Thunder...memory of "rolling thunder" and "shock and awe"
I got a call from Mac one day. He was the caretaker of a girls' camp down the road from my parent's summer place.
I was thirteen.
So, he asked me if I would come down the hill to ride Thunder.
Being a "good neighbor", eager to please my elders, I said sure.
Now Thunder was an angry Shetland pony. He'd been couped up in his little stall all winter. But the "fresh air fund" girls were coming up to spend their two weeks at camp from their homes in Harlem or Bed-Sty, or wherever they came from. They'd be dressing up in "Indian" costumes, toasting their marshmallows around the campfires, and doing the usual stuff...just like every summer.
All Mac wanted was that they have a "gentle" pony to ride.
I sure wish he'd told Thunder about his plan. My guess is that there wasn't one.
So I took the bit that was hanging on the wall of the pony's pathetic shed, and after a while, got it into his mouth.
Thunder wanted nothing to do with the saddle. What a bucker!
MF bucker!
I wasn't giving up on him. I had told Mac I'd try. If I failed, Thunder was headed to the butcher.
I took him out and before he knew what was going on, I was on him, bareback. He didn't like it and let me know.
I pulled on the reins, hoping the neglected leather wouldn't break.
He bucked. He danced. He spun around more times than I can recall.
I wasn't going to let him toss me.
Everytime he thought he had me tired, I just kicked him hard in the spot in front of his hind legs. The message wasn't for me.
It was for Thunder. "Do ya think you've had enough?"
"Are you tired of your nonsense, yet?"
Finally, he got the message that he didn't want to realize.
From that point on, I rode his sorry butt up and down trails all over the mountain, through beaver swamps (quagmire), and under the pines.
At the end of the day, I put him back in his shed. I'm sure he was tired.
I hope he was less tired than me. We both had experienced the "shock and awe" of it all.
The story ends when the girls came. The girls loved him all summer. They brought him clover and rode him everyday. Such a gentleman!
So, the point of this true story is that sometimes it takes some boldness to bring the ornery SOB's to the realization that they ain't gonna win.
Just hang on, and never let 'em buck ya off.
|