My dad's name was Big Jim, at a variable in my growing up years from 220 pounds to 320 at 5 foot 10, and big boned, this ox of a man was part Herculean strength, genius, and utter weakness and bone headedness.
He always had these plans to manipulate, like he bred our mares to a palomino stud one year, as he loved buckskins.
What he got was two palomino colts, and while my brother and I thought they were ours, he just let it ride that they were his really as he knew I wouldn't have anything to do with a horse not mine.
Spike was what I named mine, and the other was Star, due to a star on it's head.
Star was out of a thoroughbred bronco cross named Coalie as she was jet black and Spike was out of a thoroughbred, shetland, bronco cross name Queenie.
Queenie was the pony I grew up riding as she was as good as gold, while her mother Coalie would kick you if she got the chance, but could they run like the wind.
I still remember that May 22nd morning, in getting up early before school to check on the birth, as mares will drip milk the day before, and have a nack for putting off birth until night for their reasons.
There was my skinny little colt with Queenie laying her ears back, so I kept away, but it was scrawny love at first sight.
I was one with that little stud and as my brother always said, "You always like pissing around with animals" and so I did.
I never abuse an animal in teasing them, and was very pissed when my brother and his friend lifted my horse up, being jerks in thinking animals are play toys.
Bro always has had a problem with no figuring pets are not toys, in he taught his horse to rear up, and it one time pawed me in the forehead making bleed.
I worked on Spike in training quite a bit. It was the following May on Memorial Day that dad tied him to a tree to teach him not to pull and lead.
Our cousin came over and it was an afternoon event, and at the end of it, I was leading my horse back to the pasture.
Spike was my first in learning on things, and I never sacked him out, as that should be done or horses will shy from things.
Several times in our careers as horseman and cow horse he decided something bothered him at a gallop and I was left in the air as he shot sideways.....but I never fell off.
Dad always thought a whip was a good educator and he would try and load horses that way, while I was holding onto a slipping lariat. It was bad business, and later I would just wear a horse down, because they will quit pulling and it works out better that way.
He of course was not around ever in training, which was good, so it was just me, sticking my fingers in that mouth of teeth which he could have bit off my digits.........but being a kid you only think how soft a horse's tongue is.
I would crawl around under him when I got the idiot idea to do that too..........
I worked on with bridle and saddle, to get him used to the squeaks and feels, and finally told Mom that, "I think we should train him", but had no idea, so I slid onto him in the saddle, and Mom just walked in front not holding him, and after that Spike would always follow close like a puppy no matter what.
We did that for awhile in me pulling his head around, Mom wandering off and finally Spike got things figured out, and I got the idea that running him in the corral would be a good step.
So getting him into a trot, and then finally a gallop at the end of the corral, off we went.
I have always been someone who could not stay in a bucking horse's saddle........and Spike flipped his butt up and before I knew it, I lit back down and figured out, "Hey he bucked!"
Fortunately my horse had only one buck in him, and after that it was his choppy little smooth gait I grew to know in my sleep.
My Beloved Uncle castrated our colts which was really traumatic for me, as they tie a horse up, throw them, and have to bind them down.
Uncle then cut the testicles, but left my cords long in Spike, which I later learned in talking with dad, gave Spike that stud whinny and he always had piss and vinegar in him, just from those longer cords.
If I fed him oats, he was right interesting to be on, but we were one and I never had any fear of him.
I had allot of adventures with him starting out the first rides alone to the big slough, and then to the Indian massacre slough. It was scarey not knowing what a new horse would do, if it would bolt or buck, but Spike always got me home safe.
I had to ride hard on cattle and several times he went down on me. Any horse would in the kind of hairpin turns and high speeds you have on muddy and frozen ground.
One Christmas I got to move cattle on frozen ground, Spike went down on me and almost broke my leg, but I got my ass chewed for that, and with an ankle I couldn't walk on, I got to herd cows all day in January type weather.
