She Red 'cause she red.

As I loosely grasped the reins, I gave a little suggestion with my heels and up came my horse.  Standing on his hind legs, I took off my hat and used it to wave to the cheering crowd that had gathered for the downtown Christmas Parade.  Well, at least that’s the way it was in Howieland, a little place I like to go in my head sometimes.   The reality was, I was 40 years old and I had never ridden a horse before. Yet, I was standing in front of a round pen in east Charlotte County looking at an animal that I knew very little about.  The picture on Craigslist had really sold me to come look.  It was a picture of 2 young teen girls riding this animal bareback.  Seemed like a good first horse for me.  I was now watching one of them ride her around that pen with no issues. 

“Classy” was in a lot of ways, not what I had envisioned for my first horse. She is a red and white American Paint.  I did not really want a mare, but she seemed to have the right personality.  A little bit of summer itch, but I knew I could help clear that up.  We had been informed that the animal had suffered a couple of years of serious abuse earlier in her life, but she seemed to be doing fine now.  Melissa got on her next and rode her out onto the road.  No issues.  She rode up to me and said: “If you don’t buy this animal, I will,  do you want to ride her?" I said: “Nope, I’ve seen enough, put her in the truck."  (I really did not want to demonstrate my lack of horsemanship in front of all these people.)  I paid the woman the asking price and we headed for home.  I was pretty content with my purchase but that name, that name HAD to go.

I knocked around a few ideas for a new name.  Melissa had already purchased a horse named Blanco (Spanish for white), so I eventually settled on Red.  It makes Melissa crazy to hear it but when people ask me why I chose that name, I say: “She Red ‘cause she red”.  It kept eating at the back of my mind that Red had come at a bargain price.  There had to be a get and it didn’t take me long to find out what it was: Red don’t like men.  It became obvious that the abuse she had suffered earlier had come at the hands of a man, and she had marked all men as bad in her head.

 I struggled through putting a saddle on her a couple of times.  Then the day came for my first ride.  I worked for over an hour tacking her up.   With Melissa’s supervision I tried to climb up.  Just as I was almost up, she swung her butt away from me and I missed.  The second try was better with Melissa holding her still.  Our first ride was probably hilarious to watch.   As soon as I was up, Red walked all the way down the side of our barn, pushing my leg into every stall door, fixture and opening along the way.  The pain was enough to make me scream, but I was not done, no sir.  As soon as she reached the end of the barn, she turned around and came back the other way, this time crushing my right leg all the way down the barn.  That was my first ride with Red, and she had obviously won.

So it went with every session I tried to have with her.  She would throw me down, or absolutely refuse to move for me.  Her favorite trick was to move her butt while I was climbing up.  Over the next year, she broke three of my bones.  I had been bitten, kicked, knocked down and shoved around. On more than one occasion I stomped hobbled through the house claiming I was going to sell that animal to the glue factory.   Then, I quit smoking.  After that, she did warm up a lot.  I assume the former male abuser had been a smoker.  Leaving that smell behind probably made her more comfortable.  I also noticed that she had taken on the alpha role with the other horses.  She was large and in charge and she knew it.  Something else for me to worry about.

I tried everything to get her to respect me.  Food bribes, brushing, I cured her summer itch and showed her in every way I could, that I loved her.  Nothing worked.  At my wits end, I thought I would try something dramatic.  I separated her from the rest of the horses one night and I locked her in the pond pasture, alone, with me.  Horses are herd animals.  They like to be around other horses.  If other horses are not available, they will eventually try to hang out with whatever animal is available.  In this case, that was going to be me. It was a tactic that I had only read about.  I turned my back to her and refused to acknowledge her existence.  I stood there for over 2 hours ignoring my horse.  She would attempt little moves to make eye contact with me but I would just turn away and move.  Just about the time I thought should have been reading about recipes with horse meat in them, it happened.  Red walked up to me and lowered her head.  She made the effort to force me to look her in the eye and put her head on my chest.   I knew what she was saying: “OK, you win."  It was a breakthrough.

After that, Red was a different horse, at least to me.  She showed me how to ride and started putting up with my mistakes.  I took her on numerous rides through the trails in my neighborhood and we had a blast.  Everybody wanted to ride her.  I let a couple of people try, but she really wanted nothing to do with that. It seemed like in her head, it was Howie or nobody.  I was finally on the road to being a Cowboy. (at least in my mind).   But there was one more thing.  I knew I had to do it and Melissa tried several times to talk me out of it.  I was going to take Red downtown and ride in the Punta Gorda Christmas Parade. 

I had never tested Red around so much noise and traffic.  If a horse spooks and bolts, falling off can be a very painful affair.  Not only did Red keep her wits about her that day, she showed exemplary skills in the alpha role by working to calm down the other horses that did spook.  The kids all gushed at her pretty colors and rushed up to pet her all without a single issue.  It was a 5 hour affair to get to the end of the parade route.  It was the longest time I had ever spent in the saddle.  When I climbed down, I realized that her cinch strap (the main strap holding the saddle on the horse) had broke.  Red had to have known it was not tight and she had obviously worked to make sure I did not fall off.  Melissa was there to greet us.   She said: “You know, lesser men would have given up on that animal a long time ago, I am so very proud of you."  It was not the standing ovation I had pictured--it was a thousand times better.  I loaded up Red and headed for home with a smile so big, my teeth almost fell out.

Red still likes to pull that little butt swing maneuver.  It’s her favorite gag I guess.




Update:  After a short battle with what we suspect to be a liver related illness, we had to put Red down on August 21'st, 2016.  Rest in Peace darling- you taught me so much.