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Granny's New Ride
by Cinda Muench
The horse I'd had for twenty some odd years had served well, and done a great job,
but it was time now for me to get a new mount, and it couldn't be any old cobb!
No, I was getting up some in age, and I needed a ride who was steady,
one that I could just jump on and go, and he'd always be willing and ready!
I knew the right equine would be hard to find, so I researched and studied and pondered,
and thought about the qualities my mount would need, so I could ride till I reached a hundred.
First off, my mount couldn't be tall, cause getting on would be quite an ordeal,
and the cowboys we ride with, love to poke fun, so he'd also have to be able to kneel!
Also, I wanted a steed who'd grow old! I wanted him to live to be fifty!
I didn't want to train one ever again... and, since I was dreaming, I added... he'd be thrifty.
Yep, cheap to buy, and cheap to feed, he'd be smart, and loving, and kind,
no shoes to replace, he'd be obedient, and of course, he'd be beautifully refined!
I'd teach him to pick things up for me, in case my back ever starts giving me pain,
he could retrieve the brush that I drop, or the blanket or bridle or reins.
...and if I'm riding out in the pasture one day and we stumble across nasty old trash,
I could just say, “Pick it up, my friend!” and he'd hand to me in a flash!
I smiled as I imagined the delight I'd see, in my precious grandkid's eyes,
if I taught my new mount how to smile and kiss! Yes, this equine would be a fine prize!
Gas prices were soaring higher each day, so I decided he'd also pull a cart,
he could take me where I needed to go! He'd be a masterpiece straight from my heart!
After months and months of research and thought, I finally found the right breed,
but I wanted to make sure he was trained from birth, so he could do each of the things I would need!
So we bought his dam and he was born on the ranch, he was a beautiful, leggy young guy!
Now I had to figure the perfect name, cause he'd be with me till the day that I'd die!
What to name, what to name, what to name, this fine beast, who'd take good care of me as I grow old?
I'd love him and care for him and treat him just right, like a son, in Spanish, the word is Mi Hijo!!!
So I had everything, but I still had to wait till he grew and was old enough to ride.
so I trained him to do each thing on my list, while I patiently waited with pride.
Now, everyone in my family can train a horse well, ALL are trainers supreme,
since blood runs thick, it makes perfect sense that I'd a horse training queen.
No, it wouldn't do for me to get any help, I needed to train him to the saddle,
and that fine day finally came last fall, when I climbed aboard all astraddle!
We were riding to find some lost baby goats, I was excited, but also uptight,
but it was Mi Hijo, my son, he wouldn't hurt me! I guess was three quarters right!
We were riding along and having great fun, when suddenly he downed his head,
next thing I knew everything had gone blue and I was wondering what cues I'd misread!
My husband ran fast to come to my aid, and I said, “I guess Mi Hijo's a little bit bronc-y!”
“Well, honey,” he said, “what'd you expect – when your fine steed is knock-kneed donkey?
