 | I have had many horses in my life over the years, but never one that I bought and paid for myself. Finally, in February 2005, I got out my checkbook and became the proud owner of an 8 year old palomino gelding. He is a registered quarter horse named "Light Up To Speed", which to me is way too much science fiction for any horse to be saddled with. So I have dubbed him "Blondie", as in the Clint Eastwood character from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly". |
| Blondie is my "meener", (as in "palo-meener") a very pale palomino gelding. He's now 9, but has has maintained his youthful spirit. He likes to play, and this boy can play hard! |  |
 | Right now, he's learning rollbacks, slide stops, and how to smile. He LOVES playing with the cows, and is at his best when there's a job to be done. |
2006 is Blondie's second year doing parades, and his attitude toward them has not improved much over the past year. Basically, Blondie TOLERATES parades, and he does this at a trot. But he has become a crowd favorite due to his prancing and antics. On his first outing, as soon as he looked down the street and saw all the people line up on the sidewalks, he immediately tried to do an about-face and go back to the trailers. He spent the first half of the parade doing this, and the second half stomping his feet and snorting. |
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But, mostly he's proven himself to be a willing partner, and he usually seems eager to please. He has a very long memory and learns very quickly. Basically, he is just an overall good boy, personality plus, and funny!
This is the one who started it all. The horse you'd pick if someone asked you which one is the best of them all.
Snuffy was "mine" from my birth until I reached the age of 7. Snuffy was a jack of all trades kind of horse. My dad acquired him as a colt, and he was named for the comic strip character "Snuffy Smith". Snuffy would do anything you asked. He could work calves, knew his way around mountains, could be hunted from. And then, us kids would get ahold of him and he'd do horse shows, parades, and trail rides. He was part morgan, part quarter horse, and had no papers. He got along with just about everybody, and "tolerated" my sister and I through part of our childhoods. What I mean to say is that, my dad could use him to work calves, and two seconds later I could get on him, and he would play the part of "babysitter", and walk or trot and go wherever our young minds wanted him to without protest, without trying to get back to the herd. I don't know if he enjoyed it or not, I hope he did. He was a sweet horse, and I have yet to see his equal.
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BabeBabe was a sheltand pony we got for the price of $50 when I was 7. She was a very typical shetland, in that she tested me to no end! Where Snuffy was sweet and kind, this one could be mean and calculating. She would try to roll when I was riding her...I would just step off. If I pulled back too hard on the reins, she would rear up...I would pretend I was Roy Rogers on Trigger. She would practically run someone over for an oreo cookie or potato chips. And she was this teensy little thing. And I loved her. It wasn't long before I outgrew her though, but she stayed with our family for a long time. |
| Rocket was only two years old when we got him, and I was 9. My dad "broke" him to ride, and it wasn't long before I was on his back. |  |
We became a team in 1978, she was 7 1/2, and I was 11. Ginger was short and stocky, part quarter horse. She knew her leads, and had very smooth gaits. This is the one that really turned me into a daredevil on horseback. She was pretty good in horse shows, and just unbeatable in the trail class. She could also turn and stop on a dime, but although she tried, her 14.2 height didn't suit her for gymkhanas. She did cattle pennings and trail rides, took some trips into the mountains, and would let me take her swimming. We went through the Burger King drivethrough, and over the freeway catwalk. A typical weekend would consist of 10-20 mile trailrides along busy streets, railroad tracks, across bridges, and freeway frontage roads. She was with me until we were both well into our twenties.
Jack is my dad's cow "pony" (he's only 16.2 hands tall!) who I managed to steal for a few parades...now he thinks he's a professional parade horse.
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Frank's mom is a girlfriend of mine, and Frank is a buckskin boy who needed lots of riding. I was fortunate enough to get the job for the last three summers.
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