Let Us Pray.. Let Us Rodeo

One of the finer points of being a Cowgirl Momma in East Texas is this is both an area strong in faith and an area that likes its rodeo. Around here I have noticed that people are not afraid to profess their faith by message or just in simple daily ways. They don’t corner you and cram it down your throat but at least a couple times a week I am told to have a blessed day by anyone from a lady at the feed store, to the cashier at Whataburger. It’s a very nice feeling to have a fellow Christian bless you and return that blessing. Try it sometime tell me you don’t get a little extra swing in your step. I am not a person who has it in them to be a devoted missionary. I’ll tell you anytime you want to hear what God has done for me and my family but I’m not going to hold a person hostage who has little faith. I’ve always said actions speak louder than words. I am the daughter of a preacher, hold the preacher’s daughter jokes. My earthly father’s actions versus his chosen profession is probably what kept me from being saved longer than it should have. It’s all because of rodeo I was finally lead to faith.

I was in college in 2003 and troubled with mostly normal things that plague a young woman in her early 20’s who has zero direction. I was riding around the college rodeo arena complaining to a sympathetic ear about everything under the sun and he turned to me and asked if I had been to church. I looked at him like he had lost his mind, he knew my history and if he thought I was going to listen to some hypocrite tell me all my sin’s are condemning me to hell he had another thing coming. That boy being wise beyond his ears pointed out that perhaps “it was not in his capacity to be a good father but in god’s plan for him, did I ever stop and think that maybe the only good thing god could get out of him was to lead people to faith?” Pretty deep words for a 19 year old calf roper from Oklahoma. If anyone reads this and see’s AJ Ormand tell him hello for me. Long story wrapped up I started going to church and in February 2003 I was baptized in the name of the lord.

Now for the people snorting and rolling their eyes because they’ve seen me in action at one time or another, the beauty of being a good Christian is no matter how hard anyone tries to be good we aren’t. People are full of sin and that means everyone even those who like to pretend they aren’t and the good news is you’re forgiven in spite of yourself. So no matter how hard I try to keep my mouth, in check I’m gonna probably say something I shouldn’t and it’s not ok but it’s forgiven.

Back to the reason I’m writing this. It’s very rare I don’t attend a barrel race and here some kind of testimony. I have NEVER been to a rodeo and not heard a prayer. If prayer offends you Rodeo is NOT your sport. Sadly the other night while riding my horse to the warm up pen before the barrel racing I overheard a couple of fellow contestants complaining because they had stopped the rodeo for all of 5 minutes to give a brief message. One of the contestants is one extremely blessed young woman but apparently she missed the memo rolling her eyes and her hauling partner made the comment, “They stopped the rodeo to preach, that’s East Texas for you.” She was young and trying to be cool but it was that moment I thought to myself as I was eavesdropping on their conversation, she’d have been a whole lot cooler if she’d have kept her mouth shut. I get tired of dodging rodeo queens trying to stop after the 8000 lap with a flag but they’re a part of rodeo and the crowd enjoys them and if their glitz and glamour fills the seats to help the rodeo committee stay in business then I will gladly accept it even if I have one horse who still to this day lives in fear of sequins. So if the rodeo committee wants to take a moment to have a dedication that could possibly bring another person to know god then I will sit there all night, whatever they want to do I just want to rodeo and I sure don’t mind hearing a good prayer before I go sailing into an arena on a 1200lb horse on ground that’s most likely either a mine field of rocks or something akin to a shuffleboard table.

I had just wrote the previous blog “That’s Right I’m not from Texas..” I got a chuckle thinking at that moment how proud in fact that a dedication at a rodeo made me glad to call East Texas my home. I will still probably never consider myself a Texan but maybe the good lord is telling me not to be so hard on them?

