Finding Gypsy
After we sold the horse Lady, I was anxious to replace her. I was 14 and I still wanted a horse. There was a farm just a few miles away that the school bus passed every day. There were several horses there and one of them kept catching my eye. I didn't even know if any of the horses were for sale, but I nagged at Dad till he took me over to ask. The one that I'd been watching turned out to be a two year old half broken stallion. They couldn't even catch him that day. We were told to come back the following weekend and they would have him in the barn so we could look at him. I was very surprised that Dad would even consider letting me have this young stallion. (S must be right. I was spoiled.)I'd been reading a book about Gypsies and when I watched this horse from the bus, I'd already named him. He was so full of energy and always on the move. I had no idea that the name would fit him so perfectly.
We took the saddle with us when we went back. Gypsy was waiting in the barn when we got there. He was as curious about me as I was of him. Dad checked him over real well and ran his hands along his back and up and down each leg. Gypsy was interested in all of this and I loved how he kept putting his muzzle against me and giving me little pushes. He let Dad put the saddle on his back and even though we'd been told he was only rough broke, he just seemed nervous. Dad rode him first and Gypsy didn't seem to know what was expected of him, but he was willing. I took my turn and I loved his mustang small size and eagerness. Dad asked me if I was sure and I knew I was already crazy about this animal. Dad told me to take him home. He made the deal while I was already headed home on the back of my new friend. Gypsy was a dark bay with black mane and tail and some white on his legs. I mentioned before that his eyes were different colors and this kept me from showing him in competition. Dad was sure he would be blind in one eye, but that proved wrong. He was beautifully muscled and strong and there wasn't a mean bone in his body. But, he was ornery. He liked to tease. I don't know what else to call it. He seemed to know when you relaxed and weren't paying attention and he would take two or three stiff legged little jumps to shake you up. He always came up to us, but if you had the bridle he would wait till you raised it and then back off a few steps and stay just out of reach. He could keep this up till you were upset and ready to give up. Then he would come to you and let you put on the bridle. I think he wanted the ride as much as we did. I had one coat with big buttons that Gypsy kept biting a big button off of. Then he'd spit it out and I'd pick it up and sew it back on. Then the next chance he got, he'd take the same button off again. Eventually there wasn't enough material left to sew the button back on. That was the only coat or button he ever did it to.
When my friend C.K.F., rode Gypsy he was always a gentleman. But, when another friend, S.S., would get in the saddle, Gypsy would take her to the nearest tree, lean into the tree against her leg and he would go around the tree several times. Once he'd accomplished this, he would let S.S. have her ride. He never did that to anyone else and I never knew why he did it to her. It would sure make her mad, and it was just like Gypsy was laughing at her. We always put the saddle on when company rode.
I decided if I learned to ride bareback, he wouldn't be able to surprise me with his stiff legged little jumps. I'd be able to feel his muscles first. Dad was working on an electric fence in a small corner of a pasture when I made up my mind to learn to ride through each of Gypsy's gaits. Anyone can stay on during a walk. But, a horse doesn't just go from walk to run. They walk, trot, canter and gallop first. These are called the horses gaits. Gypsy had a very rough trot. A trot consists of the horse using diagonal legs with a period when his whole body is off the ground. In other words, his right front leg and left hind leg are off the ground and then he bounces to the left front leg and right hind leg off the ground. This gives you a rocking bouncing movement. When he moves into a canter it's still a rocking movement but, he has three feet on the ground at a time and it's smoother. And each gait allows the horse to go faster. I had no trouble with riding the canter and gallop bareback, if I could get past the trot. With Dad in the pasture working on the fence and ready to give advice, I set out to learn to last past that trot. I don't know how many times I hit the ground that afternoon. Enough to keep my Father greatly amused. What was so funny to Dad was how I always landed. I wish I could have seen how it looked because when I hit the ground I was in front of Gypsy, face to face and he had to stop hard to keep from stepping on me. Every time. How do you sit on a horse and end up on the ground in front of him, nose to nose? I don't think I went over his head, it felt like I was falling off the side, but......... I did it the same way over and over. I think that more then my learning his trot, Gypsy learned to get past the trot and into his canter quicker. Anyway his favorite gait was a dead flat out run. And, it was smooth and glorious. I learned to wrap my hand in his mane till we were through the trot, then I could relax and just enjoy the ride. When Gypsy learned to jump, that was smooth too.
