Discussion: True Horse-Related Confessions
Nov 27 2007
In case you’re wondering, I’m home sick with bronchitis so I’m going to be a posting fool until I recover enough to go back to work! (Anyone with a great cure for this, please feel free to share. I’m hacking up my lungs and I can’t get enough breath to push a wheelbarrow, which is really interfering with my life.)
So here’s tonight’s discussion: What’s your true (horse-related) confession? What would your horsey friends give you shit about forever if they only knew?
Here’s mine. My friends who read this blog are going to laugh so hard they’ll choke but…every time I go to an Arabian show, I think it would be kind of fun to have an Arabian just to get to go in Native Costume.
I love the blingy outfits, and you get to gallop around like a fool. It looks like fun. They don’t do anything that fun at the hunter or the AQHA shows. At least not in this country.
OK, my secret is out – what’s yours? Are you harboring a secret desire to own a driving mini? Or do you sadly admit you really DO want a Gypsy Vanner? Or, even though you think his training methods are retarded, you think Pat Parelli has a nice ass?
Now’s the time – pour yourself a drink and ‘fess up, we’re all going to look silly together!
749 comments to “Discussion: True Horse-Related Confessions”
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FHOTD said:
Those of you with the secret desire to try polo, if you’re in the PNW, e-mail me – you can come over and I’ll give you a lesson on my old retiree polo pony!
…………………….
OMG do I ever need a lesson!
Last week a friend decided that polo looked like what we should do.
Of course being rednecks we have no clue and no equipment.
We all got brooms and a soccer ball and had an absolute blast.
I was riding a 16 hand QH gelding….I need a longer broom or a shorter horse and to lose about 50 pounds, hanging off the side of that horse to whack the ball was quite a challenge.
n1c0rn5Aelfleah Farm said:
I’m breeding my Arab mare to a Cob stallion because I want the hairy feet… There are other really good reasons, but the secret reason is the hairy feet…
As far as I know, feather (hairy feet) is a recessive trait. (Which was confirmed by the lady who owns the Gypsy I want to breed Lily to.) So you have to have hairy feet to get hairy feet.
So I don’t think you’ll get what you want from that cross. (Unless your Arab has hairy feet). And it takes three generations to get it back.
It’s part of the reason I want to breed a drum horse from my mom’s clyde. She’s got feather.
I was showing a stallion in a conformation class, and had been moved to the head of the line. I set him up, and waited for the judge to finish her placings, not really watching him, as he was such a pro. He decided to amuse (abuse?) himself while waiting, which was brought to my attention by his owner loudly yelling “Whack it!” – meaning crop to offending body part. A hundred or so people in hysterics sure make a lot of noise……
Dear JstPam, so it was YOU up on the concourse winding up the mechanical horses!!?? The truth comes out. Just wait until next year when we wear our red carnations and finally meet up. And did you see that Beautiful-Morgan says she wants another Appy? What are we going to do with that girl?
Hey IncognitoMosquito, if you’d like a plain bay then come on over to the Morganside and we can fix you right up.
when i bailed off my horse and broke my wrist I was back on the next day (and oh my god the pain), because I was absolutely terrified that if I DIDN’T get on a horse right then I’d be too scared to ever get on one again. Luckily we had a lame-on-stall-rest horse who needed to be walked around. We made quite a pair in our bandages. I wanted to do a leadline class -lol-
Right after I got my cast off my orthopedic surgeon made me promise that I wouldn’t ride for a week or two because I no longer had a cast protecting my arm. So next day what happens? Coach says “Miriam, jump up on Tango and trot her for a bit” Um… but… okay! A week later I jumped a 3 ft jump for the first time on a horse that shouldn’t have been jumping that high yet and overjumped by a foot. And of course landed horribly, on my wrist. Best. Idea. Ever.
on gypsy = arabian crosses, here is an example… second horse down.
you’ll end up with longer fetlock hair, not full fluffy feathers.
http://www.surreysprings.net.au/
gypsy-sport.htm
also, I really, really hate the term “gypsy sport horse” they’re just crossbreds. they may become sport horses when you… you know… do a sport with them.
hey rin –
my life was not ended because of a helmet.
i love my brain bucket too.
i never ride without.
oh, and I would KILL if I could have a roan warmblood jumper mare. I LOVE ROAN!
i wear sandals at the barn. a lot.
Aww, I’ve remembered another one.
As a child I really really wanted to have a pony so I could ride it to school and back. I figured the playground had ample grass that the pony would be well occupied. It’s probably a good thing I never had a pony of my own, otherwise I definitely would have tried it.
And secretly I desire to be able to ride a horse to work and back, rather than drive.
And Fugly, you’ll get a kick out of this, a horsey friend and I went to see Beowulf recently and we were significantly disapointed with the quality of the CGI on the horses. In fact, every single nag qualified as a feature here. We were ripping on them out loud in the theatre.
There was even a point where one of hte characters runs his horse across a burning bridge and jumps the broken area (which is hanging about 1000 feet above the bottom of a gorge) Very, VERY loudly, I exclaim “OH HELLLL NO!” quite pointedly ignoring the fact that there was a dragon in the movie too…
I usually wear slip-on sandals around my horses. I’ll wear boots if I’m going to be working with them or riding. My reasoning is pure laziness. I don’t like to track dirt into my house, and I zip in and out often enough that I don’t want to take the time to unlace boots and then lace them back up. The slip ons are perfect…. hopefully, I won’t walk out there today and get stepped on.
Once my spooky young horse stepped on the heel of my slip on shoe, and I went sprawling, I wasn’t hurt, but my shoe didn’t fair as well. It turned out to be a good training move, haha, horse was scared of falling human, so the next week, every time I’d lead him anywhere, I’d simply “trip” arms whirling around and crumple up. He now would not be upset to have a human trip and fall around him, therefore he is a safer horse to work around.
Many years ago,when I was schooling a lot of young horses,I decided that the stirrups were just getting in the way.So whenever I had a horse to school in the arena I would take the stirrups right off the saddle. It got so that I could not ride with stirrups, of course jumping and trail riding were ok, but to school a horse on the flat, I had a hard time keeping my position with my feet in the stirrups..
The only time I have ever been truly run away with was while excercising one of the Irish field hunters I was looking after. I could control where we went but could just not stop,pulley rein did not work,so I circled,smaller and smaller circles,til I was afraid he would fall…ugh,I was really pissed and exhausted when he finally stopped,but when I recovered a bit I asked him to canter again and made him go some more..
I also hate riding in western saddles,can’t find an effective position and I feel way too far away from the horse.I would rather ride bareback.
Marz Barz, I agree with you about P.P.s character,thinks he’s Gods gift….
Oh yeah, I wanna do my dressage freestyle to Pink Floyds “Run Like Hell”…
Most of my embarrassing secrets happened with my old Paint gelding, who I’ve had since he was 2 and I was 13!
I tried the break-a-water-balloon-on-his-head trick when he reared up.
I took a drink of water from an irrigation ditch that we were riding in at the time.
I rode my horse to the vet with the neighbor boy I had a crush on; when I got off I discovered I had gotten my period and it was on my saddle. Had to keep my hand over it till I got back on so he wouldn’t see!
I’ve never peed in a stall, but I’ve peed on the lawn to try to get my dog to go.
I dream of owning a Friesian, to ride Western. (And could I show him in Western Pleasure??)
I also dream of owning a harness race horse, and letting him live like a real horse in the off season.
I want a herd of horses running in my pasture, just to look at.
A friend of mine had a horse who was ridden exclusively in a mechanical hack, jigging constantly and willing to run away with her rider. I decided that I would start her in a plain old ring snaffle. So, I took her in the round pen, saddled and bridled, and mounted up. Well, I’d forgotten that my “breaking” saddle (one that I don’t care what happens to it) had been used for an extra rider a while back. The stirrups were WAY too short, useless, and this mare takes off around the round pen (60ft) a full out gallop. Very, very difficult to ride around in a fast, small circle on a slippery saddle with no stirrups. I managed to not come off, she finally slowed down and then training progressed from there. It was a scary few minutes though! She got so she was OK in a snaffle, but the jigging and whoa were never perfected before my training sessions with her ended. Ah well, she had a lifetime home as a pretty much full time pasture ornament, anyway.
AMY–
i LOVED your comment about Beowulf- when i went to see it the other week with my boyfriend, he got midly irritated with my loud complaining about how FAKE the horses looked. and i’m pretty sure i just burst out laughing when the horse jumped the burning, swaying wood and rope bridge. pft.
I exercised race horses for a grand total of one day. Worked for months to prove myself and just about soiled myself during my first ride. Scared me to death.
I want to buy a mini-cart and train my pygmy goat to drive so that I have an excuse to buy a mini-horse. Sniff… but it’s not a secret.
I don’t wear a bra (nothing to hold up)so I’ve never had issues with horn/bra hook-ups, but I lacerated myself on a diamond shaped silver concho while riding in a WP class. The judged used us second and commented on the fact that I’d maintained my poise while bleeding all over. Hey, I paid for the class, I was going to finish it.
Sara marie:
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did not shut up at all in that movie. Of course it didn’t help I was sitting next to my ADD friend who happens to bring out the ADD in me… Luckily most of the people sitting around us were friends (we went with a large group opening weekend, they were decked out in SCA garb)
We also learned that stilettos are apparently period Viking. Who knew?!
