As I grew, I was on the constant lookout for a horse. If we visited someone, I would look to see if they had a horse. If they did! off I went! It didn't matter if that horse was broke. It didn't matter if that horse was big or little... I had to go see it. Driving down the road, I would look at herds of cattle and see if I could spot a horse amidst them. I was addicted.
We had some friends that had a naughty but wonderful palomino pony named Rusty. We spent a lot of time on their farm when I was growing up. The boy who lived there is now married to my cousin. They still live on that place and that place is where my dear Johnnie is buried. I have a lot of memories in the land there.
Rusty taught me a lot. He taught me that although ponies are small... that doesn't make them any easier to get on if they don't want you to. And although ponies are small, that doesn't make the ground any less hard when you hit it! And although ponies are small, they still weigh a lot and have sharp little hooves that will run over the top of you as you are writhing on the ground trying not to cry. You gotta love ponies! lol
One memorable experience I have with Rusty is the night we discovered electric fence that had just been put up. Neither of us realized this until we ran smack in to it. It was dark out. The folks were in the house visiting and as always... I ran to fetch Rusty. It's funny how now I would be a nervous wreck knowing my 6yo daughter was outside in the dark riding off on a cantankerous pony. But they didn't seem to mind! I guess they thought I was occupied and out of their hair?
So Rusty and I were running around in the dark when suddenly he went straight up into the air. The last thing I remember before I went flying was the pretty blue arc of electricity that outlined his perfect fuzzy little ears before I hit the ground. HOLY COW! that smarted.
Rusty was old at that point and he died a few years later. He sure was fun and taught me a lot about horses.
When I was eight years old, Dad told me we were taking a drive. We drove out to the country and on to a place where I knew there were horses. We pulled into the drive and the man was holding a scrawny straggly but BEAUTIFUL 2yo stallion. Dad said "Well? what will you name him?" Omg... he was mine???? He was MINE!!!!! I said "His name will be Rowdy."
So Rusty and I were running around in the dark when suddenly he went straight up into the air. The last thing I remember before I went flying was the pretty blue arc of electricity that outlined his perfect fuzzy little ears before I hit the ground. HOLY COW! that smarted.
Rusty was old at that point and he died a few years later. He sure was fun and taught me a lot about horses.
When I was eight years old, Dad told me we were taking a drive. We drove out to the country and on to a place where I knew there were horses. We pulled into the drive and the man was holding a scrawny straggly but BEAUTIFUL 2yo stallion. Dad said "Well? what will you name him?" Omg... he was mine???? He was MINE!!!!! I said "His name will be Rowdy."
That started a whole new adventure in my life. I was in love for the first time in my life and I couldn't have been more ecstatic. I got on him bareback and Dad led me around the place. One interesting note, is that I now live on that place where we found Rowdy 38 years ago.
Rowdy and I had many many adventures. He wasn't broke, but by gawd, I rode him! I rode him everywhere. At first Dad forbid me to get on him when he wasn't around. Yeah, like that was going to work. I was on that horse every minute I had a chance. I rode him with a piece of twine because I didn't have a bridle. I rode him bareback because I didn't have a saddle. I rode and rode and rode. He bucked me off many times, and he bit me, and once he even kicked me. I didn't care.
As we grew older, we grew together. I got a bridle, and I got a saddle, but I still had to ride bareback until I was strong enough to get that saddle up on his back. That took quite a few more years.
Rowdy and I would run errands for Mom. We lived on the edge of town, so Rowdy had a pasture out back. Mom would send us downtown (it's a very small town) to my aunt's grocery store to pick up things. We would trot down the hill and I would tie him to her back fence in the alley. I'd go get the purchases she wanted, bag them up and perform a precarious balancing act on the fence while he tried to master the step-away-just-as-she jumps maneuver.
The picture here of Rowdy is one in that alley. My aunt came out back, took a picture, and had it made in to a calender for me. I still have it.
