Dusty My Runaway Horse
Dusty was my first horse, we got him when he was two and half and I was five. He was a bit too much horse for me in those early years so as I gained my confidence on horses like Pinto, Kaneeta (our pony) and Star, my dad rode Dusty.
Finally around age ten / eleven, I felt I was ready to start riding him again. He was still a handful and still liked to race. Prancing was his walk and walking wasn’t in his vocabulary. One time I was riding with a friend from up the road. Her horse kept coming up beside Dusty and I was fighting to keep him under control. I remember saying, I won’t be able to stop him if your horses pushes past him and before I knew it they were nose to nose. I pulled will all my might but it was too late. Within seconds the two horses were full out gallop down the road and all I could think about was what lie ahead. Up the road about 2 km’s was a cattle guard. On each side of that was barbed wire fencing, all options seemed pretty bleak.
As we neared our gloomy end, all I could do was close my eyes and what happened next was unexpected. I thought Dusty was gone to run right through the wire or worse yet the cattle guard. I guess his instincts kicked in because he went from a full out run to an abrupt stop right in front of the wire fence. I on the other hand continued our journey alone, gracefully gliding through the wire and landing on the other side. I got up with a couple of wire scratches and a ripped shirt, other than that neither of us was hurt. My friend and her horse had lagged behind and once they’d realized the race was over, they slowed to walk, then caught up to us. The ride home was quiet and what I remember afterwards was seeing my grandparents when I got home. My dad said, “Why don’t you run the barrels for Pop?” and I remember saying, maybe tomorrow. J My barrel racing days with Dusty is another story to share for another blogs.