Chores and Memories

Yesterday I had a few things I wanted to check off my list. First was getting a half ton of beautiful Eastern Washington Grass hay from Sarah, followed by a lesson with her on Wesley. Since I was on that end of the county, and am not often nowadays, I met up with my god old friend and her new son Warren. She wanted to show me the foal she plans to get from LF. You long readers must remember the story of how I got into horses, The Arabians, the Quarter Horses, and the Journey. So I went with her to see the little foal, whom she calls Buck now, and he sure looks a lot like her old horse, Fawn.

Buck shares the same stud that Fawn did, making them not only visually similar but half-siblings. He sure is a cutie. And his dad, Joey still looked the same, although some years older now. It was rather strange to be back on LF's property and seeing a few of the same horses again after some years. Many things remained the same however, and lucky for me she was out of town so I didnt need to further stir up any memories.

Buck sleeping, and the grey is is Mom

I saw Maggie too, one of the horses LF has had for some time. She still bore the scars of an old injury I remembered her getting. Maggie looked so much the same, just older, of course, and with a swayback. It was nice to see the sweet mare again.

After we visited with Buck and the other horses, we had plans to visit J and his wife! I had periodically seen them when at work, and I knew I needed to get out to their farm before they went back to California for the winter. I was really excited to get out to their farm, see which horses were there rather then their other home in Cali, and to of course, catch up.

The farm looked much the same as five years ago when Milo and I moved.

The farm coming up the driveway

There, the black one, is Amadaan, and towards the back is the covered arena, behind that their seven stalls. It really as nice to see the horses again, five of them travel from California to Washington every year. Rocky, Vilya, Amadaan, Taffy, and Mackie were all there. Mackie I had never actually met and J told me about how they bred him, sold him later, found out he was half starved to death, and bought him back a few years ago. He is awful cute and sweet.

Time was running out, however, and I still had a half ton of hay in my truck and a hungry Milo at home. We said good-bye to J and his wife, and I headed out to Milo.

The old red Ford can still get the job done!! Although it would be a lie to say it wasnt working hard...

Before unloading, the hay stall needed some cleaning up...

I piled all the loose hay and loose bedding on the ground into a huge heap. Then rearranged my remaining ten or so bales so we can finish that up first. By the end of it all I myself probably moved about a full ton. But look how nice and organized it all is now!

It sure seemed a shame to toss out all that loose hay, but it really had gotten dusty and dirty from the bedding too. And it was rather old now anyways (there was still hay on the floor from the BO's old hay in there).

And now, this morning, I sit icing my back. :P

Thinking of an Old Cowboy

I was talking to Boyfriend about this the other week while driving to our favorite store, Cabela's. Im not sure why it came across my mind, as do many odd things, but I had to bring it into conversation.

It was that I wished I could have learned more from Old Cowboy when I had the chance. I mentioned Old Cowboy in my series expanding, rather undetailed however, about my journey into horses, The Arabians, The Quarter Horses, and The Journey. All I really mentioned about Old Cowboy was how tough and difficult he was, and how J was my saving grace in my lessons. Old Cowboy would leave me in tears, feeling inadequate and in a wallow of self pity. But I really should be giving better credit towards the knowledgeable old cod.

See, Old Cowboy came to stay with J and his wife back in the late eighties. He had developed himself, his training program, and his Arabians in the cowboy country of California. J and his wife brought him out to their farm here in Western Washington, at the time they were breeding Arabians and needed someone to start their colts, and finish their personal horses. Old Cowboy came up and did the job as asked, all with his own Vaquero flair.

When I was younger and was under the influence of Old Cowboy and his early lessons, I remember coming across, what to my ignorant eyes, looked to be a pure torture device. That was, a spade bit. My mindset being very much in the natural horsemanship methods and with no concept of real training or especially traditional training, I immedietly asked J what the bit was intended for. He responded Old Cowboy used it for highly trained, finished horses. Well I wanted nothing to do with that bit and it's evil, I affirmed to myself, and put it aside. Now a small part of me started to not want to hear what Old Cowboy had to teach. In my young eyes, he was a cruel old man and had nothing of real benefit to teach myself.

Old Cowboy did, in fact, have much to teach. And that is the subject of today.

With more knowledge as well as interest in the traditional ways of Vaquero training and methods put into their ultimum ranch versatility and cow horses, I wish I could sit down and talk to Old Cowboy firsthand about these well crafted methods. I only have the knowledge of what I can read, and its going to be a rare and wonderful day if I ever cross the path of one of those old, California Cowboys again.

You see, Old Cowboy died at the late age of 94, at the home of J and his wife, amongst his closest companions: the Arabians he bred and raised. He died four years ago. He didnt leave a family; his son had died long ago. He had no wife or other relatives. No one person he left all of his infinite wisdom with. J and his wife learned some of the practices he employed, but being trail riders themselves, they only really wanted a safe broke trail mount. They personally didnt have much interest in having a finished cow horse, one who could hold that spade bit regally, and with the subtlest of cues successfully work and manage a cow at top speed.

Oh, if only I could sit down with Old Cowboy today, and actually listen to what he had to give. Appreciate and learn from the personal experiences of training those ranch horses. I wish so much, yearn even, to learn about those old practices. How those horses were taught through the loping hackamore, almost a sidepull, to the bosal, the two rein, then the finished bridle horse. I wish I could feel the way they would stretegically hold those reins, see the changes in the horses as they progressed. I wish I could have watched Old Cowboy ride one of those finished cow horses, after seeing the building blocks leading up to that finished masterpiece.

But if wishes were horses, as the saying goes. 

Google Image - http://www.annieophoto.blogspot.com/ I just thought this was a prime example of the Vaquero methods

I'm only melancholly over the fact that I didnt appreciate and learn as much as possible from the fantastic teacher that was in my life for more than just a handful of years. I wish that I hadnt had my head in such an ignorant and closeminded gutter that I could have listened to the wealth of knowledge that was cleverly slipping from that Old Man's file cabinet.

I think, even though I cannot change the past or sit down with the Old Cowboy now, at least finally coming to appreciate what he had to offer is in and of itself a proper way to remember him. As I sadly didnt remember him that way as he was laid to rest. Now, I can look back and understand the knowledgeable man that was, and while still wish I had utilized our time together better, I can still appreciate what was given to me. Even if only after the grave now. Please don't take those important people in your lives for granted, even those that to you at the time may deem unimporatant, because everyone has something to offer and to teach even if it isnt what you chose to listen to.