Kaffi update

Last November, Karen hauled Kaffi to Littleton Equine for a full diagnostic work-up in regards to his frequent colic episodes.

The exam found ulcers, but offered no definitive answers. 

He came home - a bit later than expected - and was put on an intensive anti-ulcer regimen.

For a while - almost six months - it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

Then the colics started up again.

Oh, Kaffi.

It was obvious changes needed to be made. After a lot of discussion with the vet and barn owner, Karen moved him out of his stall and into full-time turnout in the gelding field. She'd actually tried this before, with less than ideal results. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures.

The good news is, this time it seems to be working.

He's buddied up with Linda's good boy, Dango, and has had only one minor episode all summer.

Karen is planning to bring him back into work this fall. Enjoy your vacation, little man. 

Red tree time is coming!

Harnessing the past

I would be remiss if I didn't share pictures of the four harnesses that accompanied the Marie Welch stagecoach.

Alas, that is the only picture I have of the entire set. As Trish told me so many years ago, these harnesses were sewn onto the models. 

We took them off the bays, and now they're staying off, at least for the foreseeable future.

Instead, I tried to lay out the pieces of one of the harnesses in a way that made sense. It was harder than I expected!

I did a better job of capturing the details of the collars. 

The hames are made of hand-bent wood. Rather than relying on glue, the wire pieces are attached to the wood through tiny holes. 

Here's one of the other collars shown on the horse.

Remember, this was made decades before Rio Rondo. 

There is no mass produced, specialty hardware here.

It's all beads, jump rings and shaped wire.

Three of the Zaras have holes drilled in the corners of their mouths for ease of bitting.

The fourth Zara's bit is secured with a nearly invisible piece of thread.

Like Pecan's halter, most of the leather is stiff and brittle with age. The collar, the saddle, the blinders and the breeching are made of pleather and have fared significantly better. In fact, they look almost as good as new.

None of this is modern live show quality, but for its age, it's completely amazing. Trisha's grandmother was not a model horse hobbyist, but she was an accomplished horse woman and artist. Her work reflects her knowledge, ingenuity and attention to detail. I am honored to have it in my collection.

Coach

It wasn't just the Shirmars that caught my eye during my first visit to Trisha's parents' house. I was also awestruck by the traditional scale horse and carriage set-ups that decorated their living room shelves. One was a sleigh pulled by an alabaster Breyer running mare. The other was a a stagecoach with four Shirmar Zaras all in collared harnesses. 

At the time, I was a nineteen year old college student with big performance dreams and almost no money. I looked at those horse drawn vehicles and saw opportunity.

After a few more visits, I broached the topic with Trish. "Would it be possible," I asked, "to take those set-ups out of the china cabinet, maybe put the harnesses on some of my models and take pictures?"

She shut me down immediately. Everything was very old and very fragile. The harnesses were sewn on to the horses and the stagecoach and two of its models were permanently attached to a base. Fun idea, but no. That was never going to happen.

I respected that, of course, but for years I dreamed of showing my models with that sleigh and that coach.

Last month, I attended the Celebration of Life for Trisha's mom, Donna. 

I came home with a whole herd of Shirmars and the stagecoach.

Even though Trish and I were extremely careful, the coach started breaking before we even got it out of the cabinet. 

The wheels were the first to go. 

Those delicate joins and the decades old wood just couldn't handle the stress of moving.

As Trish had told me all those years ago, the coach and two of the horses were permanently attached to a long wooden base. One of the horses came off easily.

The other - along with the remains of the coach - are still stubbornly hanging on. Today, I carried the whole thing downstairs to the photo table.

Because the wheel assembly disintegrated, the front part of the carriage is propped up on a box. 

This was hand built by Trisha's grandmother, Marie Welch, some fifty years ago.

See those metal springs?

I have reason to believe they were cut from a coffee can!

It's not up to current hobby standards for horse drawn vehicles, but still, this is a really neat piece with so many fun, vintage details.

Despite the condition of the wheels, the body of this carriage feels pretty solid. I don't have the time or energy, but I'd love to give it to someone who wants a project.

If you're interested and at least local-ish - I can not ship thise - please get in touch. Even after all these years, part of me still wants to see this in the model horse show ring!

Dressing the chicken

Back in May, the company that employs me announced it had been sold to a liquidation company.

At first, it was really sad.

Then - for the next two and a half month -  it was extremely busy and extremely chaotic.

But now?

It's mostly depressing.

Today, we went an entire hour without making a single sale. After sixty long minutes of busywork and doom scrolling, I looked over at Victoria and said, "I think it's time to dress the chicken."

At the same time we are going out of business, the store next to us - the store that moved into the space that used to be ours - is celebrating their grand opening.

We've been talking to the owners throughout their entire construction process, and as soon as the chicken arrived, I told them it needed a saddle. They probably thought I was kidding, but no. I always planned to make that happen. I was just waiting for a day like today.

Victoria and I walked over to their stores with a pair of splint boots in hand. We told them our plans, and suddenly there was just a little bit of panic. 

The chicken isn't permanently to his base, please don't knock him over. Also, his head and neck pop off.

I laughed and said I'd tacked up my share of uncooperative horses, both big and small. I think I could handle one chicken.

The bridle was, in fact, a challenge.

Fortunately, we were more than up to the task.

After we were done, the liquor store guys came out and took pictures of our handiwork. It was impressive, if I do say so myself.

And, you know... after we created this magnificent display, our foot traffic picked up, and we ended up having a decent day.

Sometimes you really just need to dress a chicken!