You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink and the silly fool just stands there snorting away dropping snot into the trough. That damn horse is the stupidest animal on the ranch.
Daddy gave Taffy to me on my seventh birthday, complete with a new saddle and a bright red saddle blanket. I could tell from the first time I got on him that he didn’t have a brain in his head. In my shiny new cowboy boots I gave Taffy a giddy up kick and he just stood there like some nougat covered statue. Daddy whomped him good on the rear end and Taffy took off like a lightening bolt with me hanging on for dear life. I wasn’t expecting that old nag to gallop with such power as he jumped over ditches, flying through the air, and landing with such force that I nearly bit my tonsils. Somehow I manage to hang on for the wildest ride of my life til’ he finally wore himself out and slowed to a walk.
Daddy came barreling along in his Jeep thinking he would find me in a pile of legs and bones having the shit knocked out of me. He was so surprised to see me still a sittin’ on that steed. I could tell he was mighty proud of me, just a whip of a seven-year-old girl, my pigtails unraveled, sweat pouring down my cheeks and breathing like a dragon after a battle.
“Why I didn’t think that old nag had it in him, “ Daddy said laughing. “He never so much ever did more than a loopy trot before. You’ve got yourself a one hell of a horse, sister.”
He may be one hell of a horse, but old Taffy never so much as ever broke into a gallop ever again. He just plugs along like a saddle weary packhorse. He is just a hay burner and pooper, and if he has it in him he just ambles up to the water trough and stands there admiring his reflection and never drinks a drop. At least never when I am lookin’ at him.