My Buffy is old, by horse standards; he is 26, give or take a year. My boy didn't come with a pedigree, due to the mysterious circumstances of his acquisition. About 20 years ago my uncle, who was in his mid-50's at the time, made an offer of $750 to buy "Kahlua" from a couple embroiled in an acrimonious divorce. The story goes that there was begrudging acceptance, but registration papers would not be included. My uncle proceeded to board this young buckskin gelding at the most fashionable stable in the area, Briarcliff in Soquel, CA, where he hoped to connect with the lovely young women who flocked to the barn. The horse was renamed "Buffalo Boy", and of course he required a full compliment of tack; bridle with silver conchos and rawhide braid, saddle, blanket, grooming equipment, etc. My uncle bought the best. I still use the bridle; the blanket was retired this year. After all this preparation, my uncle rode the horse once. HA! "Buffy" is a master of ascertaining the experience of a rider, and taking every advantage of the unprepared. That was my uncle's one and only ride. Soon, he began enticing me to take the horse. Me? Own a horse?? I nibbled at the bait and began to research requirements for horse ownership. O.M.G. The list is long and would scare off all but the most daft-40-year-old-looking-for-a-hobby. After several calls from my uncle, I decided to go meet the horse. The rest is history. LOVE at first sight. But, oh, I was over matched and too green to realise it. We have some stories, this horse and I. 19 years later he is still what gets be out of bed and to the barn everyday.
Thought you might enjoy seeing the view from my yard on a cold February day. There is actually snow on the ground, but it melted overnight from the trees.
No comments:
Post a Comment