Shortly before my retirement from Uncle Sam's Navy, the family BR trekked to Yakima to visit the Cowboy-in-law. While there, he took Mrs. BR and DN2 on a horseback ride in the hills behind his farm. I, on the other hand, went to KFC and picked up dinner. At some point in the dinner conversation, he mentioned that if Mrs. BR wanted to start riding again, he would gladly donate one of his horses. That seemed to be the end of it.
Now, I knew full well that Mrs. BR was an avid rider as kid. However, up to this point, I had not one inkling that this passion was merely dormant, as opposed to extinct. Imagine, if you will, my surprise when one day in May, 2005, the Cowboy-in-Law shows up with a horse trailer containing a retired team roping horse named Blue Boy, which he promptly deposits, and then drives off.
Mrs. BR, DN2, & DN3 threw themselves into this new activity with a passion. I would occasionally go out and watch them, but, truth be told, at this point I was fairly unenthused, and left them to their own devices.
Several months later, Mrs. BR purchased a mare named Taylor (a story for another day). The herd was growing. I was still decidedly uninterested in these rather large hay burners.
Quite honestly, I am unable to recall the moment or the reason that interest in horses took hold of me. I don't know if it was a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" situation or what. Just suffice it to say, that by the Fall of that same year, I was on the search for a horse to call my own. With no real knowledge to speak of, and utterly uncertain of what I was looking for, the search got off to a rather difficult start.
Then I came across an advertisement containing this picture:
I wanted that horse. No questions asked. There was just one minor kink in the plan. His price tag was just a bit too steep for my wallet. Back to the search.
But, wait!!! Via a little bird, I learned that the asking price had been lowered. Within my budget to boot. Salvation.
Long story short, within days I was the proud owner of a 16 year old Appendix Quarter Horse, with the registered name of Master Alamo Joe, aka Smokey.
This picture was taken two days before I signed papers:
What a sad sack he was, apparently. Although I don't recall him looking this bad. I just remember that in my eyes, he was the perfect horse. An opinion that hasn't changed in the ensuing 4 years.
This is Smokey two days ago:
More on Old Joe in the next post.
9 comments:
He's beautiful!
What Christina said!
Now me... I find it supremely interesting how one's interests develop. Who could possibly know or understand how these things come to be, just on the surface? Which, of course, is one of the reasons I find your blog so danged interesting, Buckskins. Write on!!
He is the most beautiful horse I have ever seen. I am so so jealous. In a nice way.
You've got me waiting for the next installment - wonderful story telling!
Thanks everyone. More to come.
Alison: I agree with your comment wholeheartedly. Of course, I may be just a tad biased.
It's funny how you'll just be kind of looking at maybe buying something, then BANG, you fall in love and have to have it.
You know what you need to go with that handsome horse? A couple of chickens. ;-)
Sad, Daphne, just sad.
no chickens! sorry!
I never tried to hide my passion for horses, but it was hard to be excited about horses living in Southern California with a husband on a submarine, 3 amazing daughters, a dog, a cat and LIFE getting in the way of my passion. Then one day I could not contain it any longer! And to my astonishment, my husband and 2/3 of my children have fallen in step! I am truly blessed! I love your blog honey!
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