Oh, oh, oh, I just remembered! I got a serious fracture (open comminuted fracture of the distal third of the tibia and fibula) from a seriously cranky abused mare I took in for training.
I had all of this hardware screwed into my leg but it wouldn’t heal. So I was casted in anticipation of having surgery to insert a steel rod into my tibia.
When they cut the cast off the day before the surgery, hay fell out. My surgeon lost his mind and read me the riot act. Which I accepted without reproach because, hey, I was going to be unconscious and at his mercy the next day.
I didn’t have the guts to tell him that I’d gone out and sat on my 16 HH TWX gelding nightly.
I am really enjoying reading these!
Most Embarassing: I have ridden hunter/jumper ALL my life. Nothing else. Ever. After a clinic, a rather well-known eventer offered me a working student position with him. Our barn manager insisted I take him up on this. I flew down to his place for a week to give it a try. After three days of listening to how much hunters suck, being horrifically homesick, and one extremely humiliating lesson (I cried after it…and I am not like that)I said my mom was sick and flew back home. I don’t think ANYONE was happy with me.
Confession: I am in love with a FUGLY TB ex-eventer who looks and moves like a foundation bred quarter horse, who is totally insane and jumps every thing at about mach 3. Pretty much the opposite of all things hunter.
I’ve seen another Yvette on here – I’m the Canuk – MBRA518
Kay – no you are not the only one wanting a American Cream Draft…. I’ve never even seen one in real life – but I want a team-lol
I’m supposed to be a barrel racer though – I never seem to bother racing anymore.
OK here are my confessions… I have been riding since 10 months – leadline – 3 years old all by myself – I’m like one of those kids from the pictures lol. I didn’t start wearing a helmet until I was 23 – and then only on solo trail rides … I now wear the bucket all the time and have converted my parents too – both barrel racers – my mother’s probably saved her life last year – made her x-mas gift easy last year too (the replacement).
I’ve done many stupid things in my time – barefoot – bareback… the worst was only a couple years ago – riding my gelding, who can be a little hot, bareback after not having ridden him for 2 weeks – I went off the bugger twice – then came to a hill he liked to run up – instead of getting off – I decided it would be a good idea to “INSIST” he walk up it bareback….. The horse never rears – but popped up a little – I slid back – he lost his footing and over we both went….. Then he gets up and takes off – not for the barn… noooo for the busy road – luckily the 2 transport trucks had time to stop and he ran back to the barn….. That was by far my biggest DUH moment!…. Of course he was promptly saddled and we walked up and down that hill for 1/2 an hour! – we riders are gluttons for punishment aren’t we!
True confession: I rode and showed big lick TWHs briefly, many years ago. Had to see if it was really as bad as it seems (it is, it is!). But found an incredible mare that way, and she had a great life once liberated from that nightmare.
Secret fantasy: To ride on a color guard or drill team. Considering I have never ridden western, I ride only in a saddleseat or dressage saddle on a very pacy TWH that has a completely lateral canter so he cannot maintain a lead to save his life, and I’m terrified of bolting…. I’m confident it will remain a fantasy, but I do watch it at the rodeo every chance I get and dream. Love watching the PBR too.
I did all the pretending to be a horse stuff, too, with an addition I haven’t read here yet: Did anyone else eat grass? I did, for several years in elementary school.
On the subject of movies: my husband absolutely refuses to see any movie involving horses with me as I cannot stop tearing them apart. Drives me crazy to watch.
And my guilty desire breed is draft ponies: Halflingers, Fell and Dales ponies, drafty cobs, whatever. Hubba hubba.
Adding another one… I think leopard Appys are the cutest thing ever and I wish I could find a leopard-spotted 16.2 TB, but something tells me that would be impossible.
Hey Ana, I ride a 16 h Racing Leopard appy xPercheron
Very very fun ride =D
LOL I DO own driving minis! My husband loves to drive – I’d rather ride, and he doesn’t care much for riding, so it works out. ;o)
Okay – I am SOOOO going to get roasted for this, but I have eaten horse meat and it was actually good. Now, before you get all pissed, I was in a foreign country and it honestly NEVER occurred to me that it was really horse meat. You know how some restaurants like to get all cutsey with their menus – I just assumed that was the deal. By the time I realized it, I had been eating it for a few weeks. Yikes!
Confession:
I have now read every one of the 630 comments on this thread.
Another:
As a 45-yr-old who had never had a lesson in her life, and who did yet not ride, I bought myself a 3-yr-old totally green Haflinger to become “my trail horse.” He spooked and tossed me the second time I rode him in our pasture, and I have not ridden since. He did come right over to check on me, and stood looking into my face with great concern. (My girls ride him. He’s now an awesome trail horse, brave, surefooted and smart…so I know I can select a good horse; but I still don’t have the nerve to ride.)
Another:
I am very happy as a horsekeeper only! I enjoy cleaning stalls, and I take great pride in the fact that our horses are happy and well-cared-for. I don’t think I will ever try riding again. It really hurts to fall, at this age!
I have picked up horse nuggets with my bare hands.
I paid WAY to much for a “rescue,” and I don’t regret a penny of it.
I once whispered to a mean Arab mare that her hide would make a mighty pretty set of luggage.
When I was about 8 I slipped away from my parents and their friends who were showing us around a local, rather famous Thoroughbred race horse farm. I hand-fed a stallion whose fence I’d been warned to stay away from — he had a reputation as a widow maker. He ate from my hand like a lamb, and his eyes said, “Thank you for being kind.”
I read Fugly every day, much to my eternal shame. You guys are great!
My3Arabs said…
Enigma said…
So… does anyone else say “whoa” and “stand” to their dogs??? And then think, duh, it’s the dog!
November 29, 2007 8:29 AM
———————————-
Hehehe, I say it to my dogs, cats, husband and 9 yr old son. People in the stores are always giving me weird looks when I get after my 9 yr old using horse terms.
November 29, 2007 9:57 AM
Funny but true. My brother’s girlfriend has three little kids and I always catch myself clucking to them and using whoa and “quit” but personally I think the horses mind better than most kids
2 more to add to the fray:
1) i was a horse crazy child without a horse, and as a compromise, my dad bought me one of those pony-sized horses on springs. its name was lightning and he made hoofbeat and whinnying noises and everything. well, i “rode” lightning with such enthusiasm that i gave myself whiplash and was in a neck brace for a month (as a squirmy 5 year old). and they say riding is risky!!
2) this is actually my hubby’s, but too funny not to share – i am getting him into horses and last night he announces he wants to get a mare and name it “your mom.” why, i ask. he says, so i say ridiculous things like…
i rode your mom so hard last night that she was sweaty when i got off.
and
i make sure to wear leather and carry a whip when on your mom.
and
who just pooped in the arena? oh, it was your mom.
very mature, i know. but very funny. i could see endless hours of fun having a horse with such a name!
I too, have read EVERY comment on this topic, and had some great laughs doing so!
I’ve also come to realize that we are not the crazy ones. It’s those who have never felt a horse breath on their skin, or a nuzzle from a velvety muzzle, or heard a whinny of anticipation at the sound of your voice, or enjoyed a silent moment listening to a horse munching on some hay (or caught a bra on a saddle, or picked up poo with a bare hand, hahaha!) – they are the crazy ones! They have no idea what they are missing.
Megan said…
I want to own an Arab.
And jump it. *dies of shame*
And what’s wrong with that? I do own an Arab, and I DO jump her. She’s fantastic at it.
zhenya –
My younger sister and I had Lightning, too. Ours was black pinto. One time (I was 5, she was 3), I was riding him, but she wanted to. so she came up to me, and bit my thigh so hard it drew blood. I went running and screaming upstairs to tell on her, and of course by the time my mom got back down, she was happily clip-clopping away on the horse.
I still have a scar, and that was 25 years ago now.
Fire of the Phoenix…
Glad you’re alive!
the biggest complaint I hear about helmets is that they “look dorky” but I point out that they are not *nearly* as dorky as motorized wheelchairs or pine boxes!
Ok.. i have been lurking for awhile but i have laughed all day at this post… have gotten absolutely nothing done at work today . THanks FHOTD!! this one was awesome…
my confessions.
I dont own a horse but will soon:
I wanna barrel race, run balls to the walls and blow every one elase away.
I am a sucker for a black and white paint… would ignore evertyhing short of a missing leg as long as he was a cool color!!!!
I spoil my bf’s horse rotten and take pleasure in the fact that he likes me better! (he cant understand why…its the treats that he doesnt know about!)
luvmymare said…
personally I think the horses mind better than most kids
November 29, 2007 12:42 PM
That is so true! When my 9 yr old is driving me nuts at the store I tell him that the dog behaves better. I have also said that I will leave him home and bring the dog instead.
Sometimes it seems that I am the only one at the store who will admit that my son is being a monster, and then correct him. The rest of the kids run willy nilly all over the place.
ok, I thought of a confessions–I want a mini-hinny! Maybe I could teach it to drive though from what I hear hinnies are about useless and are the opposite of mules in much more than their breeding… still, to be able to tell people you have a mini-hinny, lol
What is going to sound like a dumb question. How do you tell a mule and a hinny apart?
In a fit of ‘oh god, I can’t let it go that cheap’ I bought what was called a mini-mule at an auction. Later someone called it a mini-Hinny.
