Feathered friends

We've been rather quiet over the past week or so, after Murlan's tragic accident. I think both Alida and I felt a bit dispirited but life goes on and doubly so in the animal kingdom. We've been writing a lot about the horses but the A Squad is about animals in general, and so today I will blog a little bit about Aboyami Azizi, which means "Bringer of Joy" and "Precious". My African Grey Parrot.

It has taken me rather a long time, years in fact, to decide on his official names, as he may be called Aai Aai for short! Two A's for his initials, of course, with the added 'i's' to round it off nicely. He has had so many names since I've had him as a baby parrot as he truly is a ray of sunshine in my life.

I have always been fascinated by parrots, especially the bigger ones, the talkers. Early on I read that these guys are the true talking parrots and we have all seen documentaries about Alex, the African Grey Parrot who could decide for himself and come up with the right answers when asked certain questions. We have all heard or read or seen on tv, that the experts believe them to have the brain capacity on par with that of a child of five years old. All people have some idea about parrots, their ability to talk, and so, when I got my baby, I was over the moon. I have yet to return from the moon!

When I got my parrot as a youngster, he was very shy and afraid of people. When animals are afraid, they either try to hide away, or they bite out of fear. This little one was no exception and let me tell you, parrot beaks are very hard and very sharp and they draw blood easily. I did not know too much about the breed and was reading up ferociously but I really wanted to make friends and reassure my little bird that I was no predator about to gobble him up!

One day I held him, carefully, in my hand, trying to stroke his head and befriend him, but he was only content to sit with me. I had a bit of a brainwave and grabbed a peanut or two, showed him the peanut and as he happily grabbed it to start peeling it, I gradually and very gingerly started stroking his head with the other hand. He adored it and from then on we became fast friends!

Some parrots are naturally shy and others are quite social. My little one is naturally shy, so when people visit he tends to go quiet or try to be threatening by puffing himself up into a little fluffball! He has even made growling noises when children visited and he royally dislikes cigarette smoke! Needless to say, this is a non smoking environment...;-)

Alida and her family laugh at our antics, but my African Grey is more human to me than anything else. He likes to cuddle with me and readily moves nearer when I approach his cage and asks him if he would like to sit with me. He responds with a "Come" and then promptly climbs down and up onto me when I open his cage. He perches on my shoulder or he climbs into the crook of my arm to be cradled like a baby or positions himself to get a tummy scratch. When it is time for a bath (for me!) he will sit on the side of the tub and keep me company, sometimes singing along with me, or dancing or playing with the water. He gets along well with my brother, but he would never dream of taking him out of his cage, as he has bled a few times in the past for being a little too sure of himself, poking a finger into the cage for a second or so too long or simply for not being fast enough. The parrot even makes a laughing sound should he catch my brother off guard....!

Some Greys form a really close bond with their humans, so much so that they will regurgitate 'presents' and present them to their human. I have received a number of slightly digested and gooey sunflower seeds etc. You have to be really happy when you receive these gifts, as they are only given to The One in their lives. Parrots in the wild will regurgitate to their mates, and so, when this honour befalls you, you have to display the appropriate gratitude!

I have not had my parrot sexed as I believe that he is a male. There is method to my madness, as I have observed a number of other females, all of which have some kind of nesting instinct, they tear the newspapers at the bottom of the cage into shreds, they wash everything in their waterbowls and tend to be quite destructive inside the cage. They generally don't preen as much too. The females also do not make certain sounds, as I think the male may be somewhat more vocal towards the female and my little one has specific noises he makes before the regurgitation starts. I met one other parrot who also quite liked me and made the same noises, but the females may like you, yet they do not make those specific sounds. Those sounds are hard to explain, but the closest I can venture is that they sound like a little baby bird wanting attention.

Normally people are not interested in the finer aspects or traits of these birds, as described above. They want to go straight to the most popular aspect of the African Grey Parrot. Their talking. So yes, he talks, and boy does he ever talk! They are highly intelligent as we have mentioned before, and so I do not think teaching parrots three syllable swear words is much of an accomplishment! My parrot does not swear and I do not allow swear words near him as they will pick up on those quite fast for the simple reason that those words do not take much intelligence to learn. (Perhaps people can catch the hint here...)

