Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Wild Horses

'Cowboy' is my name and ropin' is my game. Riding old Dusty we searched by day watching for the many wild mustangs. We ride endlessly throughout the day and into the dusk, not finding the trail that we must, herding mustangs that you can't trust.

Contracting cowboys are hard, tough ridin' men working for payday from the Boss for food and fun and life that they trust. Sorrels, paints, chestnuts and black in color we watch quietly for the stampeding of the stud leading his band of mares. Today was a bust for there was not a whinny from one mustang hoss.

Sitting by the fireside and listening to the men, the six of us exchanged tales of all our wanderlust. Hearing the crackling fire and brewing up a stew we anxiously await for our portion of grub. A knicker from 'Old Tango' tied beside my horse alerted us to an uncertain noise as we quietly pointed to Tom to check out the intruder.

As he crept to the horses we uttered not a word, waiting for some of the mustangs from the herd. Tom swung his lasso through the wind as it bent and whistled he dropped it over the head of a young filly. She reared up and pawed the air, kicking and bucking and screaming for the stud. Not one of us could be heard as they wrangled and fought one another with the force of emotions from filly to man to lessen his hold.

Tom let out a low whistle meaning to craw into the horses without a sound. Ducking and cursing the tree limbs that surrounded us, we managed to sneak up to a wonderful sight. There stood Tom hanging on for dear life, his little filly didn't want to be part of his generous life.

A scream throughout the night was heard as the stud came crashing along the trail with the restless mares. No time for laughter, not even a rope, we jumped onto our horses and surrounded the nosey little filly corraling her into the middle.

As luck would have it we had left our gear still on the horses for fear of a stampede into the morning light. A few hours earlier they were looking for the lost baby in the herd. 'Midnight Black' we named the stud because he was massive and looked as mean as a big wild cat. The filly was dragging Tom by now and he was yelling as loud as the mean stud.

We surrounded the filly and caught her with ease as Tom threw his rope right over the stud. Holding onto him with all his might he stayed with Midnight Black for the entire fight. Tom was twisting and turning and writhing in pain as he held onto the rope for as long as he could.

His leather gloves were wearing thin as he walked his hands up the rope to the horses' neck and with a leap he was on Midnight Blacks' back. The stud was raring, bucking and screaming as Tom was fearfully holding on for his life.

Midnight Black had never encountered a man so strong and determined before. He fought with all his might to rid himself of this giant form of a man named 'Cowboy.' Tom struggled to stay astride his best with all of his might. He wrapped his arms around his neck and entwined his gloves in the longest mane that he had ever felt. Midnight Black was wearing out and began to slowly burn out.

Tom regained his strength and smoothly and quietly righted himself on the stud. He spoke soft words of love and the wild Midnight Black began to understand that he liked the wranglin' man on his back. He stopped for a moment and remembered his fright when he gave a buck that threw Tom a full foot into the whistling air. With the wind knocked out of him Tom landed against the stud of his dreams and decided to ride out this circus of and man and equine.

Cowboys were closing in to surround the Midnight Black and back him into the old corral. Tom nodded to move to the side as he laid his head on the stud with a wicked smile. He knew that he had won the fight and that Midnight Black was back with a fight.

They jumped and flew through the air with one last fight to make it fair. Tom rode his prize into the 'Okay Corral' and friends of Tom's closed the gate with a sigh of relief because it was so late.

Tom dismounted and left the rope dangle, softly stroking him with the end of the rope. Midnight Blacks' eyes were blazing but you could tell that he was truly amazing. He pawed the ground and knickered with a laugh. You could tell he was ornery but had a sense of fairness and fondness for the man who had truly fought him back.

Nowadays you can see the stud running the herd with Tom riding bareback, the two of them leading the wild gang into the 'Okay Corral' to be tamed and gentled with loved. Tom had found his mount to be fair and light of flight. Midnight Black worked hard day and night for his food. Trusting Tom he kept his word that he would work for his love and his food understanding the bond between one man and the love he so depended upon.

Many a filly and a colt can be found throughout the land on your farm or with Midnight Blacks' old background. If you find one who is rank and mean, remember Tom and Midnight Blacks' night of dreams as they fought to lead and learned that they could become a wonderful team.

A dream that everyone could own a horse and have some fun with, large ones, mean ones and ones that were fair, Midnight Black remembers he was once there.

Thank him for your horse because he is the Gand Daddy of all men's equine friends. Gentle your horse and treat him with love because Midnight Black is watching from above.

written by: Tamara Lesley

1 comment:

  1. Boy it sure seems nice to finally read something other than my own. You really do make my day. LOL, BDC