Rural Heritage June/July 2025

their forelocks and hold them there. I told “friend” to bring me their halters. “Why these horses ain't hard to catch!” I crowed. “You just have to know how to talk to them.” “Friend” had just set the hook, or at least he had cast the right bait, and I took it and ran with it. Here again I committed another cardinal sin of horse trading. I never looked in their mouths. I told “friend” that I would take them even though I was a little uneasy about the swelling in the right hock of the lead mare, which he assured me she must have only gotten from a bruise on the trailer. We agreed that he would deliver them, and we could work out the details of payment in due time. The mares arrived, and “friend” left with a fine, slick Jersey heifer and six hundred dollars. I'm not sure that he laughed all the way home, but I doubt he could have controlled himself once out of sight. Those mares did look good. I set about settling them in, brushing them down and picking the cockle burs out of their manes and tails. Being as I intended to keep them up on a dry lot away from the other horses until I was more familiar with them, I brought them an arm load of hay, which they barely touched. I didn't think anything of it but figured they were just full of grass from the pasture they had just left. To be continued...

I stepped into the pasture to take a closer look at this pair, and, sure enough, they eased off away from me as I approached. Looking them over and thinking about how fat they looked, I had a hunch these two had been someone’s pets and were likely just a little spoiled. I also noted how they moved off together. This told me they thought of themselves as a pair. They were a team. From that clue I gathered they were broke and likely broke well. The surest way to handle a horse is to let it know that you are in charge and its actions are the result of your wishes. So, acting on this when the horses moved away from me, I stepped in behind at about the distance I would be driving from and said, “Come up there.” Like soldiers these two lined up and stepped out. I followed behind until I noticed they were starting to lean a bit to the right, like they wanted to circle back, so I said, “Come around there, gee,” and they swung around to the right. A few more paces and a call of “Haw,” and they swung to the left. These old girls minded well. Next, I lined them out toward the gate, called on them to again, “Come up,” and walked them to the gate. But just before their noses touched the bars I called “Whoa.” They stopped right there, and, before anyone could think of leaving, I walked matter-of-factly right up between them, running my hands lightly up their backs, over their manes, and then down between their eyes to grasp

Rural Heritage

56