Is that a word? Re-tellable = the ability to tell a story, over, and over, and over. *giggle* Anyways... This one sounds like a Mouthy Monday for Mugwump Chronicles. I'll let ya'll read it and let me know what you think. It's not a recent event, but one from a while back.
I'd had one of those days at work. You know, one where you touch it, and it breaks? One where the verbal disagreements seem neverending, and there is no right answer? I walked in the front door, to two happy dogs, who after potty breaks, were entirely satisfied to go back in their crates. Knowing daylight was running short, I ran back outside.
Work clothes, work shoes with heavy traction mud holder soles, I looked at my horses. Romeo nickered at me, so I grabbed a thin English pad, fangled my knotted halter and lead rope into a bridle, and opened the gate. Romeo slid into the halter, and tried desperately to grab a mouthful of hay while I flipped the feed bucket upside down. I climbed aboard via the bucket, and squeezed him out of hay munching.
We walked around the yard, Ransom bucking & farting in his pasture. Ransom was entirely ticked. It should've been his day to play with me, and he was making his irritation clear. Romeo sighed at him, ears forward, almost saying "Neener, neener, neener, man! She picked me!" After a little walk, a little trot, and a few solid "Whoa"s, we were ready. I muttered to myself, "Ever get the feeling you have to do this?" Romeo already knew what we were doing.
And down the dirt road we went. He picked a lane on the side of the road, and ambled along. Our ears heard sounds in the trees, but neither of us cared. With a little leg pressure, he swept up to a jog, and I think I saw him smile at the truck that passed us heading in the opposite direction. We thumped through a few soft muddy spots, and he quickly realized that my plan to stay on the road was better.
The closer we got to the dirt road end, I saw across the paved road, in the cow pasture, three cows, one donkey, and a stud horse. A beautiful buckskin with a neck halter show horses dream of. He's a tank, and I've never heard a sound from him. I wondered what Romeo's reaction would be, as these two have never crossed eyes. The stud came into Romeo's view, and Romeo stopped, ears up. They watched each other for nearly a moment, when Romeo dropped his head, and sighed. "Hi Dude! We're just fetchin' the mail. That's my job these days."
I think Romeo continued to say, "Ya know, it's progress. For almost three months after I came here, all my lady rider would do, was ride me in a saddle, holdin' on for dear life, and every leg muscle in her was tense. I could feel it - she was scared snotless. And I never knew why - I wasn't going anywheres. I just did my job. Then, she got braver. She'd start jogging me in the yard, still in that saddle. Finally, after I learned a lope, she gave me the reins, and we flew! What a rush! After about a year, she let the reins out, took off that stupid saddle, and we started walking again, with a pad between us. Today, for the first time, she didn't stick that metal junk in my mouth, she trusted me."
With Romeo watching the buckskin intensely, I squeezed him over against the row of mailboxes. I told him, "Whoa" with a solid deep voice, and leaned over to grab the mail. A busy pile today, so I stuffed it all in the space between my back & jeans. I turned him back, and we headed for home.
Back on the dirt road, I got a little curious what was in the mail pile. Grabbing the stack of envelopes, a little card fell to the ground. "Oh crap!", I muttered. I had to dismount to grab it, and I sure hope it was important enough. Looking at the card, I realized it was junk mail, and I looked back at Romeo. I tried to hop on, hop, hop, hop, jump! No such luck. I moved him to a lower ditch spot, and tried again. Hop, hop, hop, hop, JUMP! I grabbed his far side belly, and pulled myself up. Just as I got the pad back where it goes, under me, Romeo turned his whole head and neck around, and stared at me with one eye and one ear. "You done foolin' around up there yet? Can we go home? I'm hungry." I laughed long & loud, and gave him the go-ahead to take us home, stuffing the mail back behind my back.
Nothing exciting happened that evening. I didn't have a spooked ride, we didn't lope the road home. Instead, we just enjoyed the trip. I'm no longer scared of a fall, or worried about a disaster ride. He's become my mail buddy, and we're both having fun now.