Honestly, I bought the little sorrel brat because it was going so cheaply and my daughter was already buying some minis so what the hey – one more body in the trailer. She also gets along with my other sorrel brat (who is a mini-horse). They match so well, I think next spring they are going to become a mini-driving team.
Yes, when you have a 1/4 section and a well paying job – you can afford to have a lot of hooved pets. (Also have bought 200 over 1 tonne bales of hay too to cover the winter – but that’s cool.)
I am still amazed I lived through half of the dumb, crazy assed and dangerous things I have done, while horseback. I used to beg to get to ride- thought I should’ve been born back in the day of cowboys and all.
One horse who survived me/I survived him, was a short little QH gelding aptly named- Shorty. Bay, pretty much nondescript, no wonderful pedigree, just a decent tolerant gelding.
Had him tied to the hitchin’ rail one day while grooming and tacking for our ride. For some unknown and WAY TOOOOO INCREDIBLY STUPID reason I walked up behind him (AND thank GAWD off to one side just enough) grabbed him by the dock of his tail (right where it comes out of his body…) and yelled “Tailsies!” That poor gelding had his back feet in front of his front feet and his ass tucked under his chin! I have no idea to this day WHY I did it, but damn it, it was funny at the time!
I was sooo lucky he hadn’t hauled off an kicked me like he did later on in life 3 times at least and one time resulting in a permanent hoofprint in my right leg above my ankle and me on crutches for several days.
Then while riding one day we find a loose horse. Black mare, average looking possibly in foal, we take her ‘home’ and start scanning the ‘hood, banging on doors. Dellusions of Grandure thinking we will be keeping the mare and soon having a foal! Meet the neighbor who keeps her for a short time ’til picked up by owners. Neighbor has a barrel horse and is sooo waaaay ultra Cool. (To us anyways)
So we all start riding together. Decided to race one day- after all she was bragging about just how fast her mare is…
Well we end up picking the field next to the church, 6′ high chain link fence on 2 sides, parking lot on the third and of course the road on the fourth side. Well common sense aside we race towards the road. Not exactly brilliant I know! My BFF goes over to the end by the road to act as the finish line.
She drops her hand and yells “GO!”, I kicked the ever loving crap outta Shorty and yelled YAAAH! at the top of my lungs, (I can yell pretty damn loud too!) I felt his rear end drop and suddenly we launched forward. In two or three strides we were in full gear when he decides he has had far more than enough of me and starts bucking. EVERY STRIDE- rear hooves higher than my head (NO helmet of course!) BUCKING & running to beat hell, as if the devil himself was after us.
We did win and somehow I managed to pull him up before we reached the road. Did I mention a quick right turn and a few houses down would be home? Had we come blastin’ down the street and into the drive I surely would not have been allowed to ride anymore. Go figure! LOL
We hung off those horses, ran those horses up and down hills, learned to ride bareback, (even dropping the knotted reins at a full gallop on a canal bank to do The Black Stallion beach scene- hard ground, bareback, no helmet- NOT a good idea thinking back…) took more than one unsuspecting guy riding into the orange groves for a little smoochin’, they didn’t seem to object, broke my little finger once on that same gelding, because of his bucking.
Watched as a friend at the time got dumped at a full gallop and laughed our asses off before picking her up our of the dirt, grass and manure- she ended up with a serious concussion, and our parents all feard lawsuits on a grand scale for everyone. Still laugh- to this day at the visuals of the horse galloping one way and her landing, then tumbling backwards. (Sorry Jenny!)
Drank while riding Tai, my 16h,PB Arab gelding, and crazier than anything with hooves. Hopped on him bareback for a spin through the next door park. Neck reinning (sp?) wasn’t his forte’, and although I steered right, he went left and I came off, landing on my feet without spilling a drop or dropping my can of RM Spring Water-aka Colorado Kool-Aide. Decidinng that wasn’t good enough, I hopped back up on him sans the beer can to “Teach him a lesson”. Famous last words…
Take off at a swift canter- ended up being a nice one too, but as we turned towards the pens he takes off across the grass. I got him turned back towards the group and headed right at them, but forgot about those big drainage grates in the ground with cement around them- like the ones in the Wal-Mart parking lots… (Yeah, Those!) didn’t remember they were there, until spotting it looking down his shoulder, while we were in the freaking air!
We had tried jumping before, but it was always a crap shoot if he would go over, stop or duck around each one. He gathered himself and jumped that damn grate and I, by the seat of my pants and a lot of luck, stayed on him, over it. Stopped him by my friends and got off. Why push it?
Same gelding a few years later, I was finishing up and decided he was behaving well enough to ride back to the pen. Hop on him bareback, halter & leadrope- not tied for reins mind you, just snapped to the ring underneath.
He bolted for the gate as soon as I was on him. He rounded two corners at lightning speeds, went through the 3′ wide gate, narrowly missing the post with my kneecap, and down the aisleway which included a 3 foot deep 6 ‘ wide wash -we cleared that one too, and off to the other side of the arena, where he stopped on a dime as I yelled Whoa, and a stream of obscenities. (Again no helmet)
And the words “You, of ALL people, Should KNOW better!” keep replaying in my head for some reason???
Oh and I still wear sandals & shorts in the barn in summer. and scary outfits for feeding too!
CutNJump said…
…
Had him tied to the hitchin’ rail one day while grooming and tacking for our ride. For some unknown and WAY TOOOOO INCREDIBLY STUPID reason I walked up behind him (AND thank GAWD off to one side just enough) grabbed him by the dock of his tail (right where it comes out of his body…) and yelled “Tailsies!” That poor gelding had his back feet in front of his front feet and his ass tucked under his chin! I have no idea to this day WHY I did it, but damn it, it was funny at the time!
OMG…tears are rolling down my cheeks! “Tailsies”…that’s too f’ing funny. XD
It’s no surprise to those who know me that I like to get noticed for doing things a little bit differently than everyone else…. my 16h Appy TB is a testament to that… he’s competitive at L1 dressage (soon to be L2) & in 50mi endurance rides (2 top-10 finishes to his name).
While eventing in college I carried a “rude-finger” bat on my XC courses. This embarrassed my roommate (& good friend) to no end!
My confession is that I’d love to ride a GP musical freestyle to techno or DnB… even better if I can do it on my App!
I once rode my mare in bra and underwear so I could pretend to be Lady Godiva.
lilahkat–I have never seen one in person, but as far as I can tell, they tend to look a bit more horse-like. I found this description on the web: “At first glance a hinny seems to be a mule, but on closer inspection the hinny is more subtly like a horse. The hinny’s head and face are often more horselike; the ears are usually shorter and sometimes rounder than a mule’s ears.
The hinny usually has a fuller tail and more horselike limbs and feet than the mule, and its body is more like that of a horse. In temperament, the young hinny favors the donkey, tending to be gentler and less nervous than the young mule. Hinnies are more likely to neigh like a horse than to bray. But, as with all equines, their voices are distinctive to the individual animal.” “Other than size, there are some minor differences that occur frequently between mules and hinnies. The head of a hinny resembles that of a horse, more so than mule heads do. Hinnies often have shorter ears, although they are still longer than those of horses, and more horse-like manes and tails than mules do. They often come in horse colors, as the male parent often determines the color of the coat. Therefore, mules usually have donkey coat colors. Certain traits, like the popular gait that some horses and donkeys possess, seem to pass more readily though the male parent. Therefore, many people have tried to produce gaited hybrids by using gaited male horses on female donkeys in hopes of creating gaited hinnies.”
My bf’s family owns a sale barn and at one of their horse sales, apparently a mini-hinny wnet through. That’s what got me thinking about having one
Robynb said “Secret fantasy: To ride on a color guard or drill team. Considering I have never ridden western, I ride only in a saddleseat or dressage saddle on a very pacy TWH”
It doesn’t always have to be a dream to ride in drill! As a former drill rider, I’ve seen many smaller teams that aren’t incredibly picky about the type of horse you ride, especially if they are non-competitive. Also, there is an incredible team called the Texas Ladies Aside who ride sidesaddle drill on gaited horses. For fun, here’s their website:
http://www.texasladiesaside.com/cms/
I was brushing my gelding(the one in my pic),he was caked with mud so I was using the metal currycomb on him.I was brushing his rump, and I don’t know exacly how it happened but he was swishing his tail and it caught the brush and he clamped it to his butt.So he starts bucking hard,but his tail is so tight on that brush no way its coming out.So finally he stops and just stands there shaking…so I carefully walk around lift up his tail and remove the brush.It was totally bent out of shape(horses have strong tail muscles!) and it had drawn blood on poor Chester.
I once rode my friend’s little Arab mare through a Carl’s Jr. (Hardee’s on the east coast) drive thru. We ordered full meals and sat in the outside seating while the mares grazed nearby. It was a blast!
rin – mine was a black pinto too!!!!! oh man. the memories….the memories…. i remember my dad put green silly putty in lightning’s nose once and said my horse had a cold. he pretends to be a tough guy, but all these years later he still dotes on my pony when he makes the rare visit to the barn. too funny.
On the subject of Hinnies.
