A Rose of A Different ColorIt's bad enough that I got left home again, but to find out that Dangerous was in St. George visiting another Rose can make a girl a bit jealous. Dangerous has always been a sucker for a good looking red head, but I doubt I have anything to worry about. While we might share the same name and similar hair color, I can't picture St. George Rose playing tug with Dangerous or sitting on his lap.
Let's Play TugWhat I can't figure out is how Dangerous is going to keep us straight. At his age, he struggles remembering the names of family members and close friends. I can only imagine the confusion that will exist when we are out riding. When it's time for us to load up, I won't be sure which Rose he is calling. Will St. George Rose try climbing into my dog kennel while I jump into the horse trailer with Dottie and Little Guy? More confusing than loading to go will be the profane oaths that Dangerous usually directs at me when he is mounting up. In the past, he usually yelled something like, "Rose, I am going to get down and kick you in the guts if you don't shut up!" With another Rose around, I have the perfect excuse to continue barking and ignore his idle threats. I will just give him that sheep dog look expressing confusion about whether he is berating me or the other Rose.
St. George Rose and DangerousYou're probably wondering how Dangerous ended up with another Walking Horse. Well, you have to understand that he doesn't own the whole horse. I am not sure how you own half a horse, but knowing Dangerous, I know which half is his. He tells me that he owns the horse jointly with his buddy Bill, and they divided Rose diagonally. Splitting her diagonally gives them each a half that can't be ridden alone, but can stand by its self. At least that's what Bill told Dangerous when they split the horse, and he is an architect.
Bill and ThunderRose lives with Bill with seven other Walking Horses in St. George. Her current owners are friends of Bill's who have boarded Rose at his place for years. Since they don't get to ride much, they decided it was time to sell her. Well, Dangerous is almost as bad as Bill when it comes to parting with a good horse. Neither one of them needs another horse, but they couldn't let Rose go to another home, so they bought her together. Rose gets to stay in St. George, and Dangerous has a horse to ride when he visits.
A Walking Horse in Every PortDangerous tells me that St. George Rose has a sweet Walking Horse gate, and independent personality. According to Dangerous, riding her is like sitting in a rocking chair, and she doesn't need the company of others, so I don't have to worry about her replacing me anytime soon. Love to hear from you!
6 comments:
Nice Horse. Want to trade for a $5000 Mule with potential? Best from the Fremont
Would you like to own 50% of a 3 year old?
Rosie,
You've got the right idea. I don't think you're in any danger of losing your place in Doug's affections. He's a bit of a slow learner, you know. He's temporarily forgotten what it means to choose to ride a mare. They can be as sweet as a summer day, until they're not. Rose II will have her day and Ole Dangerous will suddenly remember past lessons learned. In any event, guess who has the last laugh? However, I can't say too much, I'm a sucker for a pretty mare too. They're such good trail horses when their mood's right.
On another subject, a bunch of us guys had planned a three day ride last weekend and I was going to document it for your blog. We had some severe weather to come through and had to cancel. No damage to any of us, but lives were lost a few counties north. It's a sad thing for all. I'm sure we'll try again later in the year and I'll give you a report then.
On a more pleasant note, please pass the following poem along to Fremont Bob. I don't have any other way to get in touch with him and would sure like for him to know how I feel about my new spurs. Thanks.
Ode to a Pair of Poulton Spurs
by Max
There’s something in their jingle and their rattle as you walk
Your head’s a little higher, there’s swagger in your talk
The weight of steel upon your boots, you’re steppin’ out with pride
You drop your heels to flash ‘em when you take ‘em for a ride
Some would say there’s vanity behind this little show
But Ol’ Bob’s spurs will spoil a man, in case you didn’t know
If Faust had been a good ole boy out lookin’ for a trade
And the Devil offered Poulton spurs, a deal he might’ve made
That’s not to say that cowboys are the devil’s easy mark
But fine spurs will tempt a man, like a lady tempts a heart
He’ll wear ‘em bold for all to see, he’ll let ‘em have their say
They’ll do all the talkin’, ‘cause that’s the cowboy way
He’ll never call attention to their sparkle or their shine
Or the hand tooled straps of leather that help ‘em look so fine
But the etching of the silver and the polish of the brass
Are the envy of the cowboys, if anyone should ask
They may talk about the weather or brag on how they shoot
But time-to-time their eyes drift back to browse that cowboy’s boot
Fancy bands and rowels fill the dreams now in their heads
Like sugar plums at Christmas, leave ‘em tossing in their beds
A cowboy fancies spurs all right, just like his horse and saddle
His pride and joy to say the least, for them he’d go to battle
Yes, Poulton spurs are treasures of the finest kind my friend
Worn with pride and passed on down when his time comes to an end.
Thanks, Bob.
Max,
Thanks much for the swell words. Made my day and then some....made the whole year by golly. Bob
Time to get off your dead butt and write something. Best from the Fremont
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