He whistles and he sings and when he is concentrating on something you said, you can see it in the eyes and in the way he cocks his head. Listening intently to process later on. He is quite clear when he speaks and people can generally hear what he is saying,  unless it is something that he is still practicing.

He whistles the MacGyver themesong and he sings 'Jan Pierewiet' but in such a way that he has me in stitches every time I hear it. Sometimes he forgets and then he adds whatever comes into his head to complete the song or the line or the lyric. He mashes sentences that he has learnt and the outcome is often quite hilarious as well as fitting. He says "Knight Rider" with the real American twang and he will ask you what sound the Car makes (K.I.T.T, remember?) He will then proceed and make the sound...:-)

He has moods, just like people and sometimes he wants to be left alone. Sometimes he wants to stay in his cage and at other times he has to come out NOW and then he will proceed to bite at his cage, so that you can run there and open up. Sometimes he wants a snack and if he sees YOU with one and you have not given same to him, then there will be trouble.

As I wrote in the beginning, he is so much more a little person than he is an animal. He is my special feathered little angel and I love him dearly!

Murlan - A tribute

Murlan was a resident of Alida's riding school under Ricus and Chene. I met him when I first met Lee-Anne, who rode him regularly. Lee-Anne told me Murlan's story. He used to be a Railway Horse, quite used to riding hard but not so used to 'going to school' which was why she put a lot of work and sweat, frustration and heaps of love and carrots into her efforts of schooling him properly and bringing him on.
Murlan was lovable on the spot. He had a sweet disposition and enjoyed cuddles and pats, but he could perform in the arena when something did not suit him or if he decided to act up. Lee-Anne jumped with him and they looked really good together, they had an understanding and affection towards one another, even though he belonged to someone else. Sometimes in life, that happens. Lee-Anne will sorely miss his sweet little face.

Saturday was his time to go. It will always remain a shock to hear about broken bones, but ours not to reason why. Perhaps some day broken equine bones will be healed as easily as broken fingers.

We will always remember you, Murlan, because you were a living, breathing little soul, who we loved. And so, we know you will enjoy jumping Heaven's fences with four strong and healthy legs, chomping carrots and running free, another proud and noble example of your kind, safe forever.

Rest In Peace, Boy.

On an emotional Rollercoaster - By Alida

Emotional Rollercoaster

This weekend was a mixture of absolute joy, and absolute sadness and it just feels like it was a lot longer than just two days.

The Joy:

I got back in the saddle after six weeks of being grounded.  I sustained a stress fracture on my right foot around six weeks ago, and was told to take it easy.  For a change I listened (boy I must really be getting old!) and I didn’t get up to too much mischief.  I could feel the odd twinge in my foot over the six week period, which reminded me to take things a little easier.  I didn’t always – if things needed to get done, it needed to get done! 

Fernando was feeling my tension for sure.  He was chewing on his bit a lot more than usual – grinding his teeth but generally his usual well behaved self.  I was rusty but it started coming back to me pretty quickly and I even managed a good canter or two.  My attention though was not completely where it should have been.  I dismounted at the end of the lesson with the help of my hubby so that I wouldn’t place undue stress on my foot – he had me landing on the ground as soft as a feather – not a twinge from my foot at all.

The sadness:

On Saturday morning, Murlan (a lovely little school pony) broke his leg in a freak accident and had to be put down.  His owner took him on an outride, and while I was in the arena, I heard a shout and looked up to see Murlan struggle to his feet just outside the school yard.  He had (I presumed) spooked at something – perhaps at some cyclists coming past?- I wasn’t sure, but he had fallen and his owner came off too.  Chene took over our lesson from Ricus while he went to investigate and assist the owner and Murlan.  From a distance, it looked like Murlan could not put any weight on the leg.  Perhaps just injured, or bruised I hoped?  We carried on with the lesson.