“That’s Right I’m Not From Texas”

To quote the iconic Lyle Lovett “That’s right you’re not from Texas,” is something I’ve heard more than once since moving to the Lone Star state. The part about “Texas wanting you anyway” is debatable. The first few times it was pointed out to me I’m not from Texas were not lost on me. One was before I met my husband, I had went out with a group of kids from Texas to the bar after a rodeo. I wanted to dance, the guy I thought was cute at the time told me quote, “this is Texas, girls down here dance a little different than what you’re used to.” First of all he obviously had never been out of the state he apparently thought I was going to bust into some really bad line dancing, and start slapping leather or something. I grabbed his less good looking but far more entertaining buddy and by the time it was over proved he was exactly right I didn’t dance like a Texas girl. I like to think of that as a learning lesson, I never again took any interest in a guy who went buy his first and last initials. A tip I will pass along to my daughter as soon as she starts dating, as it’s generally a sure sign of a guy being a straight up Toole. The next was a girl I was working with, I went into her office to get some papers she had asked me to fetch, only to see her computer screen where she and another person were making fun of me via private message over the fact I call carbonated fountain beverages “Pop” where as in Texas it’s called “Coke” except that if you ask me to bring you a Coke I am in fact going to bring you a Coca Cola. So much for calling her friend. The last was a cleverly disguised insult when I declined Sweet Tea in favor of a glass of water because there was no Coca Cola available. If I recall correctly the exact words were not implied but more of a statement, “Well we know you’re not a Texas Girl.” It was said in one of those passive aggressive tones with implications of a less than flattering nature which is exactly how she meant it.

These silly moments of lapses in other peoples judgment aside there are so things I love about living in Texas first off let’s start with my husband is here there are fine men all over the country but mines definitely one of the best, the weather in East Texas where we live is generally phenomenal, I live on sand so there’s very few days it’s too muddy to do something outside and real Mexican food. The kind served in Taco Trucks and places that look like there’s probably something shady going down there daily but I don’t care. As long as they keep bringing them Taco’s (the real kind on a soft corn tortilla with onions and cilantro) and please don’t tell me what the Carne Asada really is, it’s tasty and I don’t care.

As a non-Texas native who’s now raising a born and (I think but might be a Oklahoma we travel a lot) bred Texas woman there are a few traits about my Midwestern upbringing I pray my daughter retains through example and frequent trips home. A little about where I come from. I am a Missouri girl, back home we hold doors for everyone from a small child to an elderly person to someone from another country, something which has escaped the general population of men especially, in Texas. It’s astonishing the number of times I’ve had doors slammed in my face and once when I was packing my daughter in her car seat, a man took the shopping cart from me I had just grabbed by my truck. When I called him out on it he shoved the cart at me and said well here then. Back home we also stop to help change tires, since I moved to Texas I’ve had exactly 2 people stop to help me change a tire. One was a Hispanic gentleman named “Jody” and the other was a good friend who’s since passed away. Down here people charge 100 bucks to go get their neighbors cow in, back home everyone neighbors during spring and fall cattle works and the cost is usually a good meal at the Blue Top Café. My heritage is a mix of Scottish, German, and Native American. This translates into we know how to Dance, Drink, and Fight. I grew up at the family dance halls my musically talented people played weekly in. My Grandfather ironically taught me to waltz to the classic Waltz across Texas, on the asphalt in the bank parking lot at the county fair while my Great Uncle Dean played the fiddle and my mom sang.

As awesome though as all that sounds, as a little girl I often pretended to be in Texas, a rancher with the best horses. That dream came true in some aspects. We own our own horse operation I get to do what I love for a living and we do have some pretty fine horses but when I think back to a child hood filled with memories of days that will probably be far different from the one’s my daughter is about to grow up in I have to say to the people who so eagerly pointed out the short comings in my geographical origins….

