Day 47

Day 47

 

“Lady-Belle” Our first horse

 

Beth fell in love with horses while watching the old “Fury” T.V. program; anytime we took a family ride in the car, “Peewee” and “Joey” along with the famous “Fury”-horse, went along.

Our front porch had a railing around it; Beth, age four, tied a yellow rope to one of the posts, mounted the wide railing and rode the range with her imaginary friends and her “Fury”. She insisted on having a horse of her own and, finally, Dad gave in and we started looking.

We would locate an animal for sale and go to visit the stable where it lived. Little Beth was absolutely fearless as we “inspected” the potential purchase; Nanny and I cowered as far away from the large animal breathing “fire” from its nose and trying every trick in the book to get at us to inflict all manner of personal harm on our bodies.

(Wow! What an imagination! Ought to be a writer!---believe me…I’m trying.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, as they tend to say in the cowboy flicks, our little girl would courageously walked right up to the huge animal, pet it and talk to the horse like an old friend.

We finally got word of a Welsh Pony, a breed of horse, in a little wide spot in the road name of Walsh. We made arrangements to visit the critter; Beth loved old Lady-Belle, immediately.

My personal lineage does not, to my knowledge or understanding, tether to some itinerant nomad with a string of camels and a tent fit for any improvised Arab desert bazar, but, I got the “horse trader” bug, almost immediately. Well! Old “savvy”  cowboy “Tex” Carl quickly negotiated a final sale with the lady-owner for the Welsh Pony and a saddle and bridle thrown in.! Yes! Sir! Score one for the “city” boy.

All that horse flesh and a passel of decent tack for $125.00! Yippee! Yi! Ae! Ride ’em cowboy! Look out world, here come “Trader Carl”!

So, we all learned to ride on that old equine; she was Beth’s friend, playmate and transportation. She lived to be thirty-two years old. The day Old Lady passed, she kept wandering into the garage and actually trying to get into the living quarters of our house. I let her graze in the front yard as she enjoyed being spoiled. That was one sad day.

Lady-Belle opened out sights to a vista of horses which has carried on through Becky and our grandchildren. We sure celebrated some exciting adventures, horse shows, 4-H festivities, trail rides, jumping fences, tag in the creek, foals, mares, geldings and more. We lived on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River valley, the stream and on into Missouri for thirty miles, or so.

Out our back gate led to the levy; on full moon nights, we hosted neighborhood trail rides down the bluff and onto the levy; one fine full-moon night we boasted sixty-three horses!

There may very well be better hobbies, but, for “family”, horses would be exceptionally hard to beat. They truly are: The gift that keeps on giving! Respect and reverence abound. Amen!

 

Ah! Horses! Cookie Jar Sweet Memories!