I’ve been working on a thankfulness journal, challenged by Sherry over at Fern Valley Appaloosas. What a blessing that has been, to be forced to sit down and actually think of the things I am thankful for. I didn’t realize how hard it would be this month.
Today it is my crazy old horse Pic. He has been a trial of my patience for the last 12 years. But he and I have finally understood each other and I say his name with great reverence now. I think I have found a place in his heart as well.
My cowboy bought him back in the days when he was a header and working for bigger money than what a cowboy makes. He cost more than we could ever afford now.
He was not a practice/jackpot horse; he was taught to give you one spectacular shot and earn you money at a big payout rodeo. He likes to run and run fast (faster than I ever want to go).
When we ‘retired’ (from making money to cowboying for a living) and moved to the ranch Pic was commissioned into service as a cowhorse. Too frustrating for my cowboy to ride he came to my string by default.
The first time I used him I was moving two bulls who didn’t like each other and had taken them a couple of miles with Pic jigging to go and flinging his head every time I picked up the reins. Finally he upset the bulls too long and they left the country about 1/2 mile from the corrals. I screamed, I cried, I got off and walked the last 1/2 miles swearing I would never ride that stupid horse again. But I did, for the last 11-12 years.
I’ve seen a lot from between those ears.
Sitting on his strong back feels better than sitting in the most comfortable chair you can imagine.
He’s learned to watch a bull and match his pace to their lumbering agonizingly slow cadence.
He’s kept me safe at speeds that make my eyes water so that I can hardly see. I learned never to doubt that if I need to get somewhere fast he’ll do that for me.
He and I together have helped a lot of cattle.
Sometimes he’s been my only shade on a hot long day on the prairie.
I can hardly count the miles we’ve traveled together following around my cowboy.
But best of all, we’re friends. When he sees me come out to the field he comes and puts his head in the halter or just lingers for a pat and a scratch.