10/12/2026
First ride back yesterday on Shoofly, after the mystery incident with the four strand barbed wire fence three months ago. To this day, I cannot imagine what sent this quiet natured little horse who always, always has his thinking cap on, into such a panic that he'd run through a fence line.
I guess we'll never know.
The last time I rode him, Eddy and I were pulling early take out bulls, and yesterday, first ride back and that is what I was working on; pulling late breed bulls. Poor Shoofly, destined to be my little bull-pulling partner, I guess. He's quick footed, and can cut pretty good without getting stupid on bad ground, so he is kind of perfect for the job. And he's small...maybe nine hundred pounds...so I'm not going to whip out my rope and throw a loop on anything I shouldn't because it pi**ed me off. Nothing worse than throwing a loop on a critter that is far bigger than the horse you are sitting on. Terrible feeling, that is.
Anyway, the bulls were fairly cooperative yesterday. I guess they knew it was time to say goodbye to their swing bag honeys and go hang out at the feedbunk with their buds for the winter. Gathering at the bovine bar, jostling and pushing and chewing their cuds until next spring when it all begins again.
We only had two bulls give us a rough time, and for that pair I had my one-two punch, Ting and Varmint. If the bull went in the bush, I sent Ting in to bring him out. Ole' Ting can push bush like most heelers...it's kind of his super power. He takes this job seriously. He does not like them to get comfortable in there.
Then if they insisted on taking the wrong direction and got ignorant about it, I called on Varmint's particular super power. I try not to use this too often, because Varmint is still a bit of a loose cannon, and not always working for me. Sometimes I think he's working for a higher power that only he is aware of...a dog deity from the beyond.
This super power of his involves lots of hanging off ears and noses and such. Biting foreheads. Ripping ear tags. Pulling the curly hair on top of polls.
It's ugly and it's violent...and it's effective.
He can turn a stampeding, two thousand pound bull like a pro barrel horse turns the cloverleaf. It's a super power that comes in handy...when I can control it. When I can't control it, I do a lot of yelling and galloping around trying to ride down my hell hound.
So thankfully yesterday I didn't have to do much of that, and me and Shoofly quietly walked bulls across the pasture to the gate. Sure they bi***ed and moaned all the way, wrinkling their upper lips and shaking their huge prehistoric looking heads, blowing snot and attitude. A couple of them even pawed at the ground with their front feet, half heartedly threatening us with bodily harm. But Shoofly has his own super power; he is a man of calm certainty, never getting his panties in a bunch, so maybe it was because of this the bulls decided to do it the easy way.
Or perhaps it was the blue dog and the black and white hell hound lying in the grass where I told them to park their asses and stay.
I guess we'll never know.
Have a good day folks. 😊