“That’s right I’m not from Texas but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The Magic of a Mustang and a Mastercraftsman

Every year my husband competes in the Mustang Heritage Foundation’s annual Ft Worth Supreme Extreme Mustang Makeover. It’s an incredible event where trainers take wild never been haltered mustangs and have around 100 days to turn them into ride-able functioning horses. There is something magical about the fantasy of taming a mustang it’s been written about in books for years. Mustangs are an unknown, an unknown entity of unknown pedigree, mentality, and ability. Some become wonderful companions forming a stronger bond at times than regular domestic horses and others become talented performance horses and many are testing in the upper levels of dressage, performing in specialty rodeo acts, and holding their own in Stock Horse events. Last year I threw in and participated and ended up keeping my mare known by everyone on my FB and at the local roping pen as Eleanor. Yes I named her after the car in Gone in 60 seconds which is a movie I can quote by heart along with Tombstone and the Friday Movies. I caught a whole lot of flack for entering this event by professional trainers I deal with but I had watched my husband’s past 3 makeovers and was itching to give it a try. Having kept my mare I use her just like the quarter horses we own, People eye her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion and some amusement but at regular show’s VERY few people have anything to say to me about her that don’t already know us.

At this year’s mustang makeover my husband’s horse was a little snorty on the ground which kept him from being a finals contender in spite of how nice he is under saddle. During the non-qualifying horse demonstrations a young man approached my husband about his horse. Right away my husband could tell the young man was unique. He asked him lots of questions about his mustang, Rambling Man. My husband knowing his mustang needed to go on to a home where he would have a steady job told the young man he was still kinda wild and went on to point out the horses in the arena that were gentler than the one he trained and visited with him for quite a while.

Later on we spotted the young man at the trade show running a booth where he makes the most amazing 3D wooden puzzles. We stopped to visit with him a bit. He was very excited and proud as he told us all about his work. I watched a few people scurry past eyeing the puzzles but not bothering to stop. The young mans name is Gregory and we learned that he has Autism but earned his high school degree and is making a business out of these amazing puzzles (did I mention they’re hard?) and because I compare everything to horses I couldn’t help but think how much Gregory is like these mustangs. Everyday equestrian society doesn’t consider them normal horses. The majority of the world often is uncomfortable with people with disabilities but Gregory’s accomplishments and the puzzles he makes are exceptional just as the mustangs that continue out into the world to touch people are.

 We felt very blessed to have met Gregory who is obviously a shining example of how someone with a disability can overcome the odd’s.  I bought a puzzle of a rearing Mustang which is all of 10 pieces and took me 30 minutes to put back together when I got it home. I know I will use it to remind our daughter that she can do anything if she puts her mind to it. I want to encourage my readers to share this blog on their own and on their FB pages and with Christmas right around the corner go visit Gregory’s website and order a gift for someone. His website is http://www.gregorysgifts.com

BREAKING NEWS… Ray Rice is NOT a man!

Once upon a time not long ago I was standing in my favorite fast food restaurant. That wonderful place known to all as Whataburger. Inline in front of me I witnessed a disturbing scene. A family, mom and dad in their late 30s, a daughter around 7 or 8, stepped up to order. The husband ordered for everyone and when the mother went to correct him about what she wanted he shoved his hand in her face and told her to shut up. To which the little girl, who was clinging to her daddys shorts, giggled and sneered at her mom. The dad went onto run the mother down right there infront of god and everyone. The little girl giggling the whole way. She was clearly under her daddy’s spell and is clearly a candidate for the next victim of men like Ray Rice.

I am appalled at the delayed proper decision made by the NFL and Baltimore Ravens over the domestic violence video of Ray Rice. It’s a terrible world we are raising our daughters in, to think that nobody will stand up for them. I firmly believe without this second video there would have never been a proper punishment handed out. All sports organizations are coming up short in their punishment of legitimately criminal activities among players and personnel. The message they send is contributing to all that is wrong with the world. At the same time I am proud of the public backlash that finally forced the hand of the commissioner and his constituents. Society has to stand up for something when the almighty dollar is the only way to make these organizations hold someone accountable.

