Yippee Kay Yay!


Yee! Haw! Wooo!

It is very strange now! Sometimes it feels like winter, sometimes it feels like summer, and all this happens in only a few days now!  It is exciting!

Like last week, I had to work three days in a row, and it was so hot I got all sweaty under my saddle, and even the hair under my ears got sweaty from the bridle! That has not happened in a long time! So that was kind of like it was summer.

And before, it was like winter, with a lot of snow on the ground.  The only thing about that snow is usually there is not mud under the snow, usually there is just hard slippery stuff that is not fun to run on.  So this was very strange snow!

And yesterday, it was like it was fall.  Not just any fall.  But that first day, when you know it is not summer any more, and maybe it has been raining for a long time (like it did last week) and then one morning you wake up and there is a strange new breeze that tickles the hair in your ears and lifts your mane up and makes you think it would be a good idea to try to kick the sky.  It was like that day.  There was a lot of wind, which I sometimes like because it makes my mane and tail feel good, and I like to kick the sky.  It makes me remember being a colt and wanting to race the sun and the clouds.  On the other hoof, it blows my hay around and then I have to chase it, and sometimes it blows the hay out of the paddock where I can’t eat it.  And I hate it when good hay goes to waste.  So I like it, but I don’t like it.

Yesterday, it was doing that, and there was the sun, and there was the blue sky, and there was the wind lifting my mane up and blowing my hay around a little.

And, of course, there was Clay.  He’s still in the paddock with me.  I think he finally understands that I am the Boss of this paddock and everything in it, and that means him.  He knows that I am the Boss of all the hay in the paddock, and I am the Boss of the water trough, and I am the Boss of the gate, and I am the Boss of the nice muddy spot.  He has finally learned a few manners.  But he is still not much more than a colt, and he acts like a colt and he is very pesty like a colt.  He won’t give it up with that stupid fake carrot, for example.  He still picks that thing up and says “HUUUEEY! Come get the carrot!” like he is an idiot, even though I do not ever take his fake carrot and I have told him 100 times every hour to leave me alone with that stupid thing.  But he is young and he is still a dummy.  I am thinking to myself that I was not that stupid and pesty when I was a young punk.  I respected the older horses and did not make them try to play stupid games.  Then again I was a professional at that age, and I was going to shows and working very hard for the rider I had back then.

Clay does not work as hard as I had to work.  He is not lazy, but he does not have to work hard.  This means that he can spend a lot of energy being a pest to me in the paddock.  Like a few days ago, when I told him “Stop pestering me with that stupid fake carrot! GO AWAY!” and I turned my butt on him to show him that I did not respect him.  He did not like me turning my butt on him, and he said “Don’t put your butt at me!” and he kicked me.  Well, I remembered when he kicked the hair off my shoulder, and I did not want him to do that again, so I turned around really fast, but not fast enough.  He kicked some more hair off my side and scratched me with his hoof.  I am not happy that he did that, because it stings, but it is disrespectful, and I want him to learn enough manners to take his fake carrot somewhere else and not all the time be bugging me to come play with him.  My rider wasn’t happy about it either, and insisted on putting some more of her smelly stuff on it.  I thought I had seen the last of that stuff because the cut is finally better from where that dumb horse hit me in the face with his carrot, but I guess not.

I like my rider, but I wish she would not fuss so much over these things.  I am a horse.  So what if Clay kicked the hair off my skin?  It will grow back!

Anyway, yesterday it was one of those days, and I ate my hay, and then I ate some of Clay’s hay too, just to remind him I was still his Boss, and then my rider showed up.  She had my special new halter.  I like my new halter.  It is green, which is a proper Horse Color, and it is fancy and braided.  And every time my rider puts it on me she stands a little and looks and says “Huey, you are the most beautiful horse, ever!” And I am.  I know my rider would not lie.

What I like best about my new halter is the lead rope.  It is very long, and it has an end on it that makes a lot of noise.  And my rider uses it like crazy!  Clay, because he is a pesty colt, always tries to horn in on things when I am getting my harness on.  I have told him 1,000 times that he is not allowed to approach my rider, and when he does, I let him know that this is a good way to get kicked or get a bite, but it is different when my rider is right there.  She is not as big as I am, and she does not have hoofs or big teeth, and I do not think she can play like horses do.  She has also told me that I must be careful when she is right next to me because I am much bigger than she is and I can hurt her without wanting to.  So then that dummy Clay squeezes in where he knows he is not supposed to be, and what am I supposed to do?

I was thinking about that a few days ago, he was up to his stupid old tricks, and I did not want to hurt my rider, but I did not want Clay to come over and mess with my rider either.  And she had just put my halter on, so I couldn’t just go running around and bite Clay to remind him.  What do you think happened then?  My rider took the end of my lead rope that was stuck on my halter on the other end, and she sent it out through the air, and the loud end of that rope landed right on Clay’s nose, and it went “WHAP!” and even though it did not hurt, Clay is a baby, and he made a big squeaking noise and jumped straight into the air, and then he ran backwards.  It was so funny!  I laughed at him, and I said “You stupid horse! I told you not to mess with my rider! Now she scared you with my rope and made you run backward!  I am the Boss of you, and my rider is the Boss of you too! Ha ha ha!” and then me and my rider left while Clay was still hiding in the corner like the little chicken that he is.

So I like the rope, too.  My rider used it again on Clay, not on his nose, because while I have to teach him every day to mind his manners with me, I guess he only needed the rope on the nose to learn that once. He is not as stupid as he seems.