Here is a pic of a Zebra Hinny cross.
http://tinyurl.com/2laadd
Some more embarrassing confessions:
I have ridden in the Cherry Blossom Parade in Wash. DC with my leg in a cast up to my hip. Had to rent a costume to cover my leg (Antibellum dress) and had to get on from the back of a truck, but we rode in the parade, 2 months after my accident and 6 months before I was ‘Supposed’ to ride again.
Thank goodness for my wonderful TWH mare who treated my like glass that day. (it was her first real parade)
I have ridden my horses up on porches, up flights of stairs, across floating bridges. have jumped gullies of rocks, picnic tables, and other assorted obsticles. I have ridden up to drive thru windows, parked my horse outside a store while I got sodas, and shared them with her when I came out. Have crossed over passes on major highways to get to beaches to swim the horses. Have come off numerous times galloping across plowed fields where my horse tripped on a hole or something, one time getting run over, cracking my helmet and loosing a piece of cheek skin. Have bogged my horse down in a swamp, not once, not twice, but several times (obviously not learning my lesson) best result a wet saddle home, worst, broke my nose when my horse leaped out onto the bank. Along with another female friend, managed to lift my horse out of the center of a bridge, where she fell through. Have missed a river crossing and ended up swiming a river in Feb, then had an hour dripping freezing ride home. Have completed a 15 mile competitive obsticle trail ride on an 13.2 Icelandic cross with halter and two leads because I forgot a bridle. (got 3rd) I have repaired fences, tack, and boards in a barn with hay string. I once hopped on a strange horse at a sale barn, bareback with only a hay string through his mouth to try him out for a friend.
What’s really bad is a lot of this I still do, LOL!
Cool – then little Garnet is indeed a Hinny.
My mini Garfield (named so because all of my daughter’s mini’s are named for cartoon characters and also because his attitude is very Garfield-ish) adores Garnet. They play continuously.
I’ll have to take a picture and put it in our photo bucket account.
I love red mares.
I always ride in a helmet and always in sneakers.
I like the smell of the smoke from hot fitting a horse.
yvette said…
I’ve seen another Yvette on here – I’m the Canuk – MBRA518
Kay – no you are not the only one wanting a American Cream Draft…. I’ve never even seen one in real life – but I want a team-lol
Yvette, here is the one I’m really in love with, but I also have another friend that raises them but this one, Sugar Cookie, is a doll.
http://tinyurl.com/27kjlx
Human girl- I still have no idea where that came from, why (?) I did it or how I did not get kicked into the middle of next week. Short had every right to. Grins!
To everyone else- I appollogize for any beverage spewing.
In the “Adult TMI” category…
The mare and I had an oops moment this summer, when I discovered I can’t lead her through a narrow gate because my hips are too big. She stumbled, I stumbled and went down hard, and ended up with bruises all up and down the left side of my body, and three really deep scratches on my arm. For some reason, I made sure to wear short-sleeved shirts so everyone could see my war wounds.
Well, my husband and I have this friend who’s into BDSM. He’s a serious top — a scarily kinky guy. You don’t wanna know, trust me. So he saw my scratches and bruises, and says to us, “Wow, I didn’t know you guys were into that stuff.” Um, no. We’re not. I just have a fat ass and it made me fall down.
OTOH, said fat ass is a very good block to keep the good mare standing still while I bridle her. She’s a TB, and gets a bit overenthusiastic and doesn’t understand that no, really, the bridle must be on and fastened before she’s allowed to go. So I just shove my butt into her chest, and she usually is good after that.
While I have played my part in many a embarassing horse story, my favorite happened in junior high.
I liked to eat beet pulp (one of those things you discover when you are stuck at the barn for hours and you are without food). It was the shredded stuff.
I liked it enough that I started to take a bit to school everyday for a snack in between classes (say what you want, but that stuff is filling!)
A teacher caught me, and thought it was pot (though I’m not sure what she thought of me eating it). Needless to say, it was kind of embarassing trying to explain to the principle that I was actually eating horse food.
My girlfriend has threatened to leave the room whenever a horse movie/commercial/show comes on because I will inevitably start to snarl about all the things they’re doing wrong.
Every girl I’ve dated had to pass the horse inspection (I dated one boy, briefly, and he too was forced to go to the barn with me). That means the full monty – let-out if she’s there, chores, catching the horse, tacking up, riding, and let-in. She doesn’t have to know what she’s doing, but dammit, she better understand that they are my first love. And ideally, she should love them too. I’ll be honest – the one I dated the shortest length of time was the one who made fun of me for the horses. Guess where that got her…
>>My particular favorite right now is the song about checking you for ticks. I want to tear my hair out when I hear that! I’m sorry if you love country, but it grates my nerves. < <
I love country music, but that song grates on MY last nerve too! GROSS!
However, his other song “Online” I could listen to all day. So on-target!
OOOH 666 posts – we sure are devils today (and yesterday – this is the longest blog EVER)!!
>>Well, my husband and I have this friend who’s into BDSM. He’s a serious top — a scarily kinky guy. You don’t wanna know, trust me. So he saw my scratches and bruises, and says to us, “Wow, I didn’t know you guys were into that stuff.” Um, no. We’re not. I just have a fat ass and it made me fall down.< <
ROTFLMAO.
I have a story like that! Many years ago, someone pulled me aside after aerobics to have a nice little chat with me because she thought my boyfriend was beating me.
It had never occurred to me that normal girls who don’t play polo don’t have lower legs covered in black-and-blue bruises!
To this day, I don’t know if she believed my explanation.
OK… not a confession but weird:
You know how you often get song tunes stuck in your head? Well I often get words stuck in my head. I’ll be driving along looking out the window (daydreaming of galloping along as you do) or doing the dishes or something and a word will just pop into my head. VERY often it’s horse related. Like “canter!” (you know like how you say it when you’re lunging (in Aus we spell it like this – hate the longe way!). Then for ages afterwards, while I’m thinking/doing others things that same word will just ‘show up’!
Yesterday it was Klu pony (one of the regulars here – what does Klu pony MEAN?). Then today after reading a few post “Grainne Dhu” popped in there! So OK GD WHAT DOES IT MEAN! Maybe if I know it will go away?
Fugly- try Windows Media Player. You can create your own playlists to include (or not) any of the songs available online…
The new Verizon pony ad ROCKS! I love ponies. The should all be round and bouncy with spots! My daughters 16 y/o pony (and our first ‘lifer’) is on the November cover of Tack N Togs, under all that pink. The dog is ours too, but not the child.
I was at a 4H show once, and somebody convinced me to show the 20-something year old arab mare I was leasing in flags. We’d never run flags before, so I decided I’d just take her in at the trot. so… we trotted around the first barrel, I grabbed the flag. we kept trotting, slowed to a walk, got the flag in the second bucket, and we started cantering… and she stopped DEAD about 3 feet before the finish line, and refused to move forward.
a full 90 seconds after starting, we finally ambled across the line.
It was a bad day for flags – only three other people finished the course, and since there was no “lack of forward motion” rule, we took 4th.
here’s the really embarrassing part: I still have the ribbon.
I rode my mom’s milk cow for years because my dad refused to buy us horses. One day I fell off and broke my hip. Our first horse showed up three months later.
Confession:
I hope my kids grow up to be FANTASTIC riders that get to the Olympics in dressage or eventing (or both??) so I can live vicariously thru them!!. (And they can thank me in their media interviews for all the support – you know “I never could have done it except for my Mum…”.)
So actually this is a triple whammy – admitting that I’m a closet ‘show-mum’ AND that I’m too much of a wus to get there myself (don’t mind little jumps but break into a sweat at the THOUGHT of anything over 2′ – who am I kidding 1′ really!!!) AND that I’m too lazy to be bothered with the YEARS of commitment it takes to get a horse to Olympic level dressage (my commitment seems to come in fits and starts!).
Actually, lately, I’ve been fantasizing about becoming a (can’t believe I’m admitting this)’pleasure rider’ only. If my friends only knew!!! LOL and before anyone flames me – I don’t think there’s anything wrong with simply enjoying trail riding only. In fact as I’ve gotten older I really am thinking that the ‘simpler the better’ as far as horses go is the way to go (for me anyway). Less rugs, less stabling, simple feeds, simple tack, simple training methods (legs for GO, reins for STOP). Why do we always make it so complicated?
That leads me to another confession: sorry you guys but I HATE all that BLING BLING that is involved with what I think of as ‘American’ showing – WP, Walkers, saddlebreds etc all of it. I don’t begrudge others loving it – it’s just not my fancy. I also can’t see the appeal of the Friesians or GVs. I even hate long coated dogs/cats (well don’t hate them but don’t want one).
I think I must be very repressed!!!
~~~ ja said…
“Incognitomosquito,
“Vanners” is goofy…they are Gypsy Horses!”
Where I come from a vanner was what you called a big old dumpy horse who was too used up to put in a day of work in the field so it was sold to some guy in the city to pull his junk wagon or delivery truck. If you told a guy he had a real pair of vanners you might get your teeth knocked in. I actually prefer “coloured cob” but when I call them that no one knows what I am talking about.
~~~Enigma said…
“So… does anyone else say “whoa” and “stand” to their dogs??? And then think, duh, it’s the dog!”
The dog, the kid, the cats, the chicken, etc…. if it moves it gets all the same cues as the horses. I’ve even been known to cluck to my husband when he is walking too slow in the store. The other day I told him to walk on and he said, “OK, I draw the line at that one. And if you ever tell me to T-ROT ON we might come to fisticuffs!” Yes, he actually used the word “fisticuffs”!