Young men and women look up to these athletes but they don’t realize is these ”role models” are not MEN. Ray Rice is not a man, nor is anyone else who abuses a woman, child, or animal in anyway. I’m talking from the man knocking his wife around, to the man that ignores his children, to the man who fights dogs, to the man whipping his head horse in the roping pen because he missed. None of them are a man. They’re a dumbass among other names but dumbass really does sum it all up. Ray Rice himself is not a man, he’s not a man for striking her, he’s not a man for allowing himself to marry her after he struck her. A real man would protect her from himself, he would have never struck her in the first place and he damn sure wouldn’t put her through it again. One can only speculate what the argument was about but the end result is the same.

I think back to that man in Whataburger. I’d stop going to Whataburger for a year on a bet that he probably watched the Ray Rice video on ESPN and had some snide comment in Ray Rice’s favor. His daughter doesn’t have a chance and it’s tragic.

Abuse is NO joke, mental or physical one is just as bad as the other. I’ve seen the strongest women crumble to abuse, women I never dreamed would put up with it. I’ve had a small moment in a relationship that was headed that direction. I stayed longer than I should have trying to make it work but in the end I left before I could justify being the star character in the Gunpowder and Lead video. The warning signs were there from the beginning it started with simply by habitually being made fun of infront of everyone. My point is Ladies if he makes you feel small in anyway and it’s not just your hormones and that time of the month, it only gets worse. His bank account, great dance moves, charming personality, or even his multiple gold buckles you like to brag to your friends about are never going to be worth your pride, dignity, and self esteem. You are never alone no matter what he tells you.

I was holding my own daughter that day in Whataburger. She’s is far to young to understand the significance of what we witnessed but there will come a day I will have to explain to her on the ride home how being treated like that is not OK. So for all the women out there in this kind of situation. You ain’t with a MAN and you should be. God is very specific about how a husband an wife should treat each other. Anything less is not acceptable. Even if its just  you don’t have children of your own, think of the little girl who might be watching somewhere who might not tell her mom what she saw. Do you really want her to think it’s ok to be with anyone less than a man?

The Horses that raise Horsewomen

There is a special breed of horse, the one that will always have our heart

They come in every shape and size and they can play every part

Pretending you were Charmayne James and Scamper, Hauling down the rodeo road

Or an Elegant Dressage Team in a makeshift arena, Competing for Olympic Gold.

A wild Comanche princess roaming the woods on her trusted wild mustang steed

The first woman to head at the NFR when you got the call for Vegas, he was the horse you’d need.

When times got rough growing up, he knew who at the mean kids were

But when the rodeo came to town and they all wanted a ride, he suddenly made you cool and popular

How many times you sat up late at night watching him win checks with dad or mom

And later he kept you out of trouble late at night because he needed you when a party was going on.

Yes this is a special horse, the one who is there to make us the horse woman we will become.

No matter where we go or what we do we would always saddle him again, if we had to pick just one.

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In Memory of a great horse – Jips Leo Sugar Bars 1987 – 2014

 

You make your own luck!

5 ways you can create your own luck. Food for thought after watching a whole lot of eye rolling this weekend at other peoples success.

Number 1. Always remember life ain’t fair. Lady luck is like playing dodgeball blind folded. Totally random.

Number 2 . Shut up listen and learn. From everyone! You might think you have it all figured out but nobody does and everyone is constantly evolving as the world and particularly the world of barrel racing is constantly evolving. People create their own opportunities because someone in the position to give them one noticed they were willing to learn.

3 . Your own jealousy will beat you every time. I’ve been guilty of it in the past we all have. But focusing to much on one thing or person and 10 other people will get ahead of you.

4. Luck is WORK….. the winningest trainers I know are the hardest working they create their own luck. I’m not talking one person with a great horse I’m talking those people who make multiple great horses every year. A lot of people are given great opportunities every day and they aren’t willing to work hard enough to make it pay off.

5 . Follow the golden rule! In case they’ve banned that from school too with prayer “Treat others as you want to be treated.” It doesn’t always work but it weeds out the people in your life who don’t appreciate it leaving you with positive people willing to support each other.

