baymule
Sustainability Master
I wrote this story for my neighbor the day her father died. I later entered it in a Tractor Supply contest about senior horses and won 3rd place. Another reason why I love horses so much, sharing the love is priceless.
Shortly after we married, my husband bought a blue-eyed snowy white cremello Quarter Horse gelding named Joes Tuff Bars. He was calm and gentle, but spirited enough to take me for a good ride. When a child or a nervous non-rider was on his back, he slowly plodded along. His gentle nature and beauty made Joe everyones favorite.
Our neighbor, Virgie, and her husband, went to Alabama to get her 89-year-old father, Amos. He bragged around his small town that his daughter was coming to get him and buy him a big white horse for him to ride from Texas to Alabama a real cowboy. I stopped by one afternoon and Virgie confided what her father had said. She said, I would give anything if he could ride a horse. I told her, Ill be back in an hour. Amos can ride Joe. Virgies face lit up with a big smile.
About an hour later, 22-year-old Joe carried me to their house. A recent rain had washed him sparkling white. He glittered in the sunlight like diamonds. While I was gone, Amos had taken a shower, put on cologne, his boots, newest blue jeans, Stetson hat, and a black cowboy shirt with pearl snaps and big red embroidered roses. With help to get mounted, Amos was soon riding tall. Joe showed off his gaits slow and stop. Amos clucked to Joe and kicked the stirrups. Joe took a couple of steps and stopped. Whoopee! Amos was riding!
He chattered up a storm, talking about riding back to Alabama and waving to everyone he knew. When he noticed that Joe stopped, he clucked again, Joe took a few steps and stopped again. Joe was perfectly content to pose for pictures and take a step or two for Amos. A soft breeze was blowing, gently lifting his mane in a white fringe. Joe was a perfect gentleman. I was so proud of him. Amos was having the time of his life, his face almost split in two from the big happy grin he wore.
We were all a bunch of happy goofs, watching an old man on an old white horse on a perfect day. From then on, Amos claimed Joe as his horse. Time passed, and Amos passed away. At his funeral were three pictures placed on his casket: they were of Amos riding on a big white horse waving to all of his friends.
Shortly after we married, my husband bought a blue-eyed snowy white cremello Quarter Horse gelding named Joes Tuff Bars. He was calm and gentle, but spirited enough to take me for a good ride. When a child or a nervous non-rider was on his back, he slowly plodded along. His gentle nature and beauty made Joe everyones favorite.
Our neighbor, Virgie, and her husband, went to Alabama to get her 89-year-old father, Amos. He bragged around his small town that his daughter was coming to get him and buy him a big white horse for him to ride from Texas to Alabama a real cowboy. I stopped by one afternoon and Virgie confided what her father had said. She said, I would give anything if he could ride a horse. I told her, Ill be back in an hour. Amos can ride Joe. Virgies face lit up with a big smile.
About an hour later, 22-year-old Joe carried me to their house. A recent rain had washed him sparkling white. He glittered in the sunlight like diamonds. While I was gone, Amos had taken a shower, put on cologne, his boots, newest blue jeans, Stetson hat, and a black cowboy shirt with pearl snaps and big red embroidered roses. With help to get mounted, Amos was soon riding tall. Joe showed off his gaits slow and stop. Amos clucked to Joe and kicked the stirrups. Joe took a couple of steps and stopped. Whoopee! Amos was riding!
He chattered up a storm, talking about riding back to Alabama and waving to everyone he knew. When he noticed that Joe stopped, he clucked again, Joe took a few steps and stopped again. Joe was perfectly content to pose for pictures and take a step or two for Amos. A soft breeze was blowing, gently lifting his mane in a white fringe. Joe was a perfect gentleman. I was so proud of him. Amos was having the time of his life, his face almost split in two from the big happy grin he wore.
We were all a bunch of happy goofs, watching an old man on an old white horse on a perfect day. From then on, Amos claimed Joe as his horse. Time passed, and Amos passed away. At his funeral were three pictures placed on his casket: they were of Amos riding on a big white horse waving to all of his friends.
When you are off the beaten path like that, horses would be more practical especially if you are off grid. They require no electricty or online manuals 
But I'd have two to keep one another company... 