Well, back to yesterday.  It was all fresh and exciting, and my hay was done, and I was thinking about what else to do, and here comes my rider with the halter.  She walked in and said “Huey!” and I said “I am not a dog today.” and stood there.  So she came up and said “Time to work.”  Now, usually, because I am a Good Horse, I put my nose right down for the halter and go right into it because I am Good and I like to work.  Also, sometimes, it means getting a massage, and everyone knows how much I like that.

But the wind blew my Good Horse right away!  And it left only my Bad Horse! And my Bad Horse said “I do not think I will work right now” and it made me turn my head away from the halter.

And the rider said “Huey! That is not being a Good Horse! Go in the halter please!”

And I said “That is right, it is not being a Good Horse, because right now I am only a Bad Horse.  And Bad Horses do not go in the halter, and they do put their butts to their riders” and I moved off so that I could put my butt to the rider.

Oh, my gosh.  What do you think happened then?  The Bad Horse was still talking in my head and telling me not to go to the rider, and the Bad Horse made my butt face the rider.  It’s a good thing I was wearing my nice jacket, because the next thing I knew the rider said “Well, if it’s going to be that way, Huey!” and she made that rope sing and it sang right over to my butt and it went “WHAP!” right on my butt!

It scared me right out of my hoofs, I tell you!  I shot right away from the rider! And she said “You go, Huey! You go in the halter, or you go away from me!” and she sent the rope singing toward my butt again!

Well, there was only one thing I could do, and I will be honest:  I wanted to do it.  Even the Good Horse part of me wanted to do it!  I ran.  I ran to the fence and then I ran along the fence.

And, of course, that dummy Clay thought it was a new game, and he got right into it.  So I’m running along, and my rider is making the rope into a snake and making me run, and here comes Clay, zooming along and shouting “I’M RACING YOU HUEY! AND I’M GOING TO WIN!”

Well, I couldn’t let him win, because then he would be insufferable.  So I ran harder.  And my rider was in the middle with the snaky rope and she went “PSSST!” and “GET ALONG THERE!” and made the rope crack, and we were racing like crazy.  And I was going to win!

And I was winning, too, until I realized that dummy Clay had crowded me into a corner where I couldn’t go anywhere, and he got himself lost in the corner too like the idiot that he is.  I was afraid the rider was going to send the snake rope in and frighten us, but instead, she stepped back.  I thought I was not going to run any more, but the Bad Horse still would not let me go in the halter, and so when I got facing out of the corner, she made the rope crack again and I had to take off running.

Clay, that idiot, came too, and this time he was shooting his heels into the air like he was some kind of rodeo horse.  I said “Clay, you dummy! You are not a bronco!  I will show you how to run properly!” and I did.  I cantered, and then I galloped. Not far, because our paddock is not that big, but far enough for Clay to see how to do it.  Then I realized that Glee was in the next paddock, and he got all confused and thought he  was supposed to be running too, and he put his heels in the air, and he laughed like a maniac.  And then all three of us were racing around like a bunch of two year olds, and the rider was still in the middle whirling her rope and saying “GET ON THERE!” and would not let us stop.

Then, thanks to that dummy Clay, we got stuck in the corner again, over by the shed.  He wanted to kick the water bucket, but I said “You dummy.  If you do that we won’t have any water to drink after all this running.  Leave it alone you fool.” and he said “Oh, yeah.” and ran off again. I stood there, because Bad Horse had just about all the running around it wanted, and Good Horse was thinking that the rider was wearing the clothes and boots that she only wears if she wants to ride me, and maybe it would be a good idea to stop running in case it was time to work.  So the rider watched me and made the rope not be a snake anymore, and she turned a little and held out her hand, and then I knew everything was OK and it would be a good idea to go in the halter, and I did.

Clay, of course, because he is young and has enough energy for five horses, came running up.  Glee in the other paddock had made all kinds of dust and it got in his nose and was making him sneeze, so what do you think he did?  Made some more dust by rolling around.  Go figure.  So then he was coughing like he was about to die, and here comes Clay shouting that it can’t be time for the game to be over, that he was having so much fun playing Race Around The Paddock As Fast As You Can! and that it was not fair that I was going to go away.

The rider stood there for a minute listening to all this and then said “OK, Clay.” and she made the end of my rope fly out to hit him on the shoulder, and he jumped up in the air and raced away as fast as his legs would take him.

Gosh, he’s an idiot. I was right, too, because it turned out that it was time to go work.  And because the Bad Horse got all run out, I was able to just be the Good Horse, and everyone said how Good I was, even Laura.  And the rider said I was beautiful, and I got a massage.  Which just goes to show, it is worth it to be the Good Horse.

I like being the Good Horse. It is easier, for one thing.


About Lori Holder-Webb

I'm a Southern Woman by birth and a Texan Woman by upbringing...and yet I find myself living in New England and married to a New York City boy. Up here we use the same currency as we do at home, and I don't need to travel with a passport, but the commonalities pretty much end there. The language is different, the jokes are different, the people are different, and the weather and terrain sure are different too. I moved away from Texas in 2002, and ever since then, I've been the stranger in the strange land... I've had some questions about the name of the blog - if you were not alive, or living abroad or under a rock, or in grad school during the late 1980s, Oldsmobile attempted to shuck its stodgy image with a series of commercials intended to bring brand appeal to the younger generation: this car, they said, is not your father's Oldsmobile. If you have a morbid curiosity, hit YouTube for William Shatner Oldsmobile...it will take you right there.

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