The gal that looks after us likes to sing to us sometimes when she thinks nobody can hear her – only, unfortunately, we can still hear her. I do like one of the songs she sings to me, though, so I can overlook her lack of tuneality for it. Part of it goes like, “Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses…” And, I ask you, what could be better than that?
Whiskey – that’s me, now – for my men, and for my woman, too. And beer for us horses! Pop a top and pour me a cold one, bartender! And put it on the humans’ tab. Whiskey is good for men, and beer is good for Whiskey. (Now, I’m told that I got to put a “legal disclaimer” here that I ain’t advocating for equine alcohol consumption or for human alcoholism, either. Done.)
The boys back at the ranch where I worked liked to have their cold ones at the end of a long day, and sometimes if they was in a generous mood, they liked to share it with the horses. On one of my first hot days of bein a pleasure horse, my gal was walkin with me around the ranch and she took me over to a big whirrin box-machine and put some little shiny things in it, and it gave her a cold can, like modern technological magic. I nickered under my breath kinda softly, to tell her, “Hey, I know what comes in cold cans, girl! Are you gonna share, or what?”
I guess she thought that was really cute of me, and I gotta admit, I do know how to turn on the charm with the ladies. So I snuffled the can and went wuh-wuh-wuh at her to get her to hurry this thing along, and she popped the top and poured some of that icy liquid straight from horsey heaven into the palm of her hand. But when I went to try drinkin it, it was nasty – worse than Coors, worse than Keystone! Worse, even, than PBR! I can’t even begin to describe the foul, sticky taste it left on this poor old ranch horse’s tongue! I do believe I’ve blocked the memory of it entirely. Another gal that was there laughed and said, “I guess he doesn’t like Coke; he probably thought you had a beer!” Coke?!?! What the hell, I thought, is a Coke?!? Coke, my ass! I shoulda bit her.
Later on the gal and her guy tried what they called an “experiment” and brought me a cold Corona in a bottle. Now that was more like it! I even tilted my head sideways for ‘em to show ‘em I know how to drink my beer straight-up from the bottle, which is a real good party trick for a horse to know so the cowboys’ll give ya even more beer just to watch you do it and make bets with their buddies about whether you can or you can’t do it without spillin a drop.
Well now, since then, do you know how many cold ones those two have shared with me?
Likely none. Can you believe it? Best horse party trick I know, performed for their amusement on demand, and those stingy suds sons-a-nags ain’t cracked the top of one can or bottle for me since. But they do drink their Cokes and such and have the nerve to try to offer me some of that swill to this day. My buddy Original Coors drinks the people’s Cokes – and that about sums him up, don’t it?
No, there ain’t more to the story than this. You got a point to everything you say?
I sure could use a beer right about now.