Hay there!
Nov. 28th, 2004 09:47 pmHands swollen and marked with little welts, legs tired and sore, itchy stuff down my neck... It must be hay time again.
Later in the year than usual, we find ourselves wanting to refill the hay supply to make sure we get through the winter. With four horses, five sheep, and assorted rabbits, we go through quite a lot of hay, especially in winter when there is no grass to speak of. Unloaded and stacked two racks full of bales over this weekend, and we'll have at least one more coming sometime this week probably.
Fortunately we've been buying from the same source mostly for five years now, and they know our needs and anticipate our requests to some degree. Jeff is very nice, he delivers a full rack and positions it for us to unload (we have no equipment that can move a full hay rack--150 bales plus the rack can weigh nearly four tons) then comes back to take away the empty when we're done. We can stack almost 700 bales in one side of our arena, which is an amazing pile of feed and a truly depressing sight when it is almost gone. Why? Because that means we're going to have to start unloading and stacking again.
The price of hay varies with the supply and demand of course, and we've paid anywhere from $1.75 to $3.25 per bale over the years. Unlike gasoline, it doesn't just go up and up, though. The average has stayed around $2.25.
Let me stick a needle in the haystack and puncture a myth at the same time. It does not cost a lot of money to feed a horse. At least, not a horse of an efficient breed. The annual cost of hay and grain for one of our Haflingers is about $750 (depending on market prices, of course.) The veterinary bill for the same horse runs about $450 a year. The farrier (just to keep feet trimmed and balanced, we don't use shoes) runs about $210 for a year (six visits). With a few additional expenses, round that to $1500 a year to keep a horse. Of course this doesn't take into account capital expenditures, like the cost of barn, fences, or pasture. But overall, owning a horse is within reach of almost anyone who wants it badly enough.
I'm not wealthy. I'm barely middle class, but I want this very much. One soft nose against my cheek is enough to make it worth far more than mere dollars. I set priorities and go without things other people take for granted in order to have my horses. We don't have cable or satellite television, for instance. We don't have cell phones. We have old computers that are barely functional with today's software demands. Our vehicles are serviceable, but far from new.
Why? It's simple, really. A satellite dish or a shiny new pickup truck will not perk its ears and nicker a greeting when it hears your footstep. And it certainly won't come running across the pasture to greet you, ready and willing to let you put a halter or bridle on it and ask it to do something for you. A good horse will do all that and more, even though you have to stack hay and shovel a certain amount of manure. (At least it's honest manure, unlike the shit you probably shovel every day for your employer anyway.)
Later in the year than usual, we find ourselves wanting to refill the hay supply to make sure we get through the winter. With four horses, five sheep, and assorted rabbits, we go through quite a lot of hay, especially in winter when there is no grass to speak of. Unloaded and stacked two racks full of bales over this weekend, and we'll have at least one more coming sometime this week probably.
Fortunately we've been buying from the same source mostly for five years now, and they know our needs and anticipate our requests to some degree. Jeff is very nice, he delivers a full rack and positions it for us to unload (we have no equipment that can move a full hay rack--150 bales plus the rack can weigh nearly four tons) then comes back to take away the empty when we're done. We can stack almost 700 bales in one side of our arena, which is an amazing pile of feed and a truly depressing sight when it is almost gone. Why? Because that means we're going to have to start unloading and stacking again.
The price of hay varies with the supply and demand of course, and we've paid anywhere from $1.75 to $3.25 per bale over the years. Unlike gasoline, it doesn't just go up and up, though. The average has stayed around $2.25.
Let me stick a needle in the haystack and puncture a myth at the same time. It does not cost a lot of money to feed a horse. At least, not a horse of an efficient breed. The annual cost of hay and grain for one of our Haflingers is about $750 (depending on market prices, of course.) The veterinary bill for the same horse runs about $450 a year. The farrier (just to keep feet trimmed and balanced, we don't use shoes) runs about $210 for a year (six visits). With a few additional expenses, round that to $1500 a year to keep a horse. Of course this doesn't take into account capital expenditures, like the cost of barn, fences, or pasture. But overall, owning a horse is within reach of almost anyone who wants it badly enough.
I'm not wealthy. I'm barely middle class, but I want this very much. One soft nose against my cheek is enough to make it worth far more than mere dollars. I set priorities and go without things other people take for granted in order to have my horses. We don't have cable or satellite television, for instance. We don't have cell phones. We have old computers that are barely functional with today's software demands. Our vehicles are serviceable, but far from new.
Why? It's simple, really. A satellite dish or a shiny new pickup truck will not perk its ears and nicker a greeting when it hears your footstep. And it certainly won't come running across the pasture to greet you, ready and willing to let you put a halter or bridle on it and ask it to do something for you. A good horse will do all that and more, even though you have to stack hay and shovel a certain amount of manure. (At least it's honest manure, unlike the shit you probably shovel every day for your employer anyway.)