~~~ ja said…
“Yet another:
I love the Gypsy horses. ~snip~
I hope the prices come down in the U.S.”
They already are if you look for a gelding quality domestic bred colt. They are not selling so well, so if you get to know some breeders many of them can be talked down in price, especially moving into winter. I suspect if something doesn’t change with our feed prices next fall will be even better if you want a weanling or yearling colt. As an example, I know a woman who bought a colt 4 years ago for $20,000. This year she bought his much nicer full brother for $9000 from the same breeder. the bad horse market is effecting just about everyone, even some of the hairy fairy horsie breeders.
~~~Human Girl said…
“My secret horse desire is a fat little Fjord…I love their drafty look and their small size. I have a life-long love affair with drafts, but I don’t think I could get my fat butt all the way up there.”
That is the real reason I like the Gypsy horses. I love drafts, they are my first love. I love feathered drafts. I would sell my soul for a nice Shire. But I’m too old and decrepit to deal with a horse that big. If I could find a reasonably priced Shire that was only 14hh I wouldn’t look twice the Gypsy horses.
~~~ Jadis said…
“Okay – I am SOOOO going to get roasted for this, but I have eaten horse meat and it was actually good. “
I was tricked into eating it as a teen, and it wasn’t bad. Not as good as beef or venison, but not as horrible as I had expected.
~~~Zhenya said…
“2) this is actually my hubby’s, but too funny not to share – i am getting him into horses and last night he announces he wants to get a mare and name it “your mom.”"
I laughed, hard. I play an online game and after several years of sharing my internet time with teenage boys whenever someone asks a question I immediately want to answer either “your mom” or “in my pants”. It has led to some inappropriate giggle fits at inopportune times, I can assure you.
RIN -
What I hear from people a lot is they’re hot and uncomfortable
You’re right on though, when it comes down to it, vegetative or paralyzed or retarded from nervous system damage is NOT exactly my idea of a good, oh hell, rest of anyone’s life!
I’m looking into a job on a western ranch after a lifetime of riding hunter/jumper, and I’ve had to ask if they’d be REALLY offended if I wore a helmet instead of a cowboy hat. Mmm, steep mountainside trails and falling of and breaking self….. mmm……
On the bright side, they like that I’m rather on the saftey conscious side.
FUGLY –
I gotta say, this has been such a fun blog to read and comment on. Thanks for encouraging this!
Oh, and on another note?
Yeah, I’m definitely a Howrse.com fan
I live with a pet dove in a big city where horses aren’t really an option
Helps!
I was riding trail one day, barefoot (I’d had flipflops on) and without stirrups on my fugly pink and white Shirwalkaloosa. Some kids threw ball into a section of chain link fence and he reared, dropped his shoulder and pitched me and took off running. Ran all the way back to the barn and jumped into a paddock with a mare. My friend went after him once I said I was alive and could breathe to get help and make sure he was ok. I’d had a helmet on but still split my scalp open, I walked back to the barn muddy, barefoot, no helmet (I ditched it at the crash site), with blood sheeting from my head; oh you bet I got strange looks from the show queens and their mothers.
Spending my childhood in the city was hard; I spent my youth just dreaming about horses. I always said, if I ever have a horse, I’m gonna ride it where I spent so long suffering from horselessness. That would be downtown Seattle.
The ride through downtown Seattle went much smoother than I thought it would. My friend and I rode our two Arabs to the following places:
Pike Place Market, Myrtle Edwards Park, Seattle Center*, Westlake Mall, Safeco Field, Pioneer Square, Coleman Ferry dock, and my office building on Queen Anne. (That was the most surreal thing, to be at the office with my horse). We used the sidewalks, and the bicycle cops we encountered were cool – they just told us to obey the walk/don’t walk signals. Just about everyone asked us, “Can you do that? Can you ride a horse here?” and I just kept answering, “I guess so!” The merchants at Pike Place Market gave out vegetables to the horses, and we tied the horses outside Zeek’s and had yummy pizza for lunch.
The embarrassing part: I refused to put a poop bag on my horse, claiming that it’s just not dignified. While my friend had one on her gelding, I carried a plastic sack instead, thinking I’d just mimic the dog owners. My gelding chose to poop on 1st Avenue right in front of the strip clubs. That was when I learned the plastic sack method doesn’t work so well with a large amount of wet manure. I got it all over my hands, and I had a large audience. I remember my friend saying, “You look really dignified, Beth!”
I also rode my horse in South Park, the industrial neighborhood I grew up in, because that was where I spent my childhood dreaming of horses. It was a cathartic moment, riding through my old neighborhood.
(*Horses are actually not allowed inside Seattle Center, and we were asked to leave, but they let us go stand by the Space Needle for photos first: ))
my pants split in the crotch one day during a boy scouts visit. i was supposed to be doing a demo for them ;( well, the got their demo, but i say the whole time…. THANK GOD FOR COMFY QUARTER HORSES!!!!!
Fugly Horse of the Day said:
“I have a story like that! Many years ago, someone pulled me aside after aerobics to have a nice little chat with me because she thought my boyfriend was beating me.
It had never occurred to me that normal girls who don’t play polo don’t have lower legs covered in black-and-blue bruises!”
I had completely forgetten my similar experience until I read this!
We were trail riding when my first horse, a spoiled twit ayrab, wouldn’t cross a rivulet of water. I was on foot next to him trying to convince him to move on when he side stepped into me. My sunglasses were smashed into my face and I got a black eye.
I kind of got into it… wore a red and purple dress to match, then green and yellow… but NO ONE MENTIONED THE BLACK EYE, because, of course, they assumed some man hit me. Only a couple of best friends talked about it because they know my husband and know he’s not one of those worthless women beating asshats.
It was an “eye opening” experience as to how the other half lives.
I have seen a lot of comments on here about people losing their nerve to ride after an accident or riding mishap, and I thoroughly understand that.
On December 17, 1999 I was breaking a long yearling under the direction of a trainer. First time outside of the roundpen, pushed her past her frustration point, asked for a back and she reared, fell backward on me, and broke my pelvis in several places. First thought was, “Thank goodness I am through with my Christmas Shopping” on the way down.
Laying flat on my back, heavily morphined over the next six days, thought long and hard about ever climbing back on a horse. Was pretty cautious and timid the next year–but as that mare turned three, put her and another three year old under a show trainer, and worked with her (the trainer) on completing their training and building my confidence over a year’s time. I listened closely to her, followed her lead, and learned more than I could have imagined about riding and working with/training young horses. Long story short, showed that same mare very successfully through her 3rd and 4th year, and put literally thousands of trail miles on her. Not only did I regain my confidence, the mare regained HER confidence as well, and we became a pretty awesome team no matter what we tried. She became an outstanding all round horse–working cows, turnback for our cutters, trail, WP and trail classes, and first ride for our granddaughter–and recently took her career to the Northeast where she is a family horse for a father and his three young daughters, who have their own stools to stand on while they groom her.
If you have lost your confidence, put yourselves in the hands of a competent and compasionate trainer and follow the instructions. If one trainer doesn’t work for you, try another one. I am back breaking and starting young horses, and a better rider than I ever was before. If I can do it at my age, (I will be 66 in the spring) I am sure you can do even better.
As a follow-up to this story, I have to tell you that when I asked my orthopedic surgeon if I would be riding again in January following the accident, he laughed and said, “Not this January. You are going to be on a walker until at least June.” He then followed up with, “I had a patient beat that once, but she was a young woman.” HA!! Well, I was not riding in January, but I WAS in February. Painfully, I will admit, but back in the saddle–and flipping the bird at my oh-so-optomistic doctor.
I decided to ride my horse bareback a bit in the roundpen. I got up on the mounting block, and gracefully threw one leg over as I pushed off.
Unfortunately, the mounting block wasn’t quite level, and as I pushed off, it went out from under me. My horse gave me a look that said, I swear, “I didn’t do it!!”
Fortunately, the roundpen had a new load of cushy sand in it. The bad news was that I landed on top of the one hard item on the ground — a dressage whip.
I walked around for a couple of weeks with a whip mark on my ass.
The following isn’t my own confession, but is a good one: a friend, while — ahem — in her cups decided that she had an upset stomach due to parasites. So she went out to the barn and dewormed herself. (She was fine, but I wouldn’t recommend this.)
In high school I was sitting on my horse bareback with no halter or helmet (ahh, the stupidity you attain at the age of 16). Not only that, but I wasn’t looking where we were going. My horse walked under an apple tree that with a little duck he fit under. I didn’t. The bark scratched up my eye so I went to school the next day looking like I had a black eye.
Carolyn:
Way to go, girl!! Thanks for the encouragement and advice!
One more confession – my friends and I can’t stand most horse movies that come out, mostly because they’re all so fake. We went to watch Flika with my friend’s parents once at the theater, and we cracked up every time the girl fell off… lol, I can fake a fall better then that!
I totally forgot! My horse is in my high school year book (senior year)! We had to do a speech on selling something so I brought my horse to school and “sold†her. Of course the yearbook editor had to get some shots, it was kind of fun and she was such a saint about the whole thing.
FHOTD said: “I have a story like that! Many years ago, someone pulled me aside after aerobics to have a nice little chat with me because she thought my boyfriend was beating me.”
