As you fans certainly know as you are reading all these stories, Tim and I led a rather "interesting" childhood to say the least! We lived our "kid life" to the fullest! To us it was just a "normal" existence having had no one else to compare it to. I have always been very thankful that we grew up on a farm, and that we are all still here on our family farm, which has been in the family for 5 generations. Actually, counting all of our kids, it is now the 6^th generation. Amidst all of this, I can't imagine life without being surrounded by all kinds of animals. I've related past accounts of some of the dogs, cats, and pigs we had. However, it occurred to me that I haven't mentioned very much about all the horses we had during our youth and beyond. Some of which were the following: Champ, Sonny Boy, Flax, Beckett, Lady Kay, Misty, Missy. Ava and I presently have 7 ½   horses. (One of our broodmares is expecting on or about March 10^th.)  Don't worry, I'll send and post plenty of pictures since I'm sure none of you would want to miss out. Hey, who doesn't like to see pictures of foals? Too bad it's not due April 1^st, and then it would be April "Foal's" Day". (Ok Ok, I know, that's corny).

 

When we were kids and had our horses, it seemed like all of our rural neighbors had a horse too. Very often, all we kids would get together and form a "posse" to go after the "bad guys", whom were mainly stage coach and/or bank robbers. Now and then, we would go after "murderers" and other riff raff with our well-armed posse. In those days, we "cleaned up" our entire area and caused all the rest of the "outlaws" to get out of town before sundown. It seemed in those days, I rarely rode alone, having discovered that it was much more fun to ride in a group. In addition, I didn't want to run into any tough hombres without the protection of a well-armed posse. Our posses were unusual in that in most all cases, I was the only guy with an otherwise all girl posse.  During that "girls-have-cooties" stage, it never bothered me to be in those all girl posses since the capture of outlaws was much more important at that particular time than the high risk of getting cooties. At the very location my humble house now sits; there were 2 old horse wagons. As a kid, I always had visions of harnessing up one of the horses to one of them. This also would have come in handy because I could have had a chuck wagon so we could have some grub while on the trail of the outlaws.

 

Sometimes we would ride each other's horses just for a change. One of my neighbors and classmates was Emily Hill. Unfortunately, I can't recall the name of her horse just now. One day we were riding in our southeast field and I decided we would swap horses for the time being. She got on Flax, and I got on her horse. Before we started off, she warned me that her horse my take off running with a different rider. She stated that if the horse would decide to take off and wouldn't stop, that I could stop it by throwing the reins over its head. Well, of course the horse immediately took off at full gallop while throwing in some bucks and crow hops just to add to my humiliation. It wouldn't stop for me the normal way by my pulling back on the reins. It finally dawned on me that she said to throw the reins over its head to stop in this situation. Since we all tied our reins together to form a loop, I threw them over its head. Well, it stopped all right. It was an immediate stop and of course, obeying the laws of physics, I flew right over its head and hit the ground after a complete flip right on my rear! Emily's hysterical laughing was contagious and soon I was hardily laughing too! We remounted our own horses and rode merrily on. Several years later, about 10 years ago, one of my mares, Lady Kay, unexpectedly threw me and I went way up in the air and landed right on my tailbone and got the wind knocked out of me. Lady Kay came back and sniffed me and had an "I'm sorry about that look". A lot of good that did me since I landed right on my bad disk. Gee, I just can't understand why I've had a bad back the last several years. After a lifetime of riding horses, I'd always fancied myself a good rider. Oh well, I've always found comfort in the old saying, "There ain't a horse that can't be rode, and a cowboy that can't be throwed"! I guess that happens now and then even to the best of us. On the other hand, this isn't any comfort when the 5^th Lumbar in my tailbone starts sending me nasty messages. Horse back riding is indeed a dangerous endeavor. So is riding a motorcycle. I did both in those days. I wonder if I have some subconscious death wish, or lean toward sadistic tendencies. Oh well, if I have to go, it may as well be when I'm doing something I enjoy.

 

We used to gallop at full speed across the fields and I now marvel that the horses never tripped in a woodchuck hole and fell and broke their leg, not to mention ours. I've always preferred to have all the falling horses roll over only Hollywood stunt men and not me. I've always wondered where I could get a "Hollywood" horse since they go anywhere you want them to, stand in the same place without tying them, dive into water, swim, never need water or feed, and never "drop apples". On the other hand, that kind of a horse wouldn't be a challenge to me, so I won't bother "Googling" "Where to Buy Hollywood Horses".

 

Back in the 1960's, there were so many horses around, that Berlin Heights eventually put up a sign on the edge of town that stated, "Horse and Rider Keep Off Sidewalk". I always was amused by that. It probably caused strangers to assume that Berlin Heights was an Amish community. Years ago there used to be an old hitching post by the Congregational Church that was made out of lead pipes. Even though I rarely rode a horse in town, it was nice to know there was a hitching post there. It's just as well I didn't ride into town, since I would have no doubt ridden on the sidewalk just because there was a sign that said not to. I was always like that. I would have liked to have seen Warren Lee, who was the village Constable at that time, try to arrest me and the horse! Now days I would be known as a strong willed child. My mother always referred to it as "Being a brat". When kids are strong willed and difficult, they are always called brats until they are 21 and become adults, then they are called Jerks.

 

I've always had horses around to help me maintain a "stable" state of mind. As a matter of fact, if everyone had a horse, this country would be much more "stabilized", don't you think. Well, dear reader, I guess I've indulged in enough "horse" play for now and will resist the temptation to go on with more horse puns. If you own a horse and decide to ride it to my place and join my "Posse", just remember not to ride on the sidewalk going through Berlin Heights!

Happy Trails to You...