Terry MacDonald looking over Willow Creek Drainage

Last Saturday I went for a day ride. A day ride is when you do chores, load a horse, go somewhere, ride for a while; then load up, go home and do chores. This year when I’ve been doing this I’ve been saddling my horse before I load him. Someone suggested to me a while back that he might be cold backed. Which means he needs to get used to the saddle before I get on.  Admittedly this discussion occurred after the suggestee watched me get bucked off, moments after I got on, the same horse we’re talkin’ about here.

Anyway, last Saturday I caught him, a chore for another story. We went to the trailer and I led him the to the grain pan I’d put out as a reward for being caught. He lowered his head. I lowered my head. It was empty. He looked at me and I looked at the pup. She was licking her lips and looking straight into my eyes. The horse licked the bottom of the pan. It was a family moment.

So we got over that and I brushed him down and saddled him up. I knew we had a way to go so I didn’t cinch him down too hard. We did the other stuff you have to do before you go. He stepped right in the trailer; I told the dogs to STAY HOME! and off we went

I dealt with the low trailer tire, which went flat, but that’s another story.  After 30 miles of the most rough knucklin’, shock bustin’, slip slidin’ washboard road I’d been on in days we got where I’d said I’d be before the time I’d said I’d be there.

Said “Howdies!” Walked back and opened the trailer door. I looked at Dusty. He looked at me.

I looked back and noticed my saddle was almost under his belly. It was really kind of caught up against his legs on his right side. The felt pad had come against his right stifle and was holding the whole rig from going all the way underneath. I cursed. He looked at me.

I called to my friend Terry MacDonald. He came running, he looked, he cursed. The horse looked at us both.

Talking “Whoa.” all the time I walked into the trailer and lifted the saddle. Tried to slide it around his girth to where it belonged. No go.

Terry said, “If you got it (the saddle) I’ll undo it.” An easy task since the cincha buckles were now on the top of the horses back. So I held the weight and he undid the buckles. The horse was just pushing his muzzle against my neck and talking trash about” just getting out of the, expletive deleted, trailer. “ (My horse can curse too when he chooses.)

Saddle off and set aside the trailer I untied him and out we went.  We both walked around and looked around some, I saddled him again and we went for a good ride on a fine spring day.

Everything about this story could have been a wreck, but it wasn’t. I don’t know if it was luck. I don’t know if it was a miracle. I do know I’m putting my trust in the horse.

By: Robbin Schindele