Oh, have I been through this! I’ve had a couple black eye/smashed face accidents – once from an emergency dismount at speed, the other from a mare slamming the side of her face into mine. After the second one, a gal at the coffee shop INSISTED on trying to counsel me, absolutely would NOT believe it was horse-related and not a man. sigh. I actually got pretty annoyed when she wouldn’t back down.
Two incidents, both when I was a kid:
I was at summer camp (not horse camp, but they had horses there) and they were putting each girl on a horse, one at a time, to gauge riding ability before assigning them to a horse. I was one of the few who had ever ridden, and had ridden longer than anyone else there, a fact that I had stupidly boasted about while I waited my turn. Well, you can probably see where this is going. I was the last one on, and that horse was tired and pissed off. In addition, all of the helmets they had were too big for me. So, the second I told that bastard to trot, my helmet slipped down over my eyes. Bastard horse realized that something was wrong, and immediately proceeded to buck me off, right in front of everyone. I never, ever boasted about my riding ability again. Ever.
And the second incident: A friend and I were about to climb through a fence into a pasture. I brilliantly decided to see if the wire was hot first, by… touching it. Yeah, not my brightest moment. So I flicked it lightly with one finger, figuring contact would be broken just by sheer momentum if it was on.
Well, my friend had to pry me off after my hand seized and forced me to clutch the wire. I twitched and walked funny for a full day afterward.
Carolyn, your story is pretty inspiring.
Beth, I think your story is pretty cool – I would love to ride through Seattle
I have ridden my Arab into a bar, turned on the forehand to parallel park my horse (belly up?)and ordered a drink.
I have ridden sheep (as a kid) and cows and a St. Bernard
I am barefoot or in flip-flops all summer, I refuse to wear boots unless I’m in a class. I haven’t been stepped on in 36 years and don’t consider this a confession. In fact, I think more people should do it, maybe they would get motivated to teach their spoiled little darlin’s to not run them over. ;o)
I was riding in a show when my bra fell off…
Another time I was causally riding a young horse I felt very confident on (too confident) and wearing a bikini…so you can tell where this going…Yep, she bucked me off…fortunately NO ONE was in the arena at the boarding stable but me as I struggled to repair the torn string to my bikini top…NEVER did that again…Topless cowgirl…YUH…
Someone way up there mentioned eating without washing their hands after riding.
When I was training in college, sometimes when someone made a fast food run, I wouldn’t even get off to eat. I’d just stick my lil’ container of french fries in the gullet of my saddle and keep on going.
I’ve also had 2 really impressive shiners from my horses (my fault both times). The first time was when I was saddling up an old gelding for a play day after county fair. I had my foot up on the door jamb of the tack room of the trailer buckling a spur on, and the horse started nibbling on my back. I turned quickly to get him to stop, and clocked myself on the door frame. I then went to camp directly after for a few weeks to teach little campers how to ride, and had to deal with answering questions about my purple face.
On the second occasion, I had bent down to look at an owie on my gelding’s coronet. Like a dummy, I didn’t pay attention to where my head was, and when I touched it, he reacted and picked his foot up, kneeing me in the side of the face. However, he was such a sweet boy that although he had a big pile of alfalfa 5 feet in front of him (I was putting him outside for breakfast), he stood like a perfect gentleman while I leaned across his back, waiting for my vision to clear.
I work in a pharmacy, so EVERY stinking customer that came up had to remark on it, too. Yeesh.
wow good idea fhotd…. where to start
I once jumped on a green broke hackney belgian cross (dont ask cause i dont know) bareback. I suffered a concussion but they say i stayed on 8 seconds.
I was riding a twh and decided to race my friends cousin who was on a very short horse. full speed a rabbit jumps and my horse goes left, i fall right. Broken Collar bone. 2 months later when i am allowed to ride again. I get on same horse bareback and my friend says “dont go fallin off again” i laugh until i fall off and land on a tree.
just the other day my horse fell off the sidewalk and landed on me in middle of a busy road.
my first expirience barrel racing was at the county fair. before my class i was just hangin out on my horse. the belgian hackney cross. and a guy jumps on behind me. this horse didnt like double either and bucks as usual. we both fall. an old man who was watching the whole thing says “i bet that hurt” no offer to assist. when my class comes, of course this lovely horse rears up and puts both front hoooves on top of the first barrel. yay!
me and my friend went into the pature to catch horses. we had to go down a big ole hill and up another and finally found them. too lazy to walk back we hop on with lead rope and halter and nothing else. horses take off running. i fall. horse keeps going. i sit up and who do i see? my friend, she fell too.
one time we were camping and it was too hot to ride so we were using the short horse and vaulting to its back over the butt. patient horse. not too patient though. my friend goes to do it again after about 15 times from all of us, she takes off at a run, hoof to the gut. who didnt see that coming?
as stupid kids, we used to go on long trail rides and it was the goal to knock each other off the horses or steal bits of tack while going down the trail. we would ride by and grab the headstall and pull it off. grab a leg out of a stirrup and flip the rider off. uncinch a girth. there were about ten of us ages 10-15. luckily and amazingly no one got hurt from years of this. yay for patient dont give a shit ponies!
my boyfriend buys expensive cologne, but when he goes to the barn with me and rubs on the horses, he smells way better. he laughs at me when we leave the barn and i sniff him cause he smells like a horse.
i have full on conversations with my horses. people think im nuts.
its my dream to own a horse rescue. and plans for this to come true are in the making.
i will ride just about any horse someone throws a saddle on just to see if its broke. about 80% of the time i have been lucky
i used to show TWH’s and my boobs got too big for my jacket in my teens and instead of buying another i would safety pin it shut a little. i would also wear “hooker boots” with big ole heels so i could mount english. and wear extra long pants to cover the heels.
me and my dad were hearding cows in the barn and one wouldnt move. he told me to poke it. i asked to make sure i heard him right. he said yeah poke it. the cow kicked me right in the thigh. i have been kicked by a cow.
i have hung from a saddle horn by the bra. it didnt break. victorias secret much be tough.
me and 2 friends rode a 10 hour trail ride bareback. no problems till the last 10 minutes when one of my friends horses slipped in the mud and she fell off into the creek.
last time i went camping “the youngins” (under 30 yrs old) went on a night ride with 3 sets of saddlebags full of beer and whine coolers. after a couple hours a guy was diggin in the saddle bag for a beer and realized one of the glass bottles broke when he sliced his finger open. so we stop, decided he needed a bandaid and then look around. we’re lost. shit. nothing to do but drop the reins and let the ponies take the drunkards home. the horses did not take the trail. lots of branches. we finally get back to camp and in the flashlight determine that the guy needed stitches. fun stuff.
jessica said…
I am barefoot or in flip-flops all summer, I refuse to wear boots unless I’m in a class. I haven’t been stepped on in 36 years and don’t consider this a confession. In fact, I think more people should do it, maybe they would get motivated to teach their spoiled little darlin’s to not run them over. ;o)
While I haven’t been stepped on in a very long time, when I was a kid I was tromped on a few times and lost a few toenails. I ALWAYS wear closed-toe shoes out to the barn.
Besides….I don’t like stuff squishing between my toes >.<
does anybody else ever watch bronc riders and dream about actually saddle training those horses? God, I bet you could ride them for days without stopping and they’d never break down… Sometimes the ranches that breed them get youngstock with no interest in the life of a bucking horse, so they saddle break and sell them. I SO WANT ONE.
For everyone who has ever hung up their bra on a saddlehorn: The CEO of Victoria’s Secret is Ann Hailey of Copperbeech Morgans. She has a string of gorgeous winning horses I love to watch and hope to beat someday. Keep on hangin’ on and keep her in business so she can thrill us all at nationals every October.
To BETH, congrats on your rides through Seattle. I grew up in Bellevue, used to ride in Bridle Trails Park. Could see the top of the Space Needle across the lake from our house in Medina. You go, girl!
I’ve got another one, inspired by the girl with the flag-racing Arab…
In 4H, we have this race called the Carrot Race. It’s easy. Bolt up on your pony as fast as humanely possible, round a barrel while dismounting (at speed, mind you, which is completely feasible if you have a small enough horse), pick the carrot up off the barrel, and RUN. Your horse follows, and whichever pair gets through the cones fastest wins. It’s fun, but tough for Seniors running in field boots.
Anyway. My pony runs really fast, and turns really tight, and really, really likes food. So I headed into the class quite confident. It was all fine until I rounded the barrel and got off and bolted.
I was three-quarters down the ring (one of the myths of this game is that if you don’t look back your pony will follow… lies) before I checked on Rory. Why did I look back? Because the crowd was HOWLING in laughter.
Rory has not moved. He has in fact gone back to the barrel and is sniffing it because it smells of carrot. I ran back, waved the carrot under his nose, and he began to follow. I took off! Nearly to the end, and I look around to find he’s now eating grass at the edge of the ring… The crowd is now in hysterics. I’m laughing so hard I can barely walk.
In the end, I backed up, holding the carrot an inch from his jaw, and went through the cones like that.
We were in there for THREE MINUTES.
The average time? Between 30 and 45 seconds, dammit. But at least I gave the crowd a laugh.
