"If you're trying to change minds and influence people it's probably not a good idea to say that virtually all elected Democrats are liars, but what the hell."
"I am hard at work, trying to get the comments to print in this box. Testing... Testing.... Testing"
"Close your eyes, deep breathe, and picture your quiet place...".Nature, noble animal, and precious child.I am there. Thank you, TRKOF.
Juice--We live on the Left Coast. So, lots of Left Coast comments before the morn. My dad rode a draft horse to school every day. Even the day, when, traveling under a branch over the road, his horse pricked his ears, dad looked up, and saw a cougar perched, coiled. His mount acted before he could, but couldn't stop the attack. The cat hit the back of his horse as he rode past the attack. Myself? Remember "The Man From Snowy River"? I've taken cliffs with my horse that I wouldn't have taken without him. (His name was Assad.)While he was brave in times of my own timidness, he was patient in times of my stupidity. Coming up a shale hill, with a rope on his halter, and one wrapped around his butt. Eighty feet. We had a beer after that. (Didn't have beer, but he got some oats.)When Rajah first posted this, I wanted to post, "Metaphor." No matter how large the job, the candidate with the greatest learning curve, intelligence, honesty and guidance can ride an horse of any size. And you know the poet Rajah can be..
Wonderful.Big hosses are civilized hosses.Here's my ol' heavy-hunter draft cross, Harley, twenty years ago.The little girl asked if she could train 'im to run in a draft-horse race at a local point-ro-point, so I let 'er. They won. (Well, after the leader fell on his face.)
Doug, you are full of wonders
I rode a horse. Once. I grew up in New York City, in Stuyvesant Town, in Manhattan, near Stu Tarlow. No horses there. My father, a PDNY captain, knew my sister Lucinda loved horses, so he took us to the Pelham Bay Riding Academy, off Gun Hill Road in the Bronx. I was about 15.A group of us kids were there, and each got a horse, all saddled and ready for us. I was told mine was a very mild horse. We were shown the right way to mount, and were soon walking down the horse trail.It being New York, there were real highways across our path. Our counselor, a kid a bit older than the rest of us, with lots more experience, pressed the button on the traffic light pole. Soon we got a green light to cross, as a huge line of cars waited for us in each direction.Just a little way across, my horse decided it didn't like something about the counselor's horse. As all the other horses crossed uneventfully, my horse started fighting with the counselor's horse. Back to back, each kicking toward the other.Neither horse was injured by the fight, nor the counselor, nor I. I was a bit shaken as to what happened, and whether it might happen again.The oddest thing was when the counselor, a teen older than me and with actual riding experience, said "Why didn't you do something?" I said "Do something, how did I know what to do? I never rode a horse before!"When we got back to the stable, I got off my horse. It was my first and last horse riding experience.
OregonGuy, What a story. How injured was the horse from the cougar? That be one bad azz cougar to jump a horse! Yes, I've seen The Man From Snowy River (need to cue in netfix) and that downward mountain ride was -impressive- to say the least. Thanks for sharing that story.
Skoonj, you did do something. You stayed in that saddle, no small feat for a kid on a bucking horse in a busy environment.
Rodger, This picture was a wonder and a fine break from all the boned jello you share with us. You have the best readers and commenters here and reading their entries,even when I have nothing to add, is enlightening. And I agree with you on DougM with that beautiful draft horse. Who'd a thunk?
I was afraid to jump off! The people in those cars got a hell of a show though.
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