Hey folks my Dad has flown back to the “cold tundra” as he calls it  of Wisconsin and I am trying to catch up on emails for the last few days. I was a bit lax as I was trying to spend as much time with him as possible. If you feel like I have missed you. Please feel free to email me. Or I will keep working away at my stack of emails to respond to.

Thank you to everyone for your patience. Especially during this time of the year when we get to spend so much time busy with family and tradition.

Enjoy!

Chris

I need to journal some of our history so when I print my blog off I have some stories included of our Mr. Cool…. So todays post is mostly about that…  Hope you don’t mind as I reminisce.

Sometimes we have to let go even if we don’t want to. There is still this empty spot where a puzzle piece of our life fit and now that spot is empty. That as time goes on your pieces may shift some to form a new puzzle piece, but nothing ever quite feels like it fits in that spot. I feel this for my grandfather Gramps and my husband’s Bedstemore. Nothing else quite fits that spot that still burns a little when my brain lets me think about it. I know that our Mr. Cool will burn with me for a long time. Although at the end he was cantankerous and just miserable because of his pain. Wow. We had some fantastic times.

When I first met my husband we spent much time team penning and at the boarding stable. Mr. Cool was an awesome team pen horse. My husband and his two friends originally held the fast time for the arena. Another time I waited with pure anxiousness because my hubbies reins broke and he slipped his hand up the horses neck and rode reinless at breakneck speed to “get the pen” and they did. And pride in his horse had my husband beaming from ear to ear.  I spent much time arena side, watching my hubby working him and riding him. My husband had quite a few offers for him when he was in his prime, but never would take a one. He moved here to our place with us from the boarding stable. He was the only horse here for a time. So we had to borrow a few here and there to keep him company. This isn’t a problem now as our stalls have filled, but first living out here they weren’t.

He was a Houdini of horses. You could put him in a stall with a clasp double chain and twist it and he would let himself out. Many times he would let all the rest of the horses out as well into the arena in the middle of the night. And usually he would leave the “young buck” of the crowd in his stall to wait while he played with all the mares. One night he go out with my paint horse “the young buck” and decided to roam the whole property. We spent some time that night at 2 a.m. getting him to come. I stood in front of the boat propeller is sheer stress that he would came at it and carve his chest open as they ran around the yard full blast. Finally common sense rang true that someone had some food and it sounded better than being a “young buck again”.

My husband’s first horse, Mr. Cool, taught him to ride. He was ever forgiving and ever pushing if he felt he could get away with it. All at the same time. Our nieces could ride around on his back and kick and kick and kick and he would just walk around and not give a hint to run. He seemed to know who couldn’t run and who could.

Once when I fed him when the hubby was away at the stable we boarded at, he snagged my keys from my pocket and jangled them in his teeth with his lip in the air. Then turned his butt to me and shook them up and down and up and down. Another time I showed up in tank top cut low in the back and he snagged my bra with his lip and snapped it. I figured the tag must have been sticking up to catch his eye. My husband, then boyfriend, was quite proud when he heard that story from his sputtering girlfriend, now his wife, as she told him the stories.

Once he decided he didn’t want to take me for a ride. So he calmly layed down in the wash and waited for me to get off and then stood up. Paused for a moment.. and then bolted for home. I screamed COOOOOLLL out into the desert. And he stopped for a moment. Turned around and came back with his head hung low. And I walked all the way home (because of course I couldn’t find a rock for my short legs to get me back up on him.)  I walked home ranting and raving, spitting sand and sand in my pants and handed the reins to my husband in the arena with a smirk on his face and walked in the house to take a shower. Both seemed to have a smirk on their face as I went to the house. I am sure my hubby and his horse shared some very good secret conversation that day

I know at a time in my best friends life he spent much time confiding in his first horse. Life is filled with stray bumpy paths  at time and the saying goes there is nothing like the outside of a horse for the inside of a man. Well in this case, I think it was very true. He listened well for my hubby. Never talked back and kept those secrets. Having Mr. Cool layed the groundwork for friendships at the boarding stable that my husband still has and are some of our best friends now over 10 years later.  Really Mr. Cool was our blessing and still is our heart’s blessing.

My son rode him around every once in a while. Many of our friends took their first ride on him.  We have friends wives who comment they would have a horse if it was Mr. Cool. All in all. He was wonderful.  But in the end he just hurt to much and spent the last few years living, eating, and soaking up the sun.

So here is to all those fantastic memories and soaking up the sun.

Sunny Days or Gloomy Days… still, I can’t help, but Love my Life.

Enjoy!

Chris