Horsin' around

The old guy looks pretty good, and it felt pretty good to take him for a spin down the road yesterday afternoon. My big bay gelding Rambo will turn 22 this year, which is hard to believe. It seems like just yesterday that he shot into the world in our barnyard around 2 a.m. the day after the Fourth of July in 1985. His mother was a huge black Quarter Horse mare named Mrs. Black.

His dad was my sister's Arabian stallion named Sunrise Request, a beautiful and smart-performing show horse who met a tragic end from a twisted intestine when he was just 7 years old. Ricky passed along his smarts and his refinement, while Mrs. Black gave Rambo size----16 hands, to be exact.

Rambo's been through a lot of medical difficulties during his life---fractured forearm which kept him from going to the Arabian Nationals as a show hack and hunter horse, a fistula on his urethra which cost lots and lots of bucks to diagnose, blindness in one eye from uveitis, and blindness in the other from a displaced lens. Nonetheless, Rambo has a lot of common sense and maintains a good attitude, even though he occasionally bumps into stuff up close like barns and stall boards.

I decided to take him out on a solo ride down South Center Valley Road yesterday. Whinnying a bit to his whinnying friends who were racing around the barnyard pasture as we left and returned, he did pay attention to business for most of the ride.The only disappointment came from those sharp rocks which were a bit too much for his unshod hind hooves. As long as cars weren't coming, we could plod on down the middle of the road away from the rocks.

He also has an uncanny sense of smell or possibly a little vision left in the eye with the displaced lens because as we neared Jack Filipowski's field of Hereford cows and calves, he acted like the old Rambo. Looking their direction and dancing off to the side of the road for fear those cows might come and get him, he eventually decided they were okay and moved on.

I don't think I'll take him on the road again unless he gets some shoes behind, but I do know that he's as good as ever on a ride by himself. I've always said Rambo is one of my heroes because he's never let a handicap get in the way of his job of acting like a horse. He's the boss of the herd and they approach him with great respect----except when he's trying to get a snooze.

I've gone out several times to see Lily standing near him with three legs on the ground and a front leg resting on Rambo's side. He tries to sleep, but cusses at her adequately until she goes off to find someone else to bother.

And, speaking of Lily, she had her first session in the round pen yesterday. It's obvious she's had some experience in an Oklahoma round pen because she walked through the gate and went right to work. It will be nice to have the facility where she'll perfect her longeing, get the feel of a saddle on her back, learn some ground driving and eventually get the feel of a saddle and a human on her back. I've got plenty of patience in regard to the latter, but if I am that human and live to tell about it, there'll definitely be another good horse story.

My next goal for this spring is to get Casey hitched up in the cart and see if we can go down the road without creating some Amish kindling. If successful, that could turn into a full-time hobby, and I wouldn't mind that a bit.

My horses are unimpressed with all the plans I have for them this year. They just stand out there in their barnyard pasture and keep communicating to me, through their wistful expressions, that the grass sure does look greener on the other side of their fence. So far, the fence and I have been able to withstand their strong desire to get a taste of that lush stuff.

That won't last long though. They'll soon be out for short periods of time grazing, getting slicked up and looking beautiful in the fields of green, and I'm looking forward to enjoying that scene every day.