Equestrian Blogs > JUST A HORSE...

JUST A HORSE...

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1 year ago
From time to time, people tell me, "Lighten up it's just a horse." or, "That's a lot of money for just a horse."

They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the cost involved for "just a horse."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a horse."

Many hours have passed when my only companion was "just a horse." But I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a horse."

In those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a horse" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you think it's "just a horse," then you probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a horse," brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

"Just a horse," brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person.

Because of "just a horse" I will rise early, work hard, and look longingly to the future.

So for me and some folks like me, It's not "just a horse" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future... the fond memories of the past... and the pure joy of the moment...

"Just a horse," brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope someday they can understand it's not"just a horse," but the thing that gives me humanity...and keeps me from being..."just a person."

Anonymous

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1 year ago
Quoting author:
It's not "just a horse" I agree and I hear those comments all the time. There are some great poems and comments here. Thanks for sharing. I would like to share a story of my herd.....my mom passed away last spring. She lived in Ohio and I was gone for 3 weeks for her final days. When I came home and went to feed for the first time in 3 weeks, I was very heart heavy of course. My three horses came up to me, with there heads held low and circled me and just stood. I started to cry and I know they knew. We stood there for 15 - 20 minutes. The comfort they offered, far exceeded any humans. They felt my heart, and they knew. It is good to know there are people that get that and know, they will never be "just a horse"

Thanks for the comment, and I have experienced similar feelings with horses... Anyone who thinks a horse doesn't know what you are feeling is "just dead wrong" I always tell people before you ever approach a horse clear your mind they can sense if you are angry or had a bad day and will pick up on it I believe this is why some people have "horse problems" and can drive a horse to a state of neurosis. but an occasional visit to alleviate a situation is ok and it tells the horse you are not all human...
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It's not "just a horse" I agree and I hear those comments all the time. There are some great poems and comments here. Thanks for sharing. I would like to share a story of my herd.....my mom passed away last spring. She lived in Ohio and I was gone for 3 weeks for her final days. When I came home and went to feed for the first time in 3 weeks, I was very heart heavy of course. My three horses came up to me, with there heads held low and circled me and just stood. I started to cry and I know they knew. We stood there for 15 - 20 minutes. The comfort they offered, far exceeded any humans. They felt my heart, and they knew. It is good to know there are people that get that and know, they will never be "just a horse"

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1 year ago
OLD COOSIE...

"Somthin's got Old Coosie mad,"
the kid whispered as we roused up.
"He's cussin' fierce and whangin' pots.
We may not get no chuck!"
I stomped into my hightops
and answered, "Don't you fret.
He gets like this from time to time, but not a mans gone hungry yet."

"I ain't so shore," the kid replied.
"His eyes are lookin' grim.
I saw 'em by the firelight and they're frosty round the rims."
"Kid, I tell you, it's ok.
Coosie gets like this some morns.
He wakes up recallin' his cowhand days' and it puts him in a storm.

"That he's too stoved to cowboy and throw his hoolian,
And catch him up a cold-backed hoss and ride the rough off him.
You know, he's got more horse sense than any five of us.
But when we ride off he'll still be here, cleanin' dishes up.

"I've known Coosie a bunch of years.
We used to partner up a lot.
He was sure 'nuf cowboy, Kid, and that's what makes him hot.
That old man knows cattle, Son.
He knows 'em tail to horn.
Why, ever'cowman's trick I got, I learned from watchin' him.

"And does he know hosses!
Boy, you've never seen the like!
He reads and understands 'em, and they understand him back.
I've seen him take them snuffy bronks that no one else could fork,
And in no time at all they'd be linin' out for work.

"I tell you what you do, Kid.
When Old Coosie fills your plate,
You mention casual how your rope ain't pointin' true and straight.
Ask him if ther's anything a fella might could try.
He'll likely cuss you for a kid, but let his talk go by."

Well, the kid stood back and squared his hat and did it like I said.
I wached from underneath my hat to see what Coosie did.
He eyed the kid a good long while, but when he didn't see no joke,
"Son, I'm all used up," he growled.
"But I might could check that rope."

"Drift by after chuck tonight, and don't forget your line.
If you really got the try,
I might could spare the time.
But I'll not abide no children's games or no silly foolishness.
You want to learn, then learn you will, but I'll expect your best."

I figured that rope might do the trick, posed in the form a of a question.
It gentled coosie and shook out his kinks and diluted the mad he was nursin'.
He was still testy, but the frost disappeared out from around his old eyes.
It looked like the camp and even our chuck would pro'bly most likely survive.

So by the time Old Coosie filled my plate we's all drawin' extra fare.
He 'uz still cussin' and whangin' pans, but the kid smoothed out his hair.
The kid and me, we saddled up.
He fell in 'longside me,
And as we rode off from the camp
I told him one more thing.

"Remember, Kid, it's no small thing to show a man respect.
It's hard to earn and quick to lose, and you've done seen its effect.
Be prayin' Kid that when you're old and you're nearly out of hope,
Some kid will come and ask you to help him with his rope.