Rowdy and I had many many adventures. He wasn't broke, but by gawd, I rode him! I rode him everywhere. At first Dad forbid me to get on him when he wasn't around. Yeah, like that was going to work. I was on that horse every minute I had a chance. I rode him with a piece of twine because I didn't have a bridle. I rode him bareback because I didn't have a saddle. I rode and rode and rode. He bucked me off many times, and he bit me, and once he even kicked me. I didn't care.
As we grew older, we grew together. I got a bridle, and I got a saddle, but I still had to ride bareback until I was strong enough to get that saddle up on his back. That took quite a few more years.
Rowdy and I would run errands for Mom. We lived on the edge of town, so Rowdy had a pasture out back. Mom would send us downtown (it's a very small town) to my aunt's grocery store to pick up things. We would trot down the hill and I would tie him to her back fence in the alley. I'd go get the purchases she wanted, bag them up and perform a precarious balancing act on the fence while he tried to master the step-away-just-as-she jumps maneuver.
The picture here of Rowdy is one in that alley. My aunt came out back, took a picture, and had it made in to a calender for me. I still have it.
Rowdy and I went on to try the show ring. There are so many stories that I can't put them all in here at once, but let's just say that he won me and several other young girls our first trophies. Everyone loved Rowdy.
He was pretty much conformationally incorrect, but he would do anything for you. Being a horse, he was pretty good at doing what he wanted if a novice rider was on him. I'd shout his name, he'd look at me... you could see him sigh, and then he'd behave. He was so fun. He had so much personality.
A few years later, Dad brought home 10 Arabs and half-Arabs from Missouri. In that bunch was a 4yo gray mare who became mine. She had never been touched by human hands until we got her. A year later she won Grand Champion Arabian in halter at our County Fair. I had number 124 on that day, and I believe it was Friday the 13th. I still wear #124 at shows. I don't always win, but it's a tribute to her.
She was lanky when we got her and Dad thought she looked like a spider. A friend of ours who was from the Rosebud Tribe in South Dakota told us the Sioux name for black spider was Unktomi. Dad heard it as Icktomia and she was then called Icky for the rest of her time with us.
She was lanky when we got her and Dad thought she looked like a spider. A friend of ours who was from the Rosebud Tribe in South Dakota told us the Sioux name for black spider was Unktomi. Dad heard it as Icktomia and she was then called Icky for the rest of her time with us.
She went on to be an all-around horse for me. We won at showmanship, placed ok in pleasure, placed well in horsemanship, and she was fast like the wind and we did well in speed events too. We bred her after a few years and I got to witness the birth of that foal. A few of the younger girls also borrowed her for shows after I went off to college.
There are a lot more stories about her too, but I'll save them for another day. In the meantime, let's just say that she was also instrumental in my journey of horsemanship.
There have been a lot of horses before, during, and after these three. These three are special because of the bumps, bruises, mistakes, challenges, and accomplishments occurring in my youth.
Tributes to Rusty, Rowdy, and Icky. You did an excellent job and I thank you.
There have been a lot of horses before, during, and after these three. These three are special because of the bumps, bruises, mistakes, challenges, and accomplishments occurring in my youth.
Tributes to Rusty, Rowdy, and Icky. You did an excellent job and I thank you.
4 comments:
Great tribute to some special horses in your life. I was like you, a child always looking for horses in pastures as we drove down the road. Especially is someone was riding alongside the road, I just loved that!
Was Rowdy gelded at some point? My second pony was a little 2 yr. old colt that was gelded right before we brought him home. He was a troublemaker and got worse not better, unfortunately. We had to get rid of him because he really became a danger (rearing and biting.) I always felt bad about that, like we failed him. But I was 12 and inexperienced!
Oh yes... he was gelded as a 3yo I think. He was a pretty good young stud though. Or maybe it was because I didn't know any better! HA!
But he did sire one filly! Some neighbors had a pony they wanted bred. Rowdy was a daddy once. The filly's name was April. I have NO idea where she ended up.
You need to write a children's book about your dad. Cracked me up that Icky got her name because he mispronounced it in the first place!!
In that top picture, you look a lot like Ness. The colored one of you at the bottom looks like you.
That very top picture is Dad!!! Is that the one that you think looks like Ness? Omg, she'll die! lolol
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