse/barrel-racing glory. Did I mention buying many bales of dust-free hay? Stud and Veterinarian fees?
     
Well, our horse-raising days stalled in the face of over-blown expectations by the father-in-law and two brothers-in-law (who got into the act somehow) and within a year and a half, after the birth of Moonlight Whippoorwill, the corral stood empty, its paddock overgrown, and the stocktank dry. The mare and foal went to live with my wife’s cousin’s family eight miles west, where coincidently,  Hollywood actor Garrett Hedlund, then a adolescent, lived.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Winter Returns Along Mikinaak Creek February 8-9th, 2024

  This is the first channel wide moving water I've seen since the spring of 2023 --and it's in February!       On maps, the creek (or ‘crick' depending on your dialect) is spelled ‘Mickinock’ for the Anishinaabe man who lived at the Indian camp at Ross, but had seasonal camps around Wannaska and other places. The Euro-American immigrants who homesteaded here in Roseau County called him ‘Chief,’ but he may have been just a spokesperson who knew enough English to get things done peacefully and simultaneously meet the needs of his people; the word, ‘chief' was often used in derision of any Indigenous male adult.      I spell Mikinaak the Ojibwe way, in a gesture of respect; what the Dakota, who were here before the Anishinaabeg/Chippewa, called this place, this body of moving water I don’t know; just as I don’t know who came before them exactly.  I was told that one of Mikinaak's camps were here on our place in Palmville Township. Its locat...

Friends to the End: Delmer Roseen and Curtis Johnson

  Delmer and Curtis: Friends to the End      From where he was buried on Saturday April 11th, 1992, the tin roofs of his buildings could be seen through the trees. Across the fence, at the foot of his grave, were the fields he farmed. Between them, Mikinaak Creek--so much a part of Delmer Roseen’s life and sadly, his death--still winds through willow slough, over beaver dams below the Palmville Cemetery, and past his door to the South Fork of the Roseau River, only a few yards to the southeast.         Delmer lived northeast of us in Palmville Township. If I looked just right, I could see his yard light through the woods between his place and mine. Either of us could hear the soft ‘clung’ of the rope and pulley against the flag pole in the cemetery at the corner of our two farms. Red willows, popple islands, and slough grass; green mossy fence posts; the often submerged patchwork of woven wire, and the depth of water i...

1972 An August Adventure: Stormy Lake, Snake Bay, Ontario

My 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser   A life changing event. I've had asthma all my life and it limited me somewhat until 1972, when after an event on a remote Canadian lake I was rushed to Dryden Area Hospital for emergency treatment of a pneumothorax /lung collapse. Early one morning, my dad and I left Des Moines, Iowa on 1530 mile round trip fishing expedition to Stormy Lake, Ontario; stopping in Roseau, Minnesota to join six family members: My uncle  Martin and aunt Irene Davidson of Roseau, their son Jack Davidson and his 8-yr old son, Jeffrey, of Thief River Falls, Minnesota, and Jack's older brother Dean Davidson, and his 11-yr old son, Larry, of Clive, Iowa in addition to their two two vehicles, one with a boat atop it. We were pulling a one-wheeled trailer behind my brand new 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser to handle extra gear. Leaving Roseau as the last vehicle in the three car caravan, we headed off toward the...