War Horse, the movie

I rarely watch horse movies, or horse shows in general, because I deplore movies that make me cry. The same goes for most Chick Flicks. With that said, I recorded it on TV a couple of weeks ago and we finally watched it last night.

I had declined to watch this one, because as I suspected, it was almost entirely complete fantasy where horses are concerned. Two things about it struck me as very true however: (1) the instant bond between the boy Albert and the horse he names Joey; and (2) the fact that horses inspire people to great feats of folly as well as heroism. Unfortunately, most of the rest is anthropomorphic hogwash. If you loved the movie, that’s great! Just know that it’s pretty far off the mark where reality is concerned. 

Horses do not understand what you say, unless you have taught them to obey commands, and that only because they associate the command with an activity. But, they are very sensitive creatures, and they can read human emotions through their highly developed sense of smell and their understanding of body language—so much so that many people believe they are telepathic. Like elephants, horses don’t forget, either. It is thought they remember things as flash backs, so their memories are photographic. When Albert teaches Joey to come to his particular whistle, I knew that it would save one of their lives, and it does indeed.

Then there’s the incident where Joey runs through many fences of barbed wire ending where he flips end over end and crashes in the midst of the battlefield between the British and the Germans. That entire scene is a complete and utter fantasy! Joey would have been cut to ribbons by the very first fence, and the only thing left at the end would have been a heap of screaming hamburger that someone would hopefully put out of its misery. Barbed wire is a hateful thing, and there are not enough words to express how much I detest it.

Like Albert though, I have experienced that instant bond with a horse. The first time I saw my mare Hadarah was in her mother’s stall as a two-day-old filly. She peeked out at me between the boards of the stall wall, and I knew that somehow she would be mine, and I think she knew it too. The lady who bred her did not first sell her to me, however. I was only fortunate enough to be able to buy her when her breeder realized she was being abused by her first owner and repossessed her. Even so, I didn’t have the money and bought her on a contract at $200 per month for two years. That was a real stretch for me, since I was only making (if I recall correctly) about $9.50 per hour in those days. For me, it was a dream come true, because I had wanted an Arabian horse ever since I was old enough to know the difference.

As Joey was for Albert, Hadarah has been more a friend than a pet or work animal. Caring for her put real discipline in my life, and she has never failed to lift my spirits, regardless of how depressed or angry I might be. She has never had to do any hard labor, such as plow a field, but she has had to learn to be a reliable companion and to do the numerous activities associated with pleasure riding. We trust each other, which is saying a great deal, when it comes to horses; and if horses can love people, then I believe Hadarah loves me. I certainly do love her, and she’s my very best friend! Here is a poem I wrote about her, published in my book of poetry Howling at the Dark Side of the Moon:* 

HADARAH 

I see through your eyes grey pony,

Little Arab mare, twenty-one winters gone.

You feel the year turning,

The Wheel of Life moving onward.

Deep inside, you know

Winter’s coming. 

You’ve never any blame

For things I’ve left undone, and

Always a glad whinny when I come,

Asking for a treat

(No thought of my owing

Or your deserving).

You never wonder

What tomorrow may bring. 

You are the soul of patience,

Acceptance, understanding, and trust,

And I’m blessed.

You’ve taught me so much more

Than ever I taught you.

I gave lessons in collection,

             But you taught me balance.

 

*Trafford Publishing, 2011, p. 79.

 

 

Fall Trip to Imnaha

Sam and I had a few days off work this past week, so we took the opportunity to make one last trip for the year to our new place near Imnaha, Oregon. I had intended to take more pictures to share, but it was so gloomy from all the forest fire smoke in the area, I ended up not taking any. We had a great time though! And, even with all the smoke, I didn’t have to take my sinus medicine one time! The photo below shows Little Sheep Creek and the highway from Joseph as you drive north to Imnaha.

 

Sam pitched our camp at the far end of the little horse barn (which is really just two stalls and a tack room, but hell for stout, metal roof and all). The folks we bought the property from haven’t moved out yet, so we didn’t want to disturb them. Sam set up the screen tent with a rain fly, and we had all the equipment needed to outfit our kitchen and make a very nice bed. Sam always levels the spot for the tent, so he took most of one day doing that and making camp. It was ultra-comfy to say the least. This photo was taken up on the rim rocks above the ditch and shows the little horse barn and paddock. 