Clay O’Brien Cooper just had a great article on roping is what we do not who we are. Every person I know who’s happiness is dictated by their immediate success is a miserable person every where else. I’ve been there it SUCKS.

5 ways you can create your own luck. Food for thought after watching a whole lot of eye rolling this weekend at other peoples success.

Number 1. Always remember life ain’t fair. Lady luck is like playing dodgeball blind folded. Totally random.

Number 2 . Shut up listen and learn. From everyone! You might think you have it all figured out but nobody does and everyone is constantly evolving as the world and particularly the world of barrel racing is constantly evolving. People create their own opportunities because someone in the position to give them one noticed they were willing to learn.

3 . Your own jealousy will beat you every time. I’ve been guilty of it in the past we all have. But focusing to much on one thing or person and 10 other people will get ahead of you.

4. Luck is WORK….. the winningest trainers I know are the hardest working they create their own luck. I’m not talking one person with a great horse I’m talking those people who make multiple great horses every year. A lot of people are given great opportunities every day and they aren’t willing to work hard enough to make it pay off.

5 . Follow the golden rule! In case they’ve banned that from school too with prayer “Treat others as you want to be treated.” It doesn’t always work but it weeds out the people in your life who don’t appreciate it leaving you with positive people willing to support each other.

Clay O’Brien Cooper just had a great article on roping is what we do not who we are. Every person I know who’s happiness is dictated by their immediate success is a miserable person every where else. I’ve been there it SUCKS.

The Big, The Bad, The Bold, and the Scared to Death

It’s amazing how much we can learn about people through horses and the similarities in them if you really pay attention. Every year I get a new crop of young horses and every year I have one who thinks he or she is the baddest thing walking. This year it’s a grey filly. If you see me in the warm up pen on her and she’s checking out stay your course I will avoid you. At home she is queen, she runs everyone around you turn her out with, she stays on an end stall so she only has one horse to fight with. First time I took her into a crowded warm up pen I figured out quick that she is not as self-assured as she tries to act. She is scared to death of strange horses. Particularly strange horses coming at her. She is extremely broke but will look like a 30 day rider at her first play day in the warm up pen when faced with others. This filly has never failed to work for me in exhibition runs, which for the un-initiated is the practice runs we make on young horses that are not a run for money. She’s confident in the arena because she knows her job but when faced with the unknown you’d never guess it. The first time I realized this she had pretty much cleared a warm up pen at a barrel race back home in Missouri. Curiosity hounds, thrill seekers, and people wanting something to gossip about came in to watch her work when it was my turn to exhibition. She was a rock star and those hoping for a show left disappointed.

Thinking back over the years of people who were blatant bullies and watching people today with the same tendencies I see so many similarities. Some people get better and overcome their fear’s just like this filly is doing and years later I tend to like them a whole lot better than I did way back then. Some on the other hand are still fighting the same fight with the same chip on their shoulder. I ran into an old battle ax a couple years ago. The fact she stood her ground and glared at me when I spoke even though it’s been 10 years since I saw her last was proof enough she hadn’t changed. Nobody has it all figured out but we get better when we take the time to expand our mind which is why this filly is going everywhere and I’ve put her on cattle at my house and she will be started roping the donkey here shortly to give her other things to think about.

We also have a couple horses here at the house who are the real deal. They cause no trouble but take no crap. One of them is my husband’s calf horse the other is my retired barrel horse. Both of them are big buddies they have a truce between the 2 of them and nothing to prove to anybody. Any young horse feeling their salt though will be met with full acceptance of the challenge, but both those old geldings will also crawl in the middle of a fight to defend the same horse from another if they think it’s needed. These both are horses that have won numerous checks all over the country running barrels, roping both ends in team roping and other events. You can count on them both every time, they’re so similar to the kind of people that you see that are real leaders, the kind that are looked up too by all.

