...And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse
is the famous Mr. Ed.
is the famous Mr. Ed.
Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed.
People yakkity yak a streak and waste your time of day
But Mister Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course
And this one'll talk 'til his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well listen to this.
I am Mister Ed."
Aaaaahhhh - Horses. Such beautiful, graceful animals. Such power and might. Horses are my wife's first true love (next to her kids of course, and I fall somewhere in there - I think right after the horses - and that's ok). And while my fiancially concervitive mind shuttered at the thought owning such majestic creatures might cost us, there are things that you just let your spouse "do". After all, Jen allows me the freedom to play music and ice hockey and golf. Besides, a relationship becomes smothering if all of your time is consumed with each other.
Not long after we were married, Jen started to get the "horse itch." Jen grew up on a farm, and had ridden, cared for, and competed with horses for most of her young life. And just before she was to leave home, the horse that she had cared for and grown up with was sold out from under her. So it was no supprise that Jen jumped at the change when the opportunity for horse ownership presented itself.
Bonnie was one of a pair of equines - Bonnie and (of course) Clyde. Bonnie is a head strong but very loving (much like her owner) quarter horse, which probably explains why the two of them get along so very well - at times. :P Jen has worked with Bonnie for quite a while, but over time the question was asked of me, "Would you be interested in riding at all?" To which I stated, "well, sure it would be fun I think - but we'd have to find a horse big enough to carry me."
WARNING: Men and Women do not speak the same language. I mean, it SOUNDS like english, but the meaning of words take on a completely different meaning depending on whether those words are spoken to a man or a woman.
For example, when a women says, "Do I look fat in this dress," she is not asking for an opinion on how the dress looks. It instead means you should say something nice about her appearnace. When a woman says, "We need to talk," it means, "you need to listen, but don't fix my problem." Therefore, when I said to Jen, "I think riding with you would be fun, but we'd need a large horse," she heard, "Sure hon - we need to get another horse, but make it big enough for me to ride."
Aaaahhhh - communication is wonderful, isn't it?
Rosie is a Percheron/Belgium cross mare. She is 5 years old, 16.4 hands tall and nearly one ton. You can see me walking with her in the picture above - keep in mind I"m 6'2", and if you'll notice Rosie's hoof is about the size of my head. Plenty of size and mass to hual my fat @$$ around, if I can get the confidence to stay on her back while she deals with me.
I've been on Rosie's back once - once... ("My mother hung me on a hook once - once...") It was a frightening event for me, and probably one for the horse as well. My wife was very understanding and did a good job of instructing me during my first 5 minutes of "horsing around". I plan on getting back on her time and again until I can go on some trail rides with my lovely wife.
Stay tuned - It's likely I have much more time to blog if the horse throws me and I bust my butt. ;)
She's more likely to bolt then buck, and remember she can't run or buck if her nose is touching her butt!
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