To entertain myself while Sam was busy, I knitted a tea cozy. I had wanted to make one for some time and figured it would be just the sort of small project to take along. The pattern is one I downloaded from Knitpicks.com[2] and requires only one skein of yarn. I had taken some acrylic yarn from my stash for the purpose, but after stopping at The Sheep Shed[3] in Joseph (a local wool, yarn, and craft shop), I bought a couple skeins of Brown Sheep super wash wool yarn in “Purple Haze,” which suited it much better. I have to laugh, because just one skein of this yarn costs more than my teapot did—I bought it for $2 at Value Village!

I took my iPad along, which proved to be fortunate when Sam discovered he’d forgotten the matches (oops!). Its bright display made a workable flashlight. It was also nice to have along so we could listen to music and watch a couple recorded TV shows I wanted to watch. Tsk, tsk. Next day we bought a box of matches at the Imnaha Store and Tavern, along with more ice for the coolers. The photo below shows our place from across the way from the neighbor's feed lot. 

 

I got to thoroughly tramp all over the place for the first time and see what it’s really like—not just down by the house and the little stall barn, but up along the ditch and through the orchard. My oh my, is there ever a lot of work to do! Those fruit trees haven’t been pruned in quite a while, but they were loaded all the same. I sampled the plums (not quite ripe, but I didn’t care) and picked some apples and pears. There are several big walnut trees and a couple apricot trees too. Of course, the deer, elk, raccoons, wild turkeys, and quail that have had free run of the place have made sure there is no downed fruit lying around. We want to have some sheep and goats to graze down all the overgrown weeds (deer and elk don’t eat teasels), and they will have their work cut out for them. If I’d had the time to deal with it, I could have brought home a ton of ripe elderberries to make into jam (that’s for next year).There is a large flock of pigeons (at least three dozen) that fly around all day between the rim rocks, the phone wires, and the hay feeders down below where the neighbors keep their horses and a few cows and calves. I didn’t see any snakes, though they are there. Probably they were hiding in the rocks trying to keep cool where they could find water. The countryside around was very dry, and we are extremely fortunate in having abundant spring water. I will never lack for watercress.

One thing you notice is that it’s quiet but not silent. You hear hardly any people noise—just the occasional dog barking in the distance or vehicle going by on the road or down from the neighbor’s house across the way. There are no crying children, no yapping dogs, no stereos blasting, just bird and insect noises mostly. I heard crickets singing (you don’t hear those in Seattle—or at least not in populated areas), and Friday morning I was awakened by a covey of quail chirping away in a nearby thicket of hawthorn brush while a flock of about two dozen wild turkeys trekked up the fence about 20 feet away from our tent. I saw a big mule deer doe jump up out of the ditch above us that morning too. The pigeons cause a bit of a flap, especially when one of the hawks is diving on them: we saw a pair of Merlins and a Red Tail while we were there. No vultures though, and the night before leaving we were gathering up our things around the little barn when Sam stopped me and said to look up above one of the stall doors. There, staring back at us, was a little owl. It had apparently come to check for mice and was waiting until we left to fly away. Earlier in the afternoon a praying mantis flew into camp and stayed a while to check out Roxi’s dog food bowl. I had honestly never seen one of those before, except in pictures. They are huge! This one was a good three inches long and wasn’t timid at all. We got a good look at it before it finally flew off.

The closest town Joseph, Oregon (30 miles away) can be a bit touristy in the summer, being popular with the hunting and fishing set, as well as with folks who like to hike and camp, plus Joseph is well-known for its many bronze foundries and the arts in general, including writing. There is world-class fly fishing in the area and celebrities come there regularly to enjoy it.  Joseph is also famous for its world-renowned rodeo, Chief Joseph Days, named for Joseph onetime Chief of the Nez Perce Indian tribe, the original inhabitants of the Wallowa Valley.  In addition, Eagle Cap Wilderness Area is nearby and is a favorite of many, being a large part of what attracted us to the area in the first place. One thing is for certain, if you want to get away from city life, Northeastern Oregon is just the kind of place you’ll want to come.

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[1]Do you want to see what it’s like? Take a look! http://www.takemytrip.com/06glacier/06_48a.htm And by the way, the town is not located on the ridge top where the red arrow is on the Google map, it’s down on the highway by the Hells Canyon Roadhouse. It’s literally a blink town. I’ve seen espresso shacks bigger than the Imnaha Post Office.  Our property is on Camp Creek road, just southwest of town. For more lovely local scenery, look at http://www.takemytrip.com/06glacier/06_47a.htm Any wonder why we’re moving there?

[2] http://www.knitpicks.com/cfpatterns/pattern_display.cfm?ID=11240220

[3] http://www.josephsheepshed.com/