"Let's ride."
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Hey 4beatgirl,
Just realized you mentioned pony club. The great thing about being a pony club mom is that you can leave your kids and ponies and let the teams take care of each other. It certainly eliminates the obnoxious horse show moms who make their kids' lives miserable by being in the stable area and giving orders. Let me sit indoors and keep score!
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1 year ago
For Starhorse and anyone else who wonders...

HAT ETIQUETTE

There are no rules of decorum and conduct to which genuine cowboys attest.

Call them mores, traditions or manners, they're part of the code of the West.

But cowpokes have got this delimia, that confuses these sage diplomats.

It involves the whens and when-not-tos, concerning the wearing of hats.

The old rule concerning head-covers says "Hat up when you work, or you ride.Tip 'em to women. But take John B. off when in bed, or when you're inside."

But whaddya do in a gin mill, bean shop or dances in town?

Where Resistol rustlers 'll felch it or some low-life 'll puke in it's crown.

'N there ain't no such thing as a hat rack anyplace I bee of late.

So we all compromise with a tip back, baring, pallid foreheads and bald pate.

WHUT we needs is a new resolution to settle this conflict we got.

So I come up with this here solution, a result of considerable thought:

"I move that we do like good Hewbrews, wear hats from our birth 'til we die.

And never remove them sombreros...

All those in favor say, 'Aye,'"

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1 year ago
AIN'T NO LIFE AFTER RODEO

There ain't no life after rodeo.
Sulled-up old cowboys will tell you so.

So when you feel your spur-lick weaken,
And your bareback riggin' goes to leakin',

Bury your gripper elbow-deep,
To hell with looking before you leap!

Fight for those holts, sight down that mane,
Spit in the face of age and pain,

Give that hammerhead a hardware bath,
Dazzle the judges with '90 math,

Spur the rivets off your Wranglers,
A cappella rowels don't need "danglers,"

Rake like a maniac, tick for tick,
Tip your Resistol, flick the crowds Bic,

Fast-feet-fast-feet, gas-it-and-mash,
Toes turned out with each jab and slash,

Insanity, love, plus aggression,
Call it passion, call it obsession,

Adrenalined fury, 200 proof,
Like guzzling moonshine up on the roof,

Running on Bute, LeDoux songs and caffeine,
You rollicking,rosined-up spurring machine,

Too lazy to work, too scared to steal,
Slaving for wages bushwhacks your zeal,

So change that front-end for those 8,
You ain't no rodeo reprobate!

Grit each stroke out with every tooth,
Swimming the cowBOY fountain of youth,

Love that sunfish and love that high-dive,
BELIEVE you will ride till you're 95.
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Another horse poem that was sent to me...


The Warmth Of A Horse

When your day seems out of balance
and so many things go wrong ...
When people fight around you
and the clock drags on so long ...
When some folks act like children
and fill you with remorse ...
Go out into your pasture and wrap
your arms around your horse.

His gentle breath enfolds you as he
watches with those eyes ...
He may not have a PhD but he
is,oh so wise!
His head rests on your shoulder
you hug him good and tight ...
He puts your world in balance
and makes it seem all right.

Your tears will soon stop flowing,
the tension will be eased ...
The nonsense has been lifted.
You are quiet and at peace.
So when you need some balance
from the stresses in your day ...
The therapy you really need
Is out there eating h

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I still cry when I read this poem ...

The Game Horse

He was tied up to the trailer out behind the stands,
a blaze-face sorrel gelding, roughly 15 hands,
High withers, slightly ewe-necked, back a little swayed,
white hairs on his muzzle, eyes sunk in with age.
An old warrior with his best years long since gone away,
left here baby-sitting at a small-town horse play-day.

Watched over by her parents, a young girl kissed the horse;
they coached her on the fine points and wished her luck, of course.
He hardly seemed to notice when the small girl took his lead;
he followed without balking but not with any speed.
She climbed on and walked him round some, he went without a fuss;
his head was down, the reins were slack, his feet dragged in the dust.

When they called her name his ears pricked up, she sat up in her seat;
trotting to the gate there was new lightness in his feet.
When they got into the alley he flared his nostrils wide,
picked up the bit and arched his neck, she latched on for the ride.
She let him go and as they went the years melted away,
and he was once again the barrel horse he'd been in younger days.

With eyes on fire and muscles bunched, raw power in his stride,
blazing speed and energy wrapped in horse's hide.
He had chased the cans from old Cheyenne to the Calgary Stampede,
from Amarillo to Salinas, he had lived the game horse creed:
'Run to live, live to run,' it was printed in his genes,
from nose to tail his big heart pumped blue blood through his veins.

Coming through the pattern they touched the last can some;
it was still up on its edge when they were halfway home.
When she asked him for a little, he gave her all he had;
the barrel stood, the run was good, and the time was not too bad.
When she pulls the saddle he's an old horse once again,
but while he's running barrels, he's all he's ever been.