(PS – he did the same thing for two years, at every show. Then during my last season he started going hell-bent-for-leather and passed me on the way to the cones…)
i forgot one. my dad was barn manager for a really nice horse farm and boarding facility. I was the resident horse rider since the richies didnt ride their own horses. I took the owners really nice dead broke QH on a ride for him. He asked that i use his saddle cause it was custom made for this horse. the horse was an angel on the trail. until we reached the “creek” a 2 inch wide stream of water. the horse jumped it like it was jumping a school bus. I had a saddle horn shaped bruise for 2 weeks on my stomach.
Not entirely horse related, but I was once going to get a horse out of a pasture and was attacked by a fighting cock that got out of his cage. (Stall cleaner guy had a few birds of questionable legality).
The damn rooster ran me down, tripped me up/made me fall, then viciously started pecking and “spurring” my legs and was fluttering up to my face while I lay flat-out on my back in the pasture. I had a halter and lead rope and was trying to whip or smack him but he was totally relentless.
I got up and RAN in a huge arc through the pasture and hid in a horse’s stall for probably half an hour, shaking and scared. People think it’s lame because a rooster is so small compared to a person, but a) I was semi-young (13 or so) and b) the feeling of being fearlessly chased down by ANY animal and not being able to scare it off is terrifying!
The rooster was KFC’d not long afterward because he was supposedly a repeat offender. I don’t even think I ended up catching the horse and riding that day…
* I own an Egyptian Arabian, we ride in Native Costume, and it is a hell of a lot of fun.
* I own a Friesian stallion.
* I own a Gypsy cross – a Drum. Shire x Gypsy.
* I play medieval games in the SCA.
* I would not turn down an Andalusian, a Lusitano, a Percheron, a Shire, a Clydesdale, or a Paso (either Fino or Peruvian). (Dear Husband will not allow it until the Drum filly is paid off
)
THE-FARMER’S-WIFE…..yep it was me! (I said that I was “Bad”)Sorry, but plush animals “humping” just cracks me up!!
Dang, I am still so disapointed that I didn’t get to meet you in OKC. Are you going to the convention? Do you ever show in Colorado? Next year is Circle J’s 50th year!
Marilyn Esteb has a three year old Palamino gelding that makes me drool! My boss would kill me if I bought a “colored” Morgan and wanted to keep it here on the farm!!
I already have a (beautiful)pali Quarab, whos mother was my first horse (a pali QH, so it is a childhood sickness), and I get so much grief when visitors come to the farm! It doesn’t help that her companion is a small pali pony, some visitors think that she is just another one of the broodmares!!
Another secret:
I really, really want a Welsh Cob, but I’m too tall for most of them. Sooooo…I want to get one for my hypothetical, future kids.
Holy smokes this thread is HUGE!! I can’t even begin to get through them all… Here are mine:
Confessions:
-I have owned probably 15 horses over the past 5 years and I have not ridden any of them. (Only two were broke.)
-I am afraid to ride because I weigh probably 100 pounds more than I did the last time I rode (about 8 years ago).
-I currently own 5 horses. 4 of them are too young to ride, and one is a pony, so too small for me. I think I buy young/small horses as an excuse NOT to have to ride. lol
-I have eaten sweet feed, calf-manna, etc
-I LOVE chewing on alf-alfa hay stems
-I have picked up manure with my hands (and I DO bite my nails… ewww!)
-The smegma between a mare’s teats is one of my pet peeves, and I am constantly cleaning it out with my bare fingertips
-I have used my horses products both at home and at shows
-I always have the first few licks of my horses’ salt/mineral blocks, and now my kids lick them too
-I have drank from my horse’s trough
-I have peed in their stalls, arenas, leaning against the truck/trailer, etc
Desires:
-I want to breed/raise/train/buy/sell awesome using ponies (whether they be suited to hunter, jumping, western, or gaming) and sell them at affordable prices so that every kid can have the opportunity to own a horse
Stories:
-When I was about 10, I had to take my horse and my HUGE tack trunk down the road to my friend’s house because she was taking me to a show. I didnt want to carry my trunk, so I rigged a “harness” using a cinch across the chest, a lead rope over the withers, and longe lines going back. I put my HUGE trunk on a wooden pallet, tied the longe lines to it, and had my horse pull the entire thing down the dirt road about 1/2 a milem in a residential neighborhood at 5 in the morning. Hehehe What a good horse he was! I would love to have another like him now!
-The elementary school down the road from where I boarded when I was a kid, put upright poles in the middle of the gate openings because ‘someone’ kept riding their horse on the field and tearing up the grass… Riding at night in the sprinklers was my favorite! hahaha
-I have ridden western since I was like 5, and have NEVER caught my bra on the horn… lol But those stories sure cracked me up!
-At recess, I always pretended I was riding a horse. I never walked or ran. I trotted and cantered.
-My friends and I used to have “Indian races” up and down the lane by the boarding stable. These consisted of us riding bareback and only having a halter and lead rope (single, not tied to make reins).
-I NEVER wore a helmet unless I was jumping.
WOW!!! Its crazy to think of all the stuff I have done and come through it OK. Thanks for sharing!! I have really enjoyed everyone’s stories.
cuillin said…
I hear hinnies are about useless and are the opposite of mules in much more than their breeding…
Lilahkat said…
What is going to sound like a dumb question. How do you tell a mule and a hinny apart?
Actually, you usually can’t tell them apart and if handled/trained properly, hinnies are as useful as mules. Genetically, they are nearly the same. Sometimes the biggest differences in a hinny is that as a baby it takes its cues from its momma, the jennet, where a mule baby learns from the mare, and people tend to handle donkeys and horses differently.
There have been some interesting articles on hinnies in the last couple of months of Mules & More magazine, something along the lines of “My favorite mule is a hinny”.
Oh! Hehehe I almost forgot!
Here in good ole Tucson, AZ there really are not any good places to ride (imo). So, we always rode in the [dry] river bed. Well, we would run up and down the banks. Somehow, someone got the brilliant idea to play tag… Only the object was to knock everyone else off their horse. So, we would run up the side of the bank and then down and straight at another horse. We would do whatever we could to make each other’s horse buck/rear/spook, etc. We would pull headtsalls off, unbuckle cinches, etc. It was great fun, but I am surprised no one ever got seriously injured. Luckily, the deep sand of the river bed made for a VERY soft landing!
In the same river bed, everyone’s favorite thing to do was ride in the water after a heavy rain. A friend of mine and I were riding one such time. I was on my big Paint gelding, and she on her 11hh matching paint pony. I had my cousin on behind me and all of us were bareback. Well, I went to walk my horse into the water, and he absolutely refused. So I, thinking he was being a brat, kicked him to go in. When he jumped in with both front legs, we sank up to his chest… It was quick sand!! Luckily, I reacted quickly. I grabbed my cousin who was behind me, yanked up on my reins, kicked my horse and spun him around. Thankfully, it all happened so quickly that he hadnt started really sucking down into the sand and was able to get himself out.
(A friend of mine sunk a 16hh QH mare up to her belly and it took us about an hour of pulling and smacking and prodding to get her out.)
I LOVE being barefoot and working with the horses. Its too damn hot in AZ to wear boots. I am ALWAYS barefoot or in flip flops, even when I am working with the horses.
- I want a Gypsy Vanner, yes, THE overpriced cob. More specifically, I almost handed over $25K for a “green-broke” imported gelding in Colorado. *gasp* Thankfully, I had some sense, passed him over and ended up with a nice AQHA gelding that is currently earning approaching his Superior in HUS.
- My first horse was a green broke, FUGLY, sorrel solid breeding stock mare who was, as a kicker, IN FOAL… conformationally, I think this mare would be the epitome of terrible, HUGE jug head, short neck, NO hip, terrible legs, and virtually NO redeeming qualities when she moved. She had the foal, and when I finish and post my blog, let’s just say that I was lucky to come out of that situation alive. Years later, she is currently the love and light of a young 4-H’ers life, and is (on my recommendation) not (hopefully) going to be bred in this lifetime.
- Yes, I’ve ridden horses in twisted wire snaffles.
- My biggest secret shame: I have an AQHA show gelding with quite possibly the worst set of feet on a horse possible (16.1 hands, and his feet are the size of TEACUPS) and I almost considering buying his dam, who has produced at least one other horse to my knowledge with those super tiny feet. I stopped myself when I learned to appreciate what monthly farrier/vet bills for upkeep were…
The BDSM and Polo bruises story reminded me,…
I made it to the age of 43 without breaking anything, or really having any serious injuries. Then while riding an 18 hh shire runaway, I broke the 4th metacarple of my right hand. Spiral fracture. Took me 2 days to go to the emergency room. It’s only sprained right?? Well, when my hand swelled to twice it’s normal size and durned dark purple, I thought, mebbe not,…
Everyone was So Interested in my Story!!! I could tell cuz different members of the hospital staff kept asking me to tell them the story.
I figured I was Faaascinating,… until my friend Doe, who’s a nurse, told me that a spiral fracture was the sign of abuse, and they wanted to see if my story stayed consistant,…
A year later, I get launched off a friend’s haflinger (or as I like to say HA! Fling Her!) pony, and break the collar bone.
Sitting in agony, in the ER, and the intake guy looks at my past history, then looks at my very large, very tall, very hairy husband, then asks me, “Are you in an abusive relationship???” Like I’m going to say yes in front of the potential abuser, LOL!
