Gramps to the rescue!
Gramps, my Wyoming cowboy Grandpa, has a reputation for rescuing people. He's always the first one there when someone needs help.
Yesterday, Gramps rescued a horse.
Two good samaritans found a loose horse on the road near the ranch. Since they didn't know what to do and they could see the horses in the coral, they brought it to Gramps who happened to be in the barn. The horse had a saddle, but no bridle when they found it, and had a bad cut on its front leg. It was an Arabian, and was foamed up and quivering all over, clearly terrified.
The people who brought him the horse said they thought they knew who it belonged to, and asked Gramps to take it for them, while they tried to contact the owner.
The owner, as it turned out to be, is a world-class endurance rider. She had been riding on a peak about 15 miles away with a group of people when things went wrong. We don't know the exact details, but something awful happened and the horses all bolted, leaving their riders on the mountain... and on foot.
Gramps stayed in the barn with the horse for three hours, by himself, (no one else was home,) waiting for the owner to show up. He said the horse was so terrified, he didn't dare put him in a stall or turn him out. So he just held on to him and told the horse cowboy stories. (Yep, that's three hours of cowboy stories.) At least some of them might have really happened.
Gramps told us that the horse was just beginning to calm down when the owner got there. She was sobbing and said that it had been the worst riding experience she had ever had. Her horse was supposed to compete overseas in two weeks, but we don't know if he'll recover in time.
She told us today that the horse is already much better, and keeps thanking Gramps.
Thank you Gramps. Our cowboy (and English) hats are off to you.
That's one rider's worst ride ever. What's yours?
11 Comments
Reader Comments (11)
My worst ride: The one where I fell & torn my gluteus medius and fainted after I finally got to my feet and before I could walk to my pony who was quietly grazing. She was long gone when I came to. I was in a daze then and called a couple of people on my cell looking for my pony. I don't remember any of the calls--even the one to my husband who was in a leg cast and who still managed to catch my pony when she returned to the barn and put her in her stall. I had only about a mile to hobble but it seemed like forever not knowing if the pony was OK! PS I always wear a hard hat--Doc said it likely saved me that time.