Masked Men

17 May

The other mornin when me and my horse buddies Coors and Coors Light was bein tossed our breakfast, one of the people that walks back and forth across the County Island every mornin, doin what the people call exercisin before work (‘cause, as we all know by now, what they call “work” ain’t what I called “work” back on the ranch—horses that work on the ranch for a livin do not exercise before work, ‘cause work is exercise aplenty!), diverted from his usual trail and stopped to ask our bucket gal a question.

First off, he didn’t talk real proper-like. He tawked like dis. I try not to judge, but a horse couldn’t help but notice he sounded different than most of the folks we got here. Coors Light said it meant he was from a place that’s called New Yawk, but Coors Light says a lot of things.

But he had a friendly tone, as much as I reckon a stranger to me can have, ‘cause I generally don’t trust strangers. I got no reason to. And I try to keep an eye on our bucket gal when she’s got strangers talkin to her when she’s alone with us outside in our corral, ‘cause if somethin untimely happened to her, we’d likely not get fed, and gettin fed’s priority numero uno to a horse.

“Hey, I got a question for youse,” the stranger said to our bucket gal. “How come you and all da people up and down da block put da blindfolds on the hawses?” I’m purty sure he meant horses.

She told him our blindfolds is called “fly masks,” and they’re for keepin the flies from botherin our eyes in the hot time, and how they’re made of mesh so we can see through ’em.

This explanation seemed to satisfy the stranger from New Yawk, who previously, I suppose, was walkin around under the assumption that all us hawses couldn’t even see the hay in front of our own hooves.

“Hey, I figured it was somethin like dat,” he said, and he shrugged and gestured with his hands. “So now I know – you don’ ask, you don’ know!”

And he wished her a good day, and she wished him a good one back, and that was the end of that.

I kinda like that philosophy of the stranger from New Yawk: You don’ ask, you don’ know. But mostly I try not to ask. I already know too much.


Posted by on May 17, 2011 in Uncategorized


4 responses to “Masked Men

  1. Coiote

    May 17, 2011 at 9:16 pm

    My bucket gal tells ’em somethin else when strangers ask that. ‘Specially strangers from New Yawk. She tells ’em that we wear them so when we play “capture the flag” we know who is on the same team. Whatever that means. But one time when she said it, I grabbed my old buddy Terrapin’s fly mask and pulled it right off, just cause I like the sound of it rippin, and she said “see?”


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