Got to limp back at school too, as we never went to doctors.......at least dad went and we did not.
The worst of it was I kicked Spike down to a full gallop one day in a lane just to do it, as I never really ever ran a horse hard. He hit a badger hole at speed, and turned sideways, and true to me I rode him into the ground, and all went into slow motion.
My foot was in the stirrup and and plowing ground, with this 1200 pound horse on top of me, and as we slid along, I started thinking about a book I read in school of a bronc buster and an old Mexican whose back was broke when a saddle horn busted his sternum.
I just knew this was coming as that horse was going to roll on me sooner or later, and that was a most interesting event to wait for as I was stuck under this horse.
Well we kept going and when I hit the end of the line, God's Angels just had Spike sort of roll up on me and stop, but the energy snapped my head to the ground and I popped it pretty hard.
Mom was asking if I was ok, and I was not saying much as I was pissed, and checking my shaken horse, who sprained his shoulder.
We slid about 15 foot and I could tell by the furrow we plowed as I found that damn badger hole.
Everyone loved Star though as he was bigger and more dark, and my horse was scorned, even though he was 100 times the horse. He would have done better if I had trained him, but brother saw me riding Spike and started asking Mom how I trained him, and with that he got off his butt and got to work.
I have had times I was broken with my horse in having to push cattle too hard that I ran him into the ground as dad was screaming about things as he always was, but wasn't worth a sh*t as a cowboy. He talked a good game and knew cattle, but he couldn't move cattle like I could in turning them on a dime.......by God's Grace when I punched cattle, I could do it alone, over 100 head, and those animals stayed on the road or trail and went where I said and Spike would turn them to make them behave every time.
I remember moving a bull one time in I lit Spike out after him. You never get close to bulls or cows really as they can turn and will take you. I was about 100 yards behind him lining out hard, as the best thing is to get them moving and moving fast in the right direction or they will change their minds.
Well this bulls name was DeOx, as was big, and I was watching him as Spike was, and I noticed that bastard was watching me, and then he just gave a subtle turn to test me, and Spike responded as quick..........and that was it for the conversation as the bull just ran home.
Teach a critter right away you won't allow anything and they will mind well.
We had another berserk bull dad had gotten and that thing actually would not let the cows move. The old man went berserk, went home and got the shotgun, and after chewing my ass for "Those damn kids shooting up all the shells", he peppered that bulls ass with bird shot at 50 yards.
Damn! That was a great lesson in that bull at least behaved after that. Never would have thought shooting a bull in the ass with bird shot was cowboy work.
Spike actually got West Nile two years before it was officially in America, so something was going on there.........as my neighbors horse caught it last year and had the same symptoms of quivering hindquarters, would get better, looked rough as hell and went down for good.
We put Spike down on a mosquito filled night and I of course cried. It was good to be there at his birth and death, and I dumped him in some trees I had planted as his bones belonged here on the land he was born.
I still have a cutting of his mane and tail on my gunrack. Complete I suppose with horse crap, burrs and dirt.
For over 20 years I had him, and never regretted a day. I would ride him with a lariat after cattle, but never dared opening him up, as he loved chasing cows with a passion. I actually bent bits on his mouth...........as he would pump his head and neck to gain rein as he loved to run like the wind.
I miss that horse and he is the only one I asked God if possible to have him in Heaven so I could ride him again. He was not that smooth, but he was mine in the ways that it mattered. I loved him as much as anyone could love a horse, and from his peeking over the top of a bail at me as he fed in winter or the last time Mom gave him hell when he was out that spring about, "Don't you go down that road" (He went anyway.) , I smile at him as while he was not perfect, he was perfect for me, and from cut legs in icysnow of blizzards to looking bewildered at me as we were on an 80 degree incline and I fell forward off him.....we went through it all together in some sh*t times, but they are all dear to me, because of a horse who once owned me.
agtG
