Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Saturday, April 12, 2014

Horsecapades


See? Blue.
When my husband married me, he got more than he expected.
I came with baggage.
More correctly.
Horses.
One was blue in colour.
Aptly and creatively named, 'Bluey'.
Okay, so imaginative, we weren't.
Bluey was . . . not a pretty horse.
She was an appaloosa-cross mare. About ten years old.
Like many of her breed, she had no mane. And an embarrassment for a tail.
But she was gentle and quiet. Patient and un-stampedable.
Perfect for farm kids.
But Bluey had one fault.
She was tall.
Too tall for the average child to climb on unassisted.
And that's where my story starts . . .
Mark and Erik, our two oldest boys, were in Bluey's field.
Playing.
Mark, 4, especially loved to ride.
But neither he nor his younger brother could climb up on their gentle friend.
Even though she was perfectly willing to stand quietly while they tried.
First, it was Erik helping his brother.
But they quickly discovered that three-year-old Erik's muscles simply weren't up to the task.
Finally, Mark had an idea.
He could help his little brother get up on Bluey.
At least one of them could have fun.
I have often imagined the conversation . . .
Mark: “Here, Erik, I'll boost your up.”
Erik (eyeing the mare suspiciously): “I want to go home.”
Mark: “In a minute. First, you get to have a little ride.”
Erik: “Don't want to ride.”
Mark: “Yes you do. It's fun.”
Erik: “Pretty sure I don't.”
Mark: “You're little. What do you know? C'mon.”
Erik: “Sigh.”
He submitted.
Once he was safely installed, Mark stepped back.
And gave the mare a slap. 'To get her going'.
She went.
Right out from under Erik.
Not a good thing.
A short time later, two boys came to the house.
One in tears.
They had both learned an important lesson.
The hardest thing about learning to ride is the ground.

18 comments:

  1. I'm kind of afraid of horses, they're so huge! But wish I'd grown up with them

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They are huge. But chickens are the ones to fear. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

      Delete
  2. I remember the rider for the Pool Community Pasture, Mike, he was known as, used to carry a small transistor radio with him so he could catch up on the news. One day he was on a rather green horse that still needed a little bit of breaking to be a true cow pony. Mike stopped and switched on his radio but found it had gotten stuck between two stations. He didn't realize that the volume was turned up to the max until he tuned into the station. The announcer came in loud and clear, and that horse up and planted him right there. Mike was a little more careful after that.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The last line sums it all up, doesn't it?

    Also, getting your foot stomped on. By the horse, I mean.

    Please note, I know none of this from personal experience, only by watching my daughter at lessons. And she still loves horses. It's a disease! I think you have it, too, Diane!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Totally a disease! And they don't have any inoculations against this one! :)

      Delete
  4. Two life lessons: Be careful around horses. Even nice horses, and don't do everything someone tells you to.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I haven't ridden for some years now. But I learnt to ride when I was a kid with a sack for a saddle and rope for reins. It worked. I fell off a few times...one time narrowly missing a fresh cow pat...but that's the best way to learn to stay on!

    Good times.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Learning without a real saddle teaches balance.
      And tenacity.
      And laundry . . .

      Delete
  6. Oh no! Poor Erik...hope he wasn't hurt at all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know three-year-olds. They're made of rubber . . .

      Delete
  7. It always has been, whether it was below a horse or a bike.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Great post. The best plans sometimes go awry.

    ReplyDelete

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