All butts are off

We always had animals on the place, but only once a horse. When I was about 11 my cousin, Lee McDougall, somehow came into ownership of a registered quarterhorse. Not sure what Smokey's background was - possibly an over the hill racer - but he was a real good looking critter.

Lee brought him over here for a stay in our pasture and of course we all had our chance to ride. Lee could handle Smokey pretty well and after he tired him a bit so could the rest of us. When the horse was fresh, though, he'd only consent to be walked to the far end of the field and then would turn and race back to the fence by the house, making as many quick stops as necessary ( read: one) to get rid of whoever was up there.

I was pretty persistent and tried almost every day for a considerable time before I gave up. Bucked off without fail, sometimes at a pretty high rate of speed and/or into cowpies and horse apples. It seems surprising, now when I think of it, that I was never really hurt. Took some pretty serious falls. Smokey was with us only for a few months, but he taught me early on how to lose with the horses.