Horses and Bicycles


5f450a2246d31eefebf0ad3aa2638937

Have you ever tried to catch an animal that does not want to be caught? If you raise animals, they always manage to escape by breaking through fences or because someone leaves a gate unlatched. When any animal escapes it must be caught. Imagine the chaos as cars slam on their brakes to avoid a 2,000lb steer, neighbouring cattle scatter as an upset, fugitive pig surges through their placid herd, a pregnant highly prized mare due to deliver, is hounded into a frenzy as our stallion threatens to break through into her enclosure. The possible comic- tragic scenarios are a countless. Picture kids running around in circles in knee-deep snow with a grain pail following a cavorting calf in the middle of a huge windswept field or a dozen squawking chickens flapping their wings, darting every which way deeking and dodging squealing kids However the hardest animal to capture is a horse because they are swift, smart and strong, emphasis on all three adjectives.

Chad was an older, pure bred, Arabian stallion that we bought as a safe horse for our kids to learn to ride. I admit, he was the perfect, docile pet horse. He would stand absolutely motionless as a toddler scrambled under his belly, a preteen braided his tail, a five-year old fed him a carrot and two kids sat on his bare back. Chad was unflappable. Anthony could even stand upright on him bareback. Yet this mild-mannered animal had a dual personality disorder. Once he escaped his personality flipped. Chad galloped like a highly prized , temperamental race horse. One little slip up and Chad would dodge ropes, people, cars and gallop full-out, head arched proudly tail poised and his main and tail streaming behind him. He was picture perfect, looking decades younger. Once transformed he was almost impossible to reign in.

One particular time was absolutely ridiculous. Chad galloped across the road to a neighbouring field surrounded by tall firs and ran in joyful abandonment. As we desperately tried to head our stallion off, he tossed his head, laughing at our pitiful attempts to capture him. Sometimes raised Chad stood on his hind legs, pivoted, changing directions in an instant. I sent three of the kids back home for their bicycles, thinking to match his speed, what a farce that was; dog barking, kids running and calling, mum shouting out strategies of attack, bicycles, swinging grain bucket all swirling around in maddening circles of confusion. Although trees screened our circus from the road, we managed to snag the attention of a young horse trainer.. He issued quick directions to all the kids and cornered our stallion then leaped out of his pick-up to lasso our equine fugitive.

Advertisements

42 thoughts on “Horses and Bicycles

  1. My Dad lives way up in the Scottish Islands past the Highlands. He has a small farm, mainly for the kids. He has a Horse, Sheep, Goat, Chickens and a small Shetland as well as a cow.

    He is a “Live of the land” man now.. Grows all his own food. Just thought I would add that 🙂

    And this was your article on that site you sent me to!! Noticed the picture..
    x

    Like

      1. very poignant- I would tighten it up a bit for BrooWaha, sometimes they cut out pics. OR You could almost make a non rhyme, free flowing poem which might be powerful but your choice
        ex.
        My Father, my best mate, my soul mate
        MY phone call when I need it,
        He is there when I am down,
        He is there when I am happy,
        He allows me to cry when I am sad

        Like

      2. ok. I follow…
        I take it I don’t have to do poems? no…
        Because I am not the best…
        What goes down the most in Broowaha? in terms of content?

        x

        Like

      3. it just can’t be just a blog type that says.. well I did this and then that, after I decided to…
        they likewriting that is a bit more formal, more of an article.
        It is great training because it pushes you to write more concisely, to polish your blog post, write a by-line and come up with an eye catching photo and title. The end result can be submitted ANYWHERE for publishing. Actually you are now considered a PUBLISHED COLUMNIST

        Like

      4. REALLY? ….Published Columnist? WOW…And I can only get better with practice..

        YOU ROCK BY THE WAY!!! I am reading a LOT of stuff on there to get a feel for “What they like” or “What goes down well” As I have a ton of blogs I can re-blog there..Is there a Limit to what you can post or just “Go for it” He published all 3 today…That was good..or allowed them anyway.. x

        Like

      5. Yeah it will do. I do Master Peace also. But that is JUST peace movement. I like to blog about all sorts, like when I was doing football, I got bored as I was doing the same things..
        So good to mix it up..

        x

        Like

      6. Amazed I am..

        Honest I can’t thank you enough..
        I love writing, is about all I can do these days.
        So to get recognised is a big thing for my Moral after losing what I was doing..

        x

        Like

      7. I am getting the hang of it slowly. Had a chat with Tony in the chat area and added him to Facebook..Love the place.
        Again.. lol
        Thank you x

        Like

  2. Funny!
    I had an Arabian once and he took off like that but I was on him and my saddle broke. I felt like I was in the circus! Few stiches and skinned from head to toe but what a ride!
    Grat post, thanks

    Like

  3. been there, done that. Once our pony that thought it was a stallion and our blind mare escaped together. The ‘stallion’ was very pleased with itself, the mare was frightened to bits, poor thing! The road had to be blocked while we caught them.

    Like

  4. I loved your story. It brought up lots of old memories of when we moved to the northwest, my then-husband got the bright idea to buy the horse with the property we bought, the owners were moving to Alaska and couldn’t take the horse. None of us knew anything about horses and my then-husband was often gone on business, so guess who had to take care of the horse? Yep, me. The horse’s name was Marco and he was mad that his long time master left him. Several times I got a call at 5 a.m. in the middle of winter that Marco had broken out and was in someone’s yard. I had these really fluffy red mittens Marco was terrified off. When I tried to reach for him, his eyes got huge and he freaked out. I finally realized it was the mittens!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s