My poor hubby, (he’s my second, the first WAS abusive) was quite offended! There’s no way he would ever fit such a catagory!!!
2 weeks later, I’m off to Gulf Wars (a big time SCA war in Mississippi) and help with the equestrian thing, =-) I even rode a few times. Saved the pain pills for bed time, cuz I didn’t want to be muzzy headed around horses.
Taldara, Grainne was an ancient Celtic goddess of the harvest. More famously, Grainne Ni Maihlle was a captain in the 15th century who led 200 raiders as a pirate captain. She was finally pardoned by Elizabeth I. She’s more commonly known by the anglicized version of her name, Grace O’Malley.
“Dhu” is a variant spelling of the Gaelic word for dark or black, which I feel suits my nature.
I did my fantasies earlier so I’ll do my true confession now (just a few). I’ve done most of the stupid kid stuff including fencing with cattle prods (only I was in my early 20s! LOL).
I once was showing a Shire/TB cross gelding to buyers who had an incredible leap in him. This was long before the fashion to cross draft horses with lighter horses and he was regarded as something of an oddity. He was the result of an oops! on a TB farm with the neighbor’s Shire stallion.
It was winter and I was riding him in the indoor arena, complete with my velvet hunt cap with the elastic string, which no one ever used. This was before the days when the long term effects of concussion were known.
The owner of the stable kept building the oxer higher and wider. We finally quit when my cap was brushing the rafters over the jump. Measured the jump afterwards and it was 5’10″ high by 4’6″ wide. Highest I ever jumped.
With the thank you from that sale, I was finally able to buy the horse of my dreams, who turned out to be my last horse. He was a Morgan/TB cross, dark brown (no dapples but he was beautiful anyway) and 18 years old. He’d done well as a jumper when younger, broken his green, then his owner was in an accident on a different horse and my guy lived as a pasture ornament for five years until she went to college and her family made her sell both horses.
My plan was to re-school him as a hunter and ride him over fences. He had great legs, lots of bone and clean as a whistle. He also had a mouth of iron, which explained why she rode him in a pelham while she was still riding. Even with five years off, his mouth was still nigh unto dead.
It was winter, so first I set out to soften up his mouth. I put him in a soft rubber bar (unjointed) snaffle and concentrated on riding him on the flat, doing circles and serpentines and lateral work to soften him up. One of my greatest thrills, I can still feel it in my hands, was the day his head gradually lowered and I could feel him start to gently chew on the bit.
Come spring and riding outside I moved him up to a hard rubber jointed snaffle. We were still mostly working on the flat with occasional works over low jumps and he was still working very soft and light in my hands.
Until one day when we went out to the outdoor ring and he was snorty from the very beginning. I didn’t connect it to the jumper course that was still set from someone else showing a horse to buyers the previous day. Including a wall set at five feet!
My guy started out schooling strong and just kept getting stronger. The iron mouth was coming back fast and I had no idea what was happening, so I started circling him in one quarter of the ring with the idea of getting him to soften up again.
HA!
We were trotting and he was really bouncy. And stiff. It was like none of the work we’d done that winter had ever happened. I had no idea what was wrong with him and kept working in that quarter ring, trying to get him to settle into a good working trot.
After about three circles, he bounced coming off the rail and took off at a canter aimed directly at the wall. When I realized there was no way I could stop or turn him, I bailed. (BLUSH)
He went over the wall, ran around and did four or five more big fences, then came back to me high snorting and looking as pleased as could be with himself.
Chicken me, I went around and pulled all the big jumps down to normal schooling heights before getting on him again.
The stupidest part of the whole thing was that the Shire/TB that I’d ridden had not much more mouth than my horse and it hadn’t bothered me at all to take him over big jumps. Somehow, when it wasn’t my own idea, it freaked me out and I bailed.
He settled down again after the big jumps were pulled down and went back to schooling like a nice, demure hunter again.
A couple months later, just for fun, we set up a big jumper course and I rode him over it. I could understand why his previous owner lost her nerve because when faced with big jumps, he lost his mind, his manners and any semblence of couth I had managed to instill in him. We went around the course with him resembling a giraffe as he fought me the whole way. The wall was set higher than his ears and I think he pulled my arms out two inches longer going into it.
I thought that jumpers was too much for an old man of 18, so we never did it again. Now I wish I’d gone for it, he loved the big fences so.
We did quite well in handy hunter for a couple years, then I had to stop riding after herniating two disks in my back. I let a friend show him for a couple more years, then he retired for good.
I miss him a lot. After he was retired, I’d go out just to sit in the pasture with him while he grazed. He was a companionable horse, he’d graze for awhile, then come over and whuffle me for awhile, then graze some more.
I’ll never afford a horse again and I sure can’t ride one but I don’t think I’ll ever get over missing it. Even the time I chickened out before the big wall!
GAHHHH – stop the madness, I’m trying to read all these posts and it makes me late for work EVERY day!!! Long-time lurker, have to say I love this site and this topic has me spraying coffee on my monitor way too many times.
My secret shame is that I DON’T have any “when I was a crazy teenager” riding stories, cause I just started riding about 15 years ago (guess that makes me old, too, huh?). I’m also too scared to jump my darling 24yr old horse despite my daughter’s gleeful urging – glad to see I’m not the only one.
And the smell of a horse’s neck is the BEST!
Grainne Dhu, what a fantastic story! I would’ve loved to see your boy racing around the jumps on his own, and then coming back to you to say “See, mom?! See what I can do?!” Sounds like he had a ton of personality!
I thought of an embarrassing tale last night, but was too knackered to bother typing it up at that point.
Many many years ago I earned spare cash by cleaning sheaths. Yes, I’m one of those folks who don’t mind it, in fact I get a good deal of personal satisfaction out of a job well done when you can REALLY see a difference. Polishing nasty old brass and cleaning sheaths are right at the top of my list.
At any rate, I was very careful to select a day when the barn was almost deserted. I took my old draft cross boy to the back corner of the barn, and proceeded to go about my business. This lovely old boy enjoyed his bath time, a lot.
Imagine my surprise and embarrassment when a van pulled in and a load of 14 or 15 girl scouts all piled out of the car and headed across the yard to the house to try and sell cookies… getting a direct view of a fully exposed horse and me with my arm up to my elbow “inside” applying a gentle cleaning agent and working loose the worst of the gunk.
Thank goodness one of the leaders seemed to know something about horses because she said, “No worries, ladies, she is just cleaning up his privates because they get yucky.” She then asked if I could give a demonstration.
“Well, I don’t mind, but are you sure it is appropriate?” I didn’t want to get arrested or anything, hehe. The assistant leader said, “Well, will this count towards their horsemanship badge?”
It was decided that this WOULD count towards their horsemanship badge. So I gave a brief tutorial on sheath cleaning, then took an hour to show them about tack cleaning, stall mucking, feeding, worming and hoof care, as well as basic grooming. I wanted to fill their heads with images other than sheath cleaning before I sent them on their way.
To this day my face gets a tad bit red around the cheeks when I remember the initial look on their faces at the sight of me molesting that horse before they understood what was going on.
First confession – it has taken a few days, but I have read every post on this topic and laughed so hard! I love that so many of us “horsepeople” regardless of how/where we ride have experienced the same thing!
I had the most sane, wonderful QH gelding growing up. And I did some of the most stupidest things off of him – ahh the stupidity of youth. I know that somewhere I had heard you weren’t a “real” cowgirl until you had fallen off 13 times – so I used to keep track!
As dead broke as he was, I’ve never fallen off another horse as many times as I ended up off of him – but never his fault!
The only bone I’ve ever broken was my nose. Riding double behind a guy I had the hots for when I was 18. We were cantering through some trees and I knew my young BS paint gelding we were riding had horrible depth perception. Shadows on the ground looked like huge horse-eating holes to him. I was just getting ready to tell cute guy riding with me to slow him up when the very athletic gelding saw one of those horse-eating holes to the left of a tree, so he went right.
Cute guy and me sail right over his head. I hit the tree face first and do a very acrobatic backflip. He flips head first and hits his back against the tree. Knocked me out and I remember sitting up wondering where the Hell I was, and who this hot guy sitting on the ground with me was?? Then I realize blood is pouring from my nose and I’m sure I looked great! Luckily, cute buy was also a medic and we were able to limp back to the house and patch each other up. I think I impressed him as I ran after the horse who was calmly eating grass and mounted back up to ride him back to the barn with blood streaming down my face because I knew I had to get back on.
Cute guy and I spent a wonderful rest of the summer taking moonlight trail rides – never did that again and it was awesome!
The BS paint gelding was my contesting horse for 4-H. He also tried to drown me once during a fun show. We were doing the apple bobbing race where you had to run your horse down the arena, jump off, bob for an apple in a tub on the ground, re-mount with apple in your mouth and run back across the finish line.
Well, Rascal thought those apples looked might tasty, so I’m on the ground trying to grab an apple with my mouth and he tries to grab one, too, at the same time pushing my head entirely under the water!! We proceeded to repeat this scene several times with the crowd roaring in laughter until I finally got a danged apple and managed to race back home.
Oh – to be young and stupid again! And to bounce like I used to. I’m only 33 now, but I came off my fugly gelding I now own about 2 years ago when he reared suddenly and it took me a couple of days to quit hobbling around!