Some of you may recall, well over a year ago I bought a new horse. About the night I got him, he was a participant in my dream and was pitching a fit. In my dream, I said to him, "Don't cause a ruckus, Rufus." The next day I named him "Rufus".
Rufus is a pretty good horse, and has plenty of speed when needed. For general pasture riding or trailing behind a bunch of cattle, he travels agonizingly slow, and spurs are a necessity to keep his mind from wandering. He is a pretty good horse, but not a very good horse, and if he shines at all, it is in a roping arena.
Our oldest son has a welding shop in town. He remains faithful to his cowboy roots, and likes to keep a horse in his little pasture near town so that he can rope with his friends at least twice a week. He has been keeping Rufus as his rope horse.
Rufus is very hard to catch. He was that way when I got him, and he remains that way. Our son and Rufus respect each other and get along as working partners, but a real adoring comaraderie is shall I say 'lacking'. Confused My son refuses to call Rufus "Rufus" but instead calls the horse "Princess" with just a little bit of tongue-in-cheek derision (contempt, ridicule) Wink . "Princess" responds in kind by always bucking on the first steer. My son is a fairly good bronc rider, but his groin and hamstring have been stretched enough, that he can't grip like he formerly could. He is young, and sometimes it is easier on him to just hit the ground, then get back on and start over. This has been the norm all summer.
One of our son's friends is an excellent horse hand. This young man has a roping horse that is top-of-the-line except that the horse only has one eye. Earlier in the summer, the horse took off after a steer, and because of this lack of depth perception, his rider's leg caught on the side of the chute. It tore a big gash in the cowboy's leg, but being "ten feet tall and bullet-proof", the young man refused to go see a doctor. The leg became badly infected, but still he wouldn't seek medical attention. One evening, this fellow decided to try out Rufus (alias "Princess") to rope a steer. Right out of the gate, Princess piled the poor cowpoke. He lit on the sore leg, breaking open the wound, and getting hurt quite badly with new pains.
The next morning, the fellow decided that with the added complication of the new ailments, that he'd better go see a doctor. The doc took one look at the leg, and put him right in the hospital. He said that another day of the gangrene and blood-poisoning would have required amputating the leg. After three days of hospitalization and antibiotics, it seems likely that the leg will heal. It appears that a ruckus caused by the old roan rascal, Rufus, did turn out to be the kiss of a Princess after all.
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