Mom was hanging wash on the line one day when my brother, J was on Gypsy in the field. I was talking to her and we were working on a sheet when Mom caught sight of J. She tensed up and told me she would never get use to one of her kids going that fast while bareback. Gypsy and J were on a dead run and the fence was coming up fast. Mom screamed, but those two took the fence in one smooth move. It was beautiful, but Mom was as white as the sheet we were hanging.
J had his bad fall when Mom and I were in Van Wert because of gall bladder surgery on Grandmom S. We were actually at the hospital when we got a phone call saying J had fallen off Gypsy and cracked his skull on the road. Mom was frantic with her Mother in surgery and J in a hospital two hours away. Granddad said I should stay to help Grandmom when she got home, and Mom should go. So I missed all the drama and don't know very much about it. When Mom came back for me, it was ok again and I didn't hear much about it. J had a lot of stitches in the back of his head, but he was fine. Those stitches left a big scar that was visable through his hair for the rest of his life.
We all had minor falls. I believe that the lessons from our Paratrooper Father when he had us jumping out of the haymow were probably why we weren't hurt worse. Except for J. Remember when I wondered if it was J who had been in the air when Mom screamed? (Learning to Fall posted on Jan. 20) We often teased J because he could get a concussion in a fall off a wagon, when S and I would only have a scrape or bruise. We rolled when J bounced.
S had the fall that made me mad. He had been at the farm where the bus driver and his family lived. You could go to the intersection north of us and then down their road, or you could take a shortcut where the railroad track cut off the corner. S had Gypsy with him and they were doing whatever they did, when S realized he was late getting home for chores. He not only took the shortcut, he ran Gypsy on the railroad track gravel. Remember those tracks were built up higher then the road or surrounding fields. S and Gypsy went down in the gravel and down that hill which was all gravel. When they finally came limping home, all I saw was my Gypsy's legs torn and shredded. I didn't even ask S how he was......I lit into him for hurting my horse. And, when I found out how it happened......I was the one mad as a Jessie. We talked about it on his last visit and it still makes me mad. And, S just laughed at me. Some things never change.
We took the saddle with us when we went back. Gypsy was waiting in the barn when we got there. He was as curious about me as I was of him. Dad checked him over real well and ran his hands along his back and up and down each leg. Gypsy was interested in all of this and I loved how he kept putting his muzzle against me and giving me little pushes. He let Dad put the saddle on his back and even though we'd been told he was only rough broke, he just seemed nervous. Dad rode him first and Gypsy didn't seem to know what was expected of him, but he was willing. I took my turn and I loved his mustang small size and eagerness. Dad asked me if I was sure and I knew I was already crazy about this animal. Dad told me to take him home. He made the deal while I was already headed home on the back of my new friend. Gypsy was a dark bay with black mane and tail and some white on his legs. I mentioned before that his eyes were different colors and this kept me from showing him in competition. Dad was sure he would be blind in one eye, but that proved wrong. He was beautifully muscled and strong and there wasn't a mean bone in his body. But, he was ornery. He liked to tease. I don't know what else to call it. He seemed to know when you relaxed and weren't paying attention and he would take two or three stiff legged little jumps to shake you up. He always came up to us, but if you had the bridle he would wait till you raised it and then back off a few steps and stay just out of reach. He could keep this up till you were upset and ready to give up. Then he would come to you and let you put on the bridle. I think he wanted the ride as much as we did. I had one coat with big buttons that Gypsy kept biting a big button off of. Then he'd spit it out and I'd pick it up and sew it back on. Then the next chance he got, he'd take the same button off again. Eventually there wasn't enough material left to sew the button back on. That was the only coat or button he ever did it to.
