By Herb Moore
Special to the Chronicle
When you work with horses and dogs you get to imagine them talking to each other as we do.
At the time I was working part time for a resort teaching riding, taking out trail rides, wagon rides, stagecoach rides and sleigh rides in the winter. So you see where this comes from.
Mike and Charlie stood side by side tied to the hitching rail, waiting for the morning group of guests.
They were part of the dude string that spent each day of the summer packing riders along the many trails and across the rangeland of Happy Trails Guest Ranch.
It was a brief time of rest before the ranch bus unloaded a mixture of riders – young, real young, middle aged, old, fat, thin, male and female. For many it would be their first time on a horse.
Charlie looked over at Mike, and talking out of the corner of his mouth said. “What do you reckon we’ll be stuck with today? My back’s still sore from that lump of a guy bouncing up and down for two hours yesterday. I just hope he’s sorer than I am.”
“Been there Charlie, today it’s my mouth, that woman on me yesterday thought the reins were there to hold her in the saddle. She was pulling back on them which means stop and her heels were playing a tattoo on my ribs which means go. Boy, I wanted to hump my back and launch her into the middle of next week.”
“Oh! Oh! Mike, here’s the bus. Oh jeez look at the new hats. The gift shop keeps selling those cheap straw cowboy hats. We’ll be stopping lots today while the wranglers are getting down retrieving the damn things. Don’t they realize these cowboy wannabes need both hands to hang on with and they’d need a third one to hold on to their hats.”
“Hey Charlie, get a look at the tall blonde Barbie, oh those jeans gotta be painted on. I hope I get her; I’d love to have those legs wrapped around me.”
“I just hope I’m not behind you this morning, Mike.”
“Remember yesterday afternoon; we were climbing that hill up from the lake and I was behind you, and this woman was sitting on me? Well, about half way up the hill you lifted your tail and let one go, and you should have heard her, ‘Oh, that’s so gross, that’s so disgusting. Can’t they train them not to do that in public?’ She went on like that all the way back. I gotta say, Mike, I don’t know what you’d been eating but it kinda made my eyes water.”
“Ha, my lucky day Charlie, I get the Barbie and you’re stuck with her guy and he’s wearing one of those stupid hats, and listen to him, he’s telling her how to ride. I bet the last horse he was on was a Shetland pony in the park.”
“You’re right, Mike, he’s stiff as a board hanging on for dear life and I’m still tied to the hitching rail. Okay, here we go, oh yeah, one of those, his hands are saying whoa but his feet are saying go. I’m really getting fed up with this dude string life, I think I’ll stop being nice and they’ll only let the wranglers ride me. Yes, this guy is really ticking me off. You stay behind me, when we get to that swampy part along the lake I’ll pretend to stumble and dump him off; it’ll be a soft landing so don’t step on the twit.”
Have you ever heard a horse laugh?
(Herb Moore is a local senior who loves to write and tell stories.)