Most folks think that any horse will chase cows, pull a cart, and be a good parade horse, but they are trained different ways, and have different personalities. So some either refuse or just can't do certain things. In my Trahern story, The Quietest Woman in the South, I wrote about a Civil War mule, General Wheezer, who would pull a wagon or a plow, and would let you ride him, on his terms. He was a truly multi-purpose mule. My dad had one of those, a white mule he rode and who also pulled farm equipment.
For many years I rode a mountain-bred horse, Flicka, who was half Morgan and half Quarter horse. She was a working companion, much more than a pet, and loved to eat my peanut butter sandwiches. She would come up behind me and steal a bite if I wasn't paying attention.
She was sure-footed on the mountain trails, and would chase a cow full speed down the hillside. All I had to do was lean back and give her her head. I used this experience in Appaloosa Blues, as I knew what it was like to "fly" on a horse. I would ride from sunup to sundown and sometimes late into the night.
I rode her in parades, but it bored her, and she fought being loaded in a trailer. She did fine in speedy drill team performances, although I had to make sure she missed the other horses, as she was used to pushing cows around and would run right into a horse and rider if I didn't steer her away.
My last year of high school, I was chosen as one of the Rodeo fair court. All the other girls had sorrels, while my mountain horse was a Palomino. So they looked around for a sorrel for me to use as a parade horse, and to ride in the fair.
One of the fair officials found an Arab called Ali, and we brought her out to the ranch for me to ride. They mentioned that she was owned by a woman who rode her once, was bucked off, broke her arm, put the horse out to pasture, and never rode her again.
I saddled her up, and she tried to put her hind foot into the stirrup. I was still on the ground, so spun her around, backwards, and got on and off her, loosening and tightening the cinch, and then spinning her about whenever she tried to hook her foot into the stirrup. Finally she gave up trying.
Next I galloped her out into the fields, doing fine until she stopped abruptly and put her head down. She caught me unprepared, and I flew over her head and landed on my feet, facing her, as I always did when thrown off unexpectedly. So I remounted and galloped her again. This time when she full stopped, I was ready, and made her run full tilt again. Next she started spinning fast to try to throw me off. After all morning doing this and not succeeding, she stopped trying to throw me. Never tried again.
I rode her all summer, along with my mountain horse. Ali was the perfect parade horse. She loaded quickly into a trailer, was calm in the parades, and let people pet her. But she stumbled on the mountain trails and did not know one end of a cow from the other, getting her feet all tangled, so I still used Flicka when herding cattle.
During the rodeo Grand Entry, Ali would gallop full bore up to the other horses and slide into place. For the Grand Entry, everyone rode into the arena one at a time, and stopped abreast in front of the grandstand. It was to introduce the court and present the flags. Ali was the only horse who would run full bore right up to the end of the line, and then slide to a stop, so they had me come in last. She seemed to thrive doing it. She was a great parade horse and riding horse, even if she didn't know how to stand upright on a steep slope.
For many years I rode a mountain-bred horse, Flicka, who was half Morgan and half Quarter horse. She was a working companion, much more than a pet, and loved to eat my peanut butter sandwiches. She would come up behind me and steal a bite if I wasn't paying attention.
She was sure-footed on the mountain trails, and would chase a cow full speed down the hillside. All I had to do was lean back and give her her head. I used this experience in Appaloosa Blues, as I knew what it was like to "fly" on a horse. I would ride from sunup to sundown and sometimes late into the night.
I rode her in parades, but it bored her, and she fought being loaded in a trailer. She did fine in speedy drill team performances, although I had to make sure she missed the other horses, as she was used to pushing cows around and would run right into a horse and rider if I didn't steer her away.
My last year of high school, I was chosen as one of the Rodeo fair court. All the other girls had sorrels, while my mountain horse was a Palomino. So they looked around for a sorrel for me to use as a parade horse, and to ride in the fair.
One of the fair officials found an Arab called Ali, and we brought her out to the ranch for me to ride. They mentioned that she was owned by a woman who rode her once, was bucked off, broke her arm, put the horse out to pasture, and never rode her again.
I saddled her up, and she tried to put her hind foot into the stirrup. I was still on the ground, so spun her around, backwards, and got on and off her, loosening and tightening the cinch, and then spinning her about whenever she tried to hook her foot into the stirrup. Finally she gave up trying.
Next I galloped her out into the fields, doing fine until she stopped abruptly and put her head down. She caught me unprepared, and I flew over her head and landed on my feet, facing her, as I always did when thrown off unexpectedly. So I remounted and galloped her again. This time when she full stopped, I was ready, and made her run full tilt again. Next she started spinning fast to try to throw me off. After all morning doing this and not succeeding, she stopped trying to throw me. Never tried again.
I rode her all summer, along with my mountain horse. Ali was the perfect parade horse. She loaded quickly into a trailer, was calm in the parades, and let people pet her. But she stumbled on the mountain trails and did not know one end of a cow from the other, getting her feet all tangled, so I still used Flicka when herding cattle.
During the rodeo Grand Entry, Ali would gallop full bore up to the other horses and slide into place. For the Grand Entry, everyone rode into the arena one at a time, and stopped abreast in front of the grandstand. It was to introduce the court and present the flags. Ali was the only horse who would run full bore right up to the end of the line, and then slide to a stop, so they had me come in last. She seemed to thrive doing it. She was a great parade horse and riding horse, even if she didn't know how to stand upright on a steep slope.