When my friend C.K.F., rode Gypsy he was always a gentleman. But, when another friend, S.S., would get in the saddle, Gypsy would take her to the nearest tree, lean into the tree against her leg and he would go around the tree several times. Once he'd accomplished this, he would let S.S. have her ride. He never did that to anyone else and I never knew why he did it to her. It would sure make her mad, and it was just like Gypsy was laughing at her. We always put the saddle on when company rode.
I decided if I learned to ride bareback, he wouldn't be able to surprise me with his stiff legged little jumps. I'd be able to feel his muscles first. Dad was working on an electric fence in a small corner of a pasture when I made up my mind to learn to ride through each of Gypsy's gaits. Anyone can stay on during a walk. But, a horse doesn't just go from walk to run. They walk, trot, canter and gallop first. These are called the horses gaits. Gypsy had a very rough trot. A trot consists of the horse using diagonal legs with a period when his whole body is off the ground. In other words, his right front leg and left hind leg are off the ground and then he bounces to the left front leg and right hind leg off the ground. This gives you a rocking bouncing movement. When he moves into a canter it's still a rocking movement but, he has three feet on the ground at a time and it's smoother. And each gait allows the horse to go faster. I had no trouble with riding the canter and gallop bareback, if I could get past the trot. With Dad in the pasture working on the fence and ready to give advice, I set out to learn to last past that trot. I don't know how many times I hit the ground that afternoon. Enough to keep my Father greatly amused. What was so funny to Dad was how I always landed. I wish I could have seen how it looked because when I hit the ground I was in front of Gypsy, face to face and he had to stop hard to keep from stepping on me. Every time. How do you sit on a horse and end up on the ground in front of him, nose to nose? I don't think I went over his head, it felt like I was falling off the side, but......... I did it the same way over and over. I think that more then my learning his trot, Gypsy learned to get past the trot and into his canter quicker. Anyway his favorite gait was a dead flat out run. And, it was smooth and glorious. I learned to wrap my hand in his mane till we were through the trot, then I could relax and just enjoy the ride. When Gypsy learned to jump, that was smooth too.
Mom was hanging wash on the line one day when my brother, J was on Gypsy in the field. I was talking to her and we were working on a sheet when Mom caught sight of J. She tensed up and told me she would never get use to one of her kids going that fast while bareback. Gypsy and J were on a dead run and the fence was coming up fast. Mom screamed, but those two took the fence in one smooth move. It was beautiful, but Mom was as white as the sheet we were hanging.
J had his bad fall when Mom and I were in Van Wert because of gall bladder surgery on Grandmom S. We were actually at the hospital when we got a phone call saying J had fallen off Gypsy and cracked his skull on the road. Mom was frantic with her Mother in surgery and J in a hospital two hours away. Granddad said I should stay to help Grandmom when she got home, and Mom should go. So I missed all the drama and don't know very much about it. When Mom came back for me, it was ok again and I didn't hear much about it. J had a lot of stitches in the back of his head, but he was fine. Those stitches left a big scar that was visable through his hair for the rest of his life.
We all had minor falls. I believe that the lessons from our Paratrooper Father when he had us jumping out of the haymow were probably why we weren't hurt worse. Except for J. Remember when I wondered if it was J who had been in the air when Mom screamed? (Learning to Fall posted on Jan. 20) We often teased J because he could get a concussion in a fall off a wagon, when S and I would only have a scrape or bruise. We rolled when J bounced.
S had the fall that made me mad. He had been at the farm where the bus driver and his family lived. You could go to the intersection north of us and then down their road, or you could take a shortcut where the railroad track cut off the corner. S had Gypsy with him and they were doing whatever they did, when S realized he was late getting home for chores. He not only took the shortcut, he ran Gypsy on the railroad track gravel. Remember those tracks were built up higher then the road or surrounding fields. S and Gypsy went down in the gravel and down that hill which was all gravel. When they finally came limping home, all I saw was my Gypsy's legs torn and shredded. I didn't even ask S how he was......I lit into him for hurting my horse. And, when I found out how it happened......I was the one mad as a Jessie. We talked about it on his last visit and it still makes me mad. And, S just laughed at me. Some things never change.
posted by LeeAnn | 3:15 PM
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