Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Rammmbllleeee

Sara. I realize you are jealous of the fact that I have been presented with the oppurtunity to aquire the title "Bronc Stomper". Don't be.

The grass is always greener on the other side, my friend, always greener on the other side...

You have a job where you can work under the air conditioner; or, considering the approaching months and weather accompanying them, heater. There are no serious hazards; sure, you cut yourself with a blade while opening a box.

But... you're a clutz. (Sorry-but you're my friend, so I'm allowed to say that.)

You don't have to worry about your shirt-tail flapping wrong sending a 2 year old sorrel into a fit.

You needn't worry about not reaching up too far with your stirrups to tap the colt in the "knuckles" (they're elbows Daddy, elbows! Say it with me- EL. BOWS.) and thus kicking him in the belly resulting is a chastising from your bronc stomping coach.

There are no hazards of your mount suddenly deciding, why no, he does NOT like loping and he thinks he will just stop. Because he wants to. And he's a frickin colt.

It's annoying. It's stinkin annoying.

Don't ask what encouraged this rant to spill from my fingers onto the keyboard and thus to the computer screen. Because it is rather difficult to explain, and rather... Well, ridiculous. So. You will only sit in awe of my unexpected rampage and ask no questions. Understood? Yes. Good.

Moving on.

Yesterday I got up to help Daddy and CJ get in about 20 head of yearling Charlois (I can never spell that word) steers. That was rather easy, a very nice ride indeed; there was that Fallish-Winterish smell in the air, it was cool and ah just very pleasant. We got to the house and.... The pleasant-ness ended. In that very pasture we keep our loose horses that are crippled or we don't use or something. For example there is a grey that is not broke, a horse that requires alot of riding but Daddy doesn't have time for, a horse that has something wrong with his neck it seemed and is now crippled, etc. And we just got two sorrels up; a 4 year old and a 3 year old.

The 4 year old is a pot-bellied little creature by the name of Alfred. When he was a weanling and we broke him, he was so ugly. It as pitiful. Scrawny and ugh. So we decided he needed a dorky name. What is more dorky than Alfred? (Sorry for any of ya'll named Alfred out there, I mean for a horse, and... Well we couldn't name him something regal like Charlemagne.) So Alfred it was. But at 2 years old he became lame; suspensary I think. We get alot of those. Most heal, some don't. His did and this spring Daddy put some rides on him. Then didn't have time for him again I think. So out he went. But now here he is, 4 years old, pot bellied, filled out alot, but still not the purtiest horse in the ring.

Then there is a 3 year old we call Kansas, because Clint started him and Clint is... Well he's from Kansas. Clint started him I guess like early this spring. Or late this winter. However you want to say it. Anyway. He started him and didn't end up riding him much at all. Maybe put 15 rides or so on him. There are pictures on MySpace of this horse bucking. Not crow hopping, mind you, bucking. Needless to say, I was rather glad that Alfred was my project, and Kansas CJ's. But this horse was really skittish and weird. Clint can dang sure ride, about as well as anybody I have ever seen. But I'm not sure if he took this horse too fast or what. He ended up not riding him hardly at all after those first few rides. I wonder what happened.

Anyway. So we saddled up the two beasties and warmed them up in the round pen and then CJ was to work this Kansas.

It was awful; CJ would just put his toe in the stirrup and not even get up on the side, and this horse would booger and go to bucking. But in an hour, Daddy helped him and he was lined out real nice. It was a BIG change. CJ was able to trot and lope him around both ways, without a mere hump. Then Daddy gets on Alfred for about 5 minutes (he's gentle and lazy) and decides they were gonna frickin ride all the way across the pasture we gathered this morning on two horses that hadn't been ridden in like 6 months, to get a rig.

Are. You. Frickin. Crazy. (?).

Apparantly so. But off they go. I watched them as far as I could, then they got on a rise and I could no longer see and my horse wasn't up. So in the house I go to do school.

They were gone a while.
Then longer.
It's not that far to the corner, is it?
Hmmm.

Finally, here they come. I go outside to see if Daddy wants me to unsaddle Alfred or something. CJ doesn't get out of the truck (he's on the phone), and Kansas is in a war bridle.

Ha. Uh. No. What happened?

Apparantly Kansas did buck CJ off the dirty sucker. I guess it was when they were almost to the rig; wouldn't it suck to make it all that way??

Daddy says there is something wrong with CJ's arm. Kaitlin (CJ's wife) is in Portales where she has a college class twice a week, so Daddy takes him into the ER.

Mama and I are sitting in the house hoping and praying it's not broke. Not only would that stink for CJ, he would be pretty much out. We figured he can ride with a broken arm, but if it's his right he couldn't shift the pickup. Or do just about anything during Fall Works which start next week.

Daddy comes back from town a couple hours later. CJ DID break his arm. And it's up high; like upper arm. Which means no he cannot ride. But it's his left arm, so yes he can shift the truck. Gosh dangit Kansas.

So yeah. Ya'll just pray that it heals well and that when Daddy gets on Kansas (he will I know dangit) he won't get hurt.

Alright. Well I must go eat breakfast now. And brood over what I must do the rest of the day. Probably gotta ride the dang colt.

-sigh-

Adios ya'll.

2 comments:

RanchGirl said...

Hmmmm.....I'm pretty sure that Sara isn't jealous of what sounds like an ultimate headache. I know I'm not. :)

LeAnna said...

Wow, out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks....(Luke 6:45)