A homegrown heart is one that longs to sleep with the windows open. One that longs to smell the fresh cut fields, Ride in the afternoon - bareback, and barfoot. A homegrown heart likes to turn the music up, grow something, talk to God and wear boots, because they are better. These hearts go fishing, play with dogs and play with horses. Homegrown hearts give it their all, everytime. They are true to themselves, and true to those around them. They have deep roots. But more important, a homegrown heart LOVES WITH ALL ITS STRENGTH.








Monday, June 13, 2011

Just because you are big and mean...

... Doesn't mean Im AFRAID OF YOU!

And it all started on Friday.  There we were in the arena... and we were riding pretty good.  My big boy wasn't listening to the outside aids, in fact he was flat out ignoring them.  So Im all "Sure, Ill just switch the whip and hold it on the outside shoulder..." So I did, and I flicked his shoulder to remind him he couldn't run through the circle...

and he got mad.

and madder.

and even more mad.

I was letting him have his face to sort of start over, and then I gathered the reigns up again and asked for collegtion and shoulder, and WHAM!

He rears up.  I sat the first two, no problem, but the third was more of a rear / twist thing, so in my mind Im thinking "Holy crap Im going down, make sure you fall on the good leg, not the bad leg,,, oh God not the bad leg!  So I release the face, so we won't flip, and shift my weight so I slide off to the side (the good leg side) and Biff right onto my hip. 

He just stood there like a triumphant idiot so I got up, grabbed my whip, got back in the saddle and schooled him again.  He must have known he did something naughty, because after I got back on, he was a lamb. 

Short lived, let me tell you.

This morning I went out to feed, and it had started to rain, so I got out his little rain sheet.  (Mr. Sensitive doesn't like to be cold).  He put his head through the hole, and I got all but one buckle done, and he came at me.  I mean, nostrils flaring, ears twitching, head swingin, rearing up and strikin the air at me.  I took a step back to keep my face in one piece, and then I let him have it.  I was jumpin up and down, screaming and charged him fists flying...  he came back down on all fours and looked calm, so I walked up to him and reached for the buckle, and he came around and bit my finger!

Slap.  Square in the face.

I was done messing around.  I got a big whip.  A really big whip.  and no sooner had I entered the paddock with that whip, he changed his tune.  Back to being a lamb.  I wonder how short lived this time will be??

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