The Thing That Happened One Time

25 Aug

It seems to me, the answer is likely early weanin — not that an old ranch horse should know the answer, nor, to tell the truth, not that a horse should even go around askin the question in the first place. But this particular time, I’m pretty sure it’s the answer, and that people would be better off if they did things one thing at a time, like horses do — at least, based upon the way my horse-buddy Coors Light tells the story. And, this one time, I’m goin to let him tell his own story. I hope I don’t live to regret this…



The Thing That Happened One Time,

by Coors Light

OK, so, you guys all know what Whiskey thinks about “multi-tasking.” OK. So. This was a day when I got to go for a trail ride, instead of schooling dressage? Those are the best days, because I already know a LOT of dressage, so I don’t need to school it; our bucket gal does. She should go do dressage without me. SMH…

So, anyways, trail rides are my favorite, because I get to go on the buckle, and I get to walk along slowly, which gives me time to think deep thoughts. I like to think about everything from analyzing soil composition and the angle variation between slopes I’m walking down to where the best place to place my hooves might be, to how the rate of speed of a breeze might influence my own lack of forward motion, based on advanced calculus and a lot of geometry, which a lot of people mistake for laziness, but it’s not. I rock geometry, in and out of the dressage arena. I also like to think about finding the softest sandy spot to lie down in, if I can get away with it, but, after what happened last time, our bucket gal’s totally on to me.

So, we were walking slowly up a dirt road, and I was thinking about vectors, and then IDK why, but a tiny fluffy dog came barking and running straight at my hooves. You know how the little dogs are the worst? Yeah, so, I totally ignored him, because I’m totally bombproof, no matter what you may have heard from Whiskey.

So, there was a tiny fluffy barking dog at my front feet, and jumping up and down and telling me how he wanted a piece of me. Yeah, right. And then right behind him, a woman came running at us, shouting at the dog like THAT was gonna do any good. She was totally waddling like a duck, because she was wearing a flip-flops, which make people walk like ducks, and she was VERY much in foal.

So, then right behind HER came a totally naked galloping small child, galloping as fast as it could. And right behind the totally naked galloping small child came a slightly older child, riding one of those tiny little-kid bicycles with extra wheels. Only I think the tiny bicycle was in charge of itself, because it was careening pretty wildly, and it barely stopped careening under my chin. And the flip-flopping, waddling in-foal lady was trying to simultaneously call back the tiny fluffy dog, yell at the naked galloping child to get back in the house, and yell at the wildly careening bicycle child to get off the bike and “DON’T SPOOK THE HORSE.”

So, as I stood there quietly while she tried to get everybody back in line — while she apologized profusely to our bucket gal, who was at least half as amused by the whole thing as I was — it totally reminded me of my own dam!

One time, my dam raised three foals at the same time! I’m totally serious. She had her own colt, and then she adopted twin colts who I guess lost their own dam somehow. My dam was ALL kinds of awesome! The flip-floppy lady was trying her best, but even while I was in the middle of analyzing the most efficient trajectory we could take to get us straight back home (which, to outside observers, probably looked like I was just standing there with my eyes half-shut), I could tell she was overwhelmed. You know when mares scrunch their noses and pin their ears, and just start air-kicking and squealing at nothing to make their point? The lady would totally have done it if she could.

But she didn’t. And I didn’t spook. I just stood there like a rock — a rock STAR, that is. She grabbed the dog and tucked it under one arm, and scooped up the naked small child under the other arm, and nudged the bicycle child with the toe of her flip-flop and instructed it to get. back. to. the. driveway. right. now. Which it did, after cheerfully telling me, “Goodbye, horsie!”

And that was the thing that happened one time. The end. TTFN!

 One Time tricycle


1 Comment

Posted by on August 25, 2013 in Uncategorized


One response to “The Thing That Happened One Time

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