Real leaders are people you can take what they say to the bank. You can have a disagreement with them without a screaming fit or drama but you will see them go to the floor for what they think is right. They aren’t intimidated by anyone, they do their job just the same no matter if they’re at a local jackpot or going down the alley in the Superstake’s and they’re some of the finest horsemen and women out there whether they have a superstar or not that year. They’re few and far between which is probably the reason it’s so hard to find a solid seasoned horse you can count on and why they cost so much when you find one. Thank the good lord with the price of good horses today we don’t have to pay to know good people!

 

Banking like a Bad Ass… owning who you are and what you do.

The term BAD ASS brings to mind the likes of Kid Rock Songs, Jason Statham in ANY of his characters, any one of our military servicemen, and Pink. It’s definitely not something you think of when you think of mother hood no matter how tough our jobs truly are. In the horse world one of a horseman or woman’s most treasured possessions is a Bad Ass set of spurs. I wear a gorgeous set of spurs hand crafted for by Shawn Bradstreet (you’re welcome buddy) made for my husband and I’s 5^th wedding anniversary. I get spurs and guns on special occasions but that’s another blog…

These spurs have been the object of curiosity every time I wear them somewhere besides the arena or the feed store. I’ve had some pretty interesting conversations over the years but throw a baby on your hip and rock some spurs and it brings it to a whole nother level as I experienced the other day.

I received a phone call a couple days ago, that a very important piece of paper that would greatly benefit my bank account was at the post office. I had just gotten done feeding after riding a couple horses early before my arena started to feel like the Sahara. My husband had just left so my child was hanging out in her bouncer seat in the middle of the barn aisle. I wanted to get to the post office before my mail man left so I hauled tail without stopping to change clothes or remove the dirt from my little no shoe tolerating child’s toes.

Anyone who makes a living in the horse business will tell you there is no better feeling walking into the bank than to put money in not take it out. It’s rare because there is so much overhead in what we do. Our horses eat 4 star equine cuisine and we eat whatever is on sale at the penny sale at the grocery store. It puts a little extra strut in your strut and I’ve been accused a time or 2 of strutting when I walk not always on purpose except in my younger days. When I was pregnant my strut turned into a sway and eventually a Stwaddle. A stwaddle is when you feel beautiful pregnant (which I did) but can’t quite capture your balance for that effective “wind in your hair” walk. My strut is getting better as my body gets back in shape so feeling like a million bucks from a productive morning I went stomping it out into the bank with a baby on my hip and my spurs on.

I stopped in line and in front of me were 2 of the most typical types of women native to East Texas. One was a retired woman who was well dressed head to toe in off the rack from the local Belk’s dept. store which is pretty much the only decent place to shop in moderate sized East Texas towns where your only other option are the over priced boutiques geared towards the 20 something bohemian crowds. Her hair is perfect, nails are perfect, perfume is Liz Taylor something or other and or Wasp Spray (pretty sure they’re the same thing) also there is the lady who spent 3 hours putting on her Mary Kay makeup and then threw on a pair of Victorias Secret sweats and flip flops and covered up all that makeup with her Brighton Sunglasses that she wears as more of a head band than for her eyes.

My child has a way of getting attention already (that comes from her daddy I SWEAR) and today was no different. She brought a smile to the older ladies face who then went to say something to me as she gave me the once over but her eyes stopped at my feet where she took a moment to choose her words before complimenting me on a happy, beautiful, baby and making a joke about not hearing me “clank in.” I told her, “these spurs make no noise, I’m gonna need them to be that way when I have to chase this baby and don’t want her to hear me coming.” She got a kick out of that and went on to ask me about what we do and I had a super conversation with a woman whom I probably would have never spoken too. The sweat pants girl wanted to know where she could find a pair of spurs that did not clank because the guy she is dating ropes and his are annoying as he stomps around. I told her more than I am sure she wanted to know about good spurs and etc. I could see her eyes glaze over quickly but for my own entertainment, I kept going to see how long she could listen politely. She didn’t make it long.