Afterwards, I went to where they stood waiting for the vet.  An ambulance had arrived to take the lady to hospital – thank goodness her injuries did not seem to be too serious.  Murlan, however, was not so lucky.  As I walked up, Ricus just shook his head.  A few friends stood by, quietly holding Murlan’s leadrope.  They had removed his saddle and bridle and had put a halter on him.  Ricus said it seemed that Murlan’s leg was broken in two places.  Blood pooled in the grass where he stood quietly.  No lashing out, no drama, nothing.  Just him being his usual quiet self if you looked at his face.  But you couldn’t help but look at the leg that he held off the ground.

Tears that I had been holding back started pouring down my face.  I tried to be brave for the kids’ sake that were there, but I wasn’t being very good at it.  I said my goodbyes, got in my car and left.

Another task remained though.  My dear friend Lee Anne regularly rode Murlan and had formed a close bond with him.  She had had her struggles with him where he could barely do a decent canter and was generally a difficult little horse, and she had worked with him a lot over the last year, to a point where she could recently jump a 80cm course with him in a training show.  I had to break the news to her that he had to be put down, and to make things worse - it was her birthday.  She was at work that morning for a stock-take which was very involved and needed her full attention.  I knew I couldn’t call her right there – she wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand.  We celebrated her birthday on Sunday by going out for lunch with a couple of friends.  It was very hard not to break down, but somehow, with Anya’s help, we got through the day in one piece.  That evening, when all had settled, Anya and I set off to their home to deliver the terrible news.  We sat her down and I had to tell her what had happened.  Lee-Anne was heartbroken.  We all cried, hugged and cried some more.  Had some coffee, talked, and cried some more.  I was emotionally wasted.  It took me some time before I could settle down last night and my dreams were troubled. 

This morning, I feel like I have run a marathon.  My muscles are aching from riding for the very first time in six weeks, and my head feels like I have a hangover.  It was a weekend of highs and lows that I hope not to have to experience any time again ever.

Rest in piece sweet little horse.

Trick Training Saturday

So there we were on Saturday afternoon! We tried to be dressed against the onslaught of the wind and the chill, but most of us failed dismally. Well, I know I did. However, that did not curb our enthusiasm as we ventured outside and next door to the riding school to enjoy the trick training demonstration.

Wicus and his daughter, Aluschka demonstrated the way they teach their (and other) horses trick training. Well not the way really, but the outcome, as you can see Aluschka hanging from the saddle - just as they do in the cowboy and other western movies where the cowboy hides from the gunmen or shoots out from the shelter of his horse's neck. They also demonstrated sliding a leg over the horses' back as the horse is still trotting, or in other instances, going at full speed. Perhaps Butter was also a bit cold on Saturday, because she only went as fast as a trot. It was still quite impressive, as Aluschka swung her leg over, hang down from the saddle and then pushed herself back up again with one leg touching the ground and then swinging back up into the saddle again.

She ended the demonstration by flinging herself off the horse, to land on the ground and roll away, as the stuntmen do, so the last photo is not of her falling down, but a calculated falldown-and-roll-over-jump!

They also showed us other training techniques, but I cannot write too much about that, as those techniques are familiar to us, we know them, we employ them and we incorporate them with Monty Robert's joining up techniques, and common sense and remembering the herd mentality of the horse.

We would have enjoyed to see a bit more of the tricks, as they also show the horses lying down, or rearing up, but I think the cold became a bit too much and in the end, what we saw was quite enjoyable, but we would not suggest anybody try these at home. They are used for stunts in movies and for exhibitions, why anybody would want to do this on an outride besides just showing off, is beyond me.

So happy riding as usual, folks!

Weekend antics!

We have an exciting weekend ahead of us! While everyone will be sipping hot toddies and lounging in front of fires or watching dvd's under duvets (I am sickening myself with mental pictures!) we will be out watching a demonstration on trick training.

Alida has mentioned in her posts before that the two greys (Peanut and Butter) had been taught by a previous owner to do trick training, and so, he has agreed to do a demonstration tomorrow afternoon. The next door riding school has graciously agreed that we use their facilities and so I will endeavour to take a lot of pictures so that we can display them on the blog next week!

