Another tall tale from the ranch out west...
We had this absolutely stunning golden palamino gelding named Dallas. Beauty is as beauty does, or so they say. Well, Dallas was special, that was for sure.
I had never met a horse that did not tie. If they don't tie, how do you get them to stay put? Well one day, the cowboys decided he needed to learn to do so. We brought him in after morning roundup, and tied him to a four foot wide post inside a small corral. That way, in case he broke his halter and got loose he would be in an enclosed area.
Clever, right?
Well... we left him there during morning ride [about 3 hours] and when I returned I did not see him. With about 10-15 guests riding behind me, I said nothing to make sure I did not alarm them. Looking over, I did note the fence he had been tied to was GONE.
After finishing my wrangling responsibilities [taking care of guests and horses] I went over to the corral where we left D-man. And there he was: still tied to the post. He had snapped it like a twig off from out of the ground, and pulled back. So he was standing, head down, still tied to a post that had four rails nailed into each side. Well, he definitely learned the 'head down' cue that day.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
My spurs go jingle-jangle...
Howdy ya'll! Upon my return from the wild, wild west I have been caught up in traveling! First off, I headed to the WEG's [World Equestrian Games] in Lexington, Kentucky for the eventing and freestyle reining. Followed by some good ole Hokie Football to re-live my collegiate life [even if only for a few days] and also spent some time riding some fantastic horses for some foxhunting & eventing friends.
But now, I have a tale from the ranch. =)
On my first real day of work, after a week of unloading hay, worming 57 horses and scooping loads after loads of poop, I was pretty relieved to get on a horse again. Domino, a 16 hh bay with a big bald face and giant white splotch on his belly, was my mount for my first ride taking guests out. Woo-hoo!
"Dominator" was what I eventually re-named him.
After heaving my saddle up onto his back, which I was convinced weighed somewhere near 1,000 lbs, and finished putting on all his tack, some starvin' wranglers made their way up for a hearty country cooked breakfast at the lodge. Upon returning to the barn, I was shocked: my horse was gone. Not tied to the post where I left him.
OHMYGOODNESS.
The other female wrangler, for whom it was her third year back at the ranch says, "Where'd your horse go?!" as she shot me a glare. Frantically, I ran to the road. No Domino. Turning, I looked up the ranch's dirt road. No Domino. Defeated, I moseyed back towards the barn, over the bridge and then, a falsh of that big bald white face popped out from the high grass. There he was. Thankfully he was down in the tall grass on the river bank just chomping away. Turd.
That was the day I learned that the Dominator liked to untie himself...and he was darn good at it.
But now, I have a tale from the ranch. =)
On my first real day of work, after a week of unloading hay, worming 57 horses and scooping loads after loads of poop, I was pretty relieved to get on a horse again. Domino, a 16 hh bay with a big bald face and giant white splotch on his belly, was my mount for my first ride taking guests out. Woo-hoo!
"Dominator" was what I eventually re-named him.
After heaving my saddle up onto his back, which I was convinced weighed somewhere near 1,000 lbs, and finished putting on all his tack, some starvin' wranglers made their way up for a hearty country cooked breakfast at the lodge. Upon returning to the barn, I was shocked: my horse was gone. Not tied to the post where I left him.
OHMYGOODNESS.
The other female wrangler, for whom it was her third year back at the ranch says, "Where'd your horse go?!" as she shot me a glare. Frantically, I ran to the road. No Domino. Turning, I looked up the ranch's dirt road. No Domino. Defeated, I moseyed back towards the barn, over the bridge and then, a falsh of that big bald white face popped out from the high grass. There he was. Thankfully he was down in the tall grass on the river bank just chomping away. Turd.
That was the day I learned that the Dominator liked to untie himself...and he was darn good at it.
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