I never been much of a horse for braggin. Until I came to live on the County Island, I never even knew a horse could hold much of an opinion, nor say that opinion out loud, without facin consequences. If you told a cowboy by your pawin at the ground or fidgetin you was tired of standin still so long, likely they made you stand still for even longer. If you bucked to say I don’t care for this saddle or your fat ass, pardon my French, in it, or this here cinch’s too tight around my belly, they’d put you to work harder and longer. So a ranch horse learns to follow the rules, and a smart ranch horse learns to appreciate the rules.
But then I saw the County Island horses expressin all manner of ridiculous opinions on things, and gettin away with it. And then they started with the braggin. The worst braggin that I like tell of is my buddy Coors Light, who does like to go on about how he’s a made-up thing that’s called a national champion in prancin around in circles. Oh, they gave him purty flowers to wear around his neck, he says. And oh, how he was so sparklin white and shiny. Like shiny’s got anythin to do with a horse gettin a job done right. And like flowers is any kinda reward for a job well done when any sane horse would rather have a swig of a cowboy’s beer. Or a carrot, or a cookie. Or, better yet, a day off from workin.
Now, I am a patient horse as well as a respectful one. So I listened to him a long, long while, tellin tales of prancin and trainin, and havin all the people admirin him and fussin and cooin all over him tellin him what a special horse he was. I finally did have to let him have it with a little bit of four-hooved fury, around about the time we was havin the Bad Hawks set in here on the County Island, but it was, I tell you, a long time comin.
Which is a roundabout way of tellin y’all I could use a favor. You see, I got to get my own braggin rights. And the way y’all can help is by tellin all the people on all the County Islands everywhere about this here talkin, bloggin ranch horse.
This here is the Equestrian, which is a high-falutin way of sayin horse, Social Media Awards, and this right here is the ballot they got, and the ballots got all the easy rules you need to know and follow: http://abbeyviewequine.com/awards
I’m kinda proud to be what’s called a nominee for the categories of Talkin Animal (number 11) and Newcomer (number 15). I never been a nominee for nothin until now. And I’d be much obliged if y’all would go and cast your people-votes for a wise old palomino ranch pony.
That’d be me, Whiskey.
I’d love nothin more than to have a award the likes of that to shove in ol’ Coors Light’s face. Take that, national prancin champion! I’d be a bonafide international champion! Well, alright, that’s a lie. There are lots of things I’d like to have more, like more alfalfa hay, and more bucket times durin the day, and more time for naps.