We have no idea what to expect but we understand that we will be suitably impressed, however, what remains to be seen is the MANNER in which the horses are treated, which is of paramount importance to us. As mentioned before, I am no fan of outdated or harsh training methods and neither is Alida, but we remain open-minded and will each write up our opinions formed after tomorrow.

So while we shiver in the breeze, enjoy staying warm this weekend and watch out for the report back next week!

Blog comments

Dear Readers

Apparently, our blog is behaving badly, so much so that our Readers battle to post comments! So even though it seems that our blog traffic is a mere trickle, we are receiving great feedback and we appreciate it tremendously! Thank you to all of you who have commented directly to us, or those who do so on Facebook! We will try and rectify the situation, however we are still slightly technologically challenged!

We welcome any helpful hints and or suggestions!

We would love to hear all the comments, and we would be more than happy to be able to respond to those comments, so to provide an alternative for now, please visit me on Facebook to leave a comment there should you wish to. Alida will be joining Facebook shortly too! It's about time, I'd say!!

Apparently the Cold will be invading us again soon! Stay warm everybody and please continue reading!

Justice has a name....by Alida

Justice has a name…..

In our little herd, we have Peanut and Butter – two grey mares of around 15.3 / 16h (haven’t officially measured) but a nice size nevertheless.  Then there is Dezzi – a feisty little Welsh mare, and then our two littlies – Elvis and Snowbell.

Peanut is soft.  Her body, her eyes, her nature – everything about her is good natured and amicable.  A real easy girl to get along with.  Butter is a bit more difficult, more stubborn, but once in the saddle, she will (reluctantly) comply with your requests, but you have to keep repeating the question!  Both have that “endurance horse” trot that is very economical, with their heads carried long and low, and once they get going, they look like they could carry on for hours.  Peanut more floaty, Butter workman like in her efforts.

Dezzi has spirit, the eyes of a dreamer, the legs of a supermodel and a kick like a donkey.  She went to an instructor for a month which was over far too soon, and now that she’s back, she will be used for riding lessons on the slightly bigger kids.  Her spirit is awesome.  She is a gentle soul with a streak of mischief in her that can cause two riders in quick succession to get dumped in exactly the same spot in the arena, but when you establish your authority, she retreats in minutes and becomes meek and mild.  I know that with time, the right training and gentle care, she will be a stunning little show pony.  But its as they say – pretty is as pretty does. 

Elvis is my rock, my hero.  A furry little Shetland, with a woolly winter coat, dark chestnut with black main and tail, and a white mark here and there.  Nothing phases him, and the only thing he ever gets grumpy about, is when his grazing time is interrupted or when the food is slow in coming.  He accepts anything, carries everything and does all of that with the same even temperament, slogging forward, carrying the world on his shoulders.

Then there is Snowbell.  Snowbell is a tiny little thing that is about hip high, but was ‘blessed’ with some seriously accurate back feet that can deliver justice in quick and harsh blows to the body / leg / backside of anybody that crosses her line (wherever she might decide to draw it).  She is in charge and knows it well.  The walk-in open stable is there for all to enjoy as they choose.  Should Snowbell decide she feels like some company, they can all stand happily and doze together.  But she can change her mind in an instant, and with ears pulled flat, she reverses towards those whose real or imagined transgression deserves a dose of her swift justice.  The only real opposition she gets is from the sole male figure in the herd – Elvis.  I’ve never seen him retaliate, but she also never seems to aim any of her aggravation against him either.  When she wants a little lie down, he dutifully stands guard over her, and where she goes, he follows.  She will happily share a pile of hay with him, where any of the others gets chased off with bared teeth and a squeal if they dare approach her. 

It’s a happy little herd, and I love to watch the powerplays, the silly games they play in the paddock, or just the peacefulness of it all at the end of the day as they graze with the last of the winter sun just dipping below the horizon, leaving me with a smile as I smell the feint smell of wood shavings, and listen to the quiet chewing, the odd snort and a deep sigh of contentment.