Carbon Hoofprint

British Columbians voted (or at least they should have!) in a provincial election today. Our riding is deeply conservative and my left-leaning voice holds no sway, but I threw my vote at the environmental party in hopes of helping them to secure more funding in future. I did the same in our last federal election. Maybe one day the province and the country will adopt electoral reforms that allow my vote to count. The referendum on switching BC from its antiquated first-past-the-post system to a single-transferable-vote system is not going to pass, so I'm not holding my breath.

Earlier today I met Dan at Farmer Dave's to load our second batch of hay. We talked about the election as we worked, focusing on its environmental repercussions. Then we started talking about the environmental impact of owning recreational horses, which is a concern that I have never been able to reconcile. Over the course of one year my two giant pets eat about 8 metric tons of local hay, another ton of alfalfa cubes, 260 kg of oats, 260 kg of beet pulp, 100 kg flax meal, 80 kg of sunflower seeds, and some other incidentals. I would love to know how much fossil fuel goes into growing, harvesting, preparing and transporting all that feed for them. When you multiply that mystery number against all the people with a couple of backyard horses the carbon hoofprint must be huge.

At work I am an avid environmentalist and I have committed my career to working on environmental problems, but the dichotomy between my professional beliefs and my personal lifestyle is uncomfortable. We have made a lot of environmentally conscious decisions at Farcical Farm (recognizing that we have a much larger carbon footprint as rural dwellers than we had as urban dwellers) , but horse ownership was not amongst them. Regardless of how carefully we run the operation, my own carbon footprint is MUCH bigger with Tonka and Raven in tow than it would be without them. It's a hard pill to swallow, so it is still lodged in my throat.

One is the Loneliest Number

That's exactly how many bales of hay we have the garage. You may recall that I bought 400 bales of 6% sugar and 15% protein hay in the fall, and that we had 200 bales delivered on October 10th (197 days ago) while Farmer Dave stored the other 200 in his barn.* I have always known that Tonka and Raven eat about a bale a day between them, but the day-to-day fluctuation is huge -- between 2/3 and 4/3 -- so I am surprised to see how accurate that estimate was over such a long period. We use hay to bed down the goat van when it gets mucked, so that probably accounts for the other three bales.

Neat, but it doesn't explain how we are going to feed the horses come Saturday. I cannot get in touch with the young man who did the transport last time so I will go pick up 20 bales Saturday morning and hope that Dan calls back soon.

*Farmer Dave was very glad to hear from me. He knew that he had sold the hay, but had completely forgotten to whom. When I tentatively confirmed that he still had the hay he said "Of course! I knew I sold it to someone!" which epitomizes my experience with farmers so far -- a handshake deal is a done deal.

A Big Day

Christina Cline came out for her first visit this morning, and Tonka's hooves were trimmed for the second time in three weeks. Christina described him as "very cooperative" despite his desire to sniff her, her apron, her boots, her stand, her tools and her pen. Overall she seemed positive about his prognosis, but found him guarded around his hind end -- possibly due to pain from keeping his weight rocked backwards during laminitic episodes. We'll see if she senses any difference in another four weeks. My sense is that I can learn an awful lot from this talented and experienced lady.

The sun came out later this morning, so I walked Tonka down to the tracks to test his reaction to the sight and the noise of a train blowing through Deroche. He took it fairly well, dancing around a bit, but maintaining most self control. I plan to do this every few days, and to edge him closer as he gets more comfortable. Given that trains run near to many of the places I would like to ride it only seems prudent and fair to sensitize him as thoroughly as possible.

After that I zipped out to Agassiz to help three burly men load 150 bales of low NSC (non-structural carbohydrates) hay onto a flatbed trailer. Tonka was very excited by the hay truck, and serenaded his new food with genuine enthusiasm. We unloaded it into the garage with the help of Russell, who's headed back to his more urban life in sunny California tomorrow. I ended the frenzy with a cracking headache and put myself to bed for three hours, leaving the hay cleanup for the morning. Let's hope it's sunny again!