I went on and deposited my check and left the bank with a little extra swing in my step. Outside as I was putting my daughter into her car seat in the back of my dually truck, the older lady rolled down the window to her Cadillac and told me how much she admired a mother who found a way to work and stay at home. She said that while she had never rode a horse in her life, she made a living as a stay at home mother selling the very Mary Kay the other girl was spackled in and that she had always felt invincible. I told her that while I have an amazing husband and baby daddy at home and I felt blessed to do what I do and not have to take a 9-5 job, packing my daughter around in a big old dually truck was a pretty invincible feeling too. She gave me a wink and pulled out and I thought to myself we all have our own ways we are bad ass and sometimes it just takes a cute baby and her momma in spurs to bring that out of other people.

Top 5 sub species of Barrel Racers

Top 5 sub species of Barrel Racer

NUMBER 5- The Clinic Groupy  This barrel racer spends thousands on clinics, equipment, and clothing endorsed by their one favorite clinician. They regard their idol in the manner akin to hero worship and can quote their movie word for word better than Val Kilmer’s Doc Holiday one liners in Tombstone. They drop his or her name in every sentence and will defend the clinician in a fight to the death. They’re often seen on the internet forums and private FB groups in scathing arguments defending any questionable intentions or dealings their idol has. Occasionally the clinician wrongs them in some way in which they promptly turn on their once hero and begin a smear campaign against the very person they used to fantasize about having a life size bronze image of in their arena.

 NUMBER 4- The supplement chef Ulcer medication manufacturers have made millions on this species. Horses being fed several different feed additives many of which might not react well together all to enhance the horses performance only to eat a hole in the horses gut. There is very little verified science proving the effectiveness of these concoctions and if you will notice they run a lot of sales and specials in the spring about when the green grass is coming in and the horses are shedding off. A molecular biologist can not make heads or tails of all the ingredients going to these horses buckets but the ad on the internet promised the horse to look like Impressive, run like Secretariat and turn like Hot Shot.

NUMBER 3- The Saddle Tramp These people are forever on the quest for the perfect saddle because they think their troubles with their horse begin and end with saddle fit. It’s not just one horse they have that might be hard to fit it’s EVERY horse. In reality these riders just want a new saddle but they’re going to use that hit barrel as an excuse to buy one even though it might have been that they jerked a little to hard on that outside rein forcing the shoulder in. Only one person I know does that successfully everyone else should stop it. Becoming a saddle tramp is often a side effect of ordering a saddle that’s too small. This needs a bigger pocket, it needs more swell, it needs a tilted horn the problem is seldom recognized as too small a seat so the saddle is returned and the vicious cycle begins again. These often are the fashionistas of the horse industry as well.

NUMBER 2-The horse hypochondriac– Every Veterinarians nightmare or hero depending on the size of the bank account funding the horse hypochondriac. Bay looks gloomy off to the vet we go. Bucky clocked 2 tenths off it has to be a shoeing issue. Nothing is the horses fault it’s always “There’s an issue” Many veterinarians wives rock bigger rocks on their fingers thanks to the horse hypochondriacs. The opposite of the horse hypochondriac is the penny pincher. This barrel racer doesn’t have the money to get the horses teeth done or feet x-rayed but they are at at least 2 barrel races a weekend. The barrel racing Penny Pinchers can be best spotted rocking the East Texas Hock Injection. This is a tie down that is sucked down way too tight, applied to help the horse “get on its rear” even though a set of hock and stifle injections would do the same thing.

ANnd….

 

NUMBER 1- The Bit Junky- This is the horse person equivalent of a shoe addict for those who don’t know horses. There are not the gorgeous handcrafted Pollards, Kelly’s, Klapper’s, and Crockett bits you see being traded on the internet valued for their purchase, balance, and feel. No these are any bit the Bit Junky doesn’t have in the trailer that might lift, rate, smooth, tuck, or collect old Speedy. Seldom will 90% of these bits ever be used more than once and many will be resold years later on FB or possibly even a malicious husband might use them as very effective leverage in a nasty divorce because he lost out to barrel racing.