So you’ve decided to move to the country where ownership of a cowboy hat and cowboy boots does not necessarily make you a cowboy.
Upon reading my last article you may have concluded that through perseverance and a large amount of humility you too can learn to ride a horse. Of course I did add my own observation that testosterone and horses are a potentially hazardous mix.
I will clarify this statement. Testosterone in a city dude and horses are unquestionably a hazardous mix. I derive this conclusion from experience. Please read on.
A few weeks had passed since I learned how to “drive” a horse with some degree of accomplishment; actually my horse allowed me to ride him, when a bright light bulb lit up above Wyatt’s head. If I could ride a horse, then most certainly he could too. So, not to be outdone in the area of equine ownership my brilliant Wyatt comes home with a BLM Mustang. What’s that? You ask. Why it’s a previously wild Mustang that has been caught out on the open plains to thin the wild herds. Meaning, it’s a wild horse. If you think you know what’s coming next you are probably right.
Attempting to bond with our new acquisition Wyatt builds his horse a new stall. Since the temperature never drops below roasting hot in the summer (which is when Wyatt decided to take on this endeavor) Wyatt had his requisite Corona by his side. After a quick slug, he used the side of the chilled bottle to cool his face. His yet to be named mustang trotted nonchalantly over to Wyatt, laid his massive head on Wyatt’s shoulder and deftly stole the darn beer right from his hand, swilling it down like a seasoned bar hound drunk.
Though I was appalled; I now had a horse with a drinking problem; Wyatt felt he had bonded with the wild beast, now appropriately named Boozer. Next step, riding.
Now keep in mind the only time Wyatt has ridden anything with relative horse power other than his motorcycle was when the hogs got out and they took him for a spin around the property.
I will make this as short and painless as possible, well painless for you. Let me start by saying, horses are not dumb animals, I repeat they are not dumb, not by any means. This horse patiently waited in the shade of the scrub oak while Wyatt saddled him, didn’t flinch when the saddle was cinched, didn’t even fight a bit when it was put in his mouth. I knew this horse was waiting for the big score. Wyatt, on the other hand, was impressed with how well he had apparently bonded with his horse. He confidently slipped his boot in the stirrup, pulled himself up by the saddle horn, and threw his leg over.
The rest is history. A wild ride ensued that even a theme park would not be allowed to sell tickets for, and then a trip to the hospital and the subsequent cast on Wyatt’s arm for 4 weeks. Only 4 weeks because he, being full of the same testosterone that got him into trouble in the first place, Dremeled it off.
Drunky horse, Boozer, was never bothered by a rider again…not in this house.
Until next time…welcome to the country.
P.S. To all you real cowboys/cowgirls out there, my hats off to you. You make it look so darn easy and you look good doing it too!
No comments:
Post a Comment