So here's to that old gamer -- may our golden years like his
be filled with golden moments and glorious memories,
Of races run and races won, of places that we've been,
of friends we've made along the way and good things we have seen,
And someone who will need us for what we still can do--
may our needs be small, our wants be less, and our troubles be but few.

by Tony Schwader
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I found this awhile ago. Its not one of mine but I really liked it.

Secrets

I tell my secrets to my Paint,
I know for sure, a judge he ain't.

I tell him things I did for fun,
I tell him things I wished I'd done.

He looks at me with knowing eye,
As I tell things that made me cry.

'Bout people who have hurt me so,
And people who I'm proud to know.

He listens to each word I say,
And keeps on munchin' on his hay.

He hears of all the things I've done,
And promises to tell no one.

I confess to him when I must,
I know he'll always keep my trust.

It's all in there, between his ears,
My hopes, my dreams, my joys, my fears.

If you can find a friend so true,
Be sure to keep him close to you.
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I live 25 miles north of CDA. we have a population of around 1000 ppl. I know most of the town.
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Quoting author:
I loved this. Thanks for posting it.
"Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet." :-)

Amen to this. It is a tough standard for a two legged human to be judged against...

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Quoting author:
Hi Starhorse,
The horse in my picture is a Paso Fino. He's my perfect gentleman. I also have a Black Walker mare who's my all business horse. I am truly blessed to have both of them.
I also want to add that anyone who has pain in there joints needs to try a good gaited horse before you quit riding. You may find that you have only begun to ride

I also wanted to say hi to Almostannie. I was a Pony Club Mom back in the 80's and 90's. I have some really good memories of Fair Hill. Pony Club truly is a rewarding organization

Hi Fourbeat. I have known a few gaited horses in my time. In fact, am working with some even now. Flat shod (natural shod) walkers and Pasos. They can be very smooth...

I agree with what you say about the USPC (Pony Club) It is one of the few organizations that teach the basics, and tests the knowledge, to young riders before they can go to the next level. I was so happy when Susan Harris re wrote the Pony Club Manuals from the British editions to the American standards...

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1 year ago
Quoting author:
I loved this. Thanks for posting it.
"Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet." :-)

Thank you Ma'am, glad you enjoyed it.

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1 year ago
Quoting author:
Hope you dont mind thought I would add another poem I thought you all would enjoy.......

Life's Gift

It starts deep within.
A feeling, Its demands are not to be denied.

You want to run, to scream, to rid what's destroying your mind.

You turn in the end.
To the one that answers the call within.

Soft and warm to the touch,
A fire burns within.

Gently she comes playfully, always ready.

Her muzzle feels like satin, gentle are her eyes.

The escape she'll provide yet one more time.

Listening to her breath as it drifts on the wind. Relax,follow her movement, the lead she'll take again.

Her head you give her as you feel power shift, leaving this world behind to drift.

Sometimes a child who wants to frolic and play. Other times tough and demanding wanting her way.

It doesn't matter she'll help leave the noise behind. Allowing room for natures peace to find.

A pause of times tick, a chance to co-exist.
Upon a mountain all your own. Creations beauty becomes known.

Nature's music fills your mind, As you look at the beauty that surrounds.
Gods peace you finally found.

In that instance you give thanks.
For the gift you love the most. A gift of a different kind.

Soft and warm to the touch, with a fire that burns within.

Not al all, that' why I put my favorite poem up and will most likely have more. I think everyone should share one thanks.

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1 year ago
Quoting author:
I assume your talking about a photo. Well truth is I live in a small comunity. I work in a area were I know about 500 people in a 150 mile stretch. I do not want everyone comming to my work and asking for a date. And believe me it would happen that way. I could just imagine checking in one person and the 2 and 3 person asking hay do you want to hook up how about next weekend. and the 4th person saying I didn't know she was looking when is she free next..........

Yes cowboy lingo for photo. I remember when Coeur d'Alene had a four way stop sign up by Butterys. I suppoes people are the same all over, I wouldn't let that stop me there is always NO! and You should be so Lucky! Or I prefer someone with horse savy...

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Hi Starhorse,
The horse in my picture is a Paso Fino. He's my perfect gentleman. I also have a Black Walker mare who's my all business horse. I am truly blessed to have both of them.
I also want to add that anyone who has pain in there joints needs to try a good gaited horse before you quit riding. You may find that you have only begun to ride

I also wanted to say hi to Almostannie. I was a Pony Club Mom back in the 80's and 90's. I have some really good memories of Fair Hill. Pony Club truly is a rewarding organization
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Quoting author:
Thank you for posting that.

I'm new to this site, and I already feel at home.

Welcome to the funny farm, 4beatgirl. Does your username mean that you have gaited horses?

I am enjoying these horse poems and thoughts..thanks everyone!

Great blog Mr. Woodroe.

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I assume your talking about a photo. Well truth is I live in a small comunity. I work in a area were I know about 500 people in a 150 mile stretch. I do not want everyone comming to my work and asking for a date. And believe me it would happen that way. I could just imagine checking in one person and the 2 and 3 person asking hay do you want to hook up how about next weekend. and the 4th person saying I didn't know she was looking when is she free next..........
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I loved this. Thanks for posting it.
"Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet." :-)