His name was Red Eagle. I remember looking at him in askance at first. I was eight years old and this was to be my first real horseback riding lesson. In my horse daydreams, I’d imagined a magnificent white horse to carry me across fields and over fences. Never did I imagine riding something so …speckled. He was an Appaloosa, I was told, and that’s what they looked like. My sister’s horse was much prettier: a creamy Palomino with a white mane and tail. But horses, like books, should never be judged by their appearance. A less than pleasing exterior does not necessarily mean a less than pleasing interior. Such...
Play-by-play – the life of a rodeo pickup man
From the Canby Rodeo – rounding up a bucking horse after it successfully tossed its rider. This is just a glimpse at the day in the life of rodeo pickup men:
Guest Post: Owning Horses Helped Me Become a Better Writer
I had loved horses for as long as I can remember. I grew up watching the westerns of the 1960s with my Dad, and my affection for horses and cowboys has never waivered. When I was young, I read every horse book I could get my hands on, from Misty of Chincoteague to the thick books in the Black Stallion series. Here’s a tidbit that might make you smile. I grew up in a Christian home, so when I read Son of the Black Stallion and discovered the horse’s name was Satan, I changed it to Satin. I just didn’t want to keep reading the other word over and over....
Guest Post: Saddle Talk with Sue Harrison
When I was eight years old, my best friend’s mom took a group of us kids to the fair. We decided to spend some of our tickets on a pony ride. I had my heart set on the little white pony. He was lovely. However, while I was waiting my turn in line, the guy who was in charge came over and told me in a loud voice that I was too fat to ride the white pony. I had to ride the brown. The brown pony was homely and ordinary, and I was disappointed. I was also embarrassed. My weight had been a problem for a couple of years, and...