When I self -published the children’s book, “Butch the One of a Kind Dog,” this story was included in the blog on the book’s web site. When I started “Loose Strings From The Past,” the Butch blog was incorporated into the new site. This is one of the stories that never made it to the new site. It is actually not about Butch, but about the horses which we had when we lived in Harlingen, Texas.
The Giants
Butch had a short dachshund body. He must have thought giants had entered his world when the horses arrived in the Rio Grande Valley. The larger one was a stout quarter horse named Little Britches. The other was a young Appaloosa mare named Dolly. Butch was suspicious of them and barked at them. He sensed not to get too close. Once he realized they were not paying any attention to him, he quit barking and became comfortable going around the corral and watching them.
Little Britches had not been ridden in about two years. He apparently liked that arrangement. The boys were eager to ride. Ken told them he needed to get the horse used to saddle and rider again before they could ride him. Ken took Little Britches behind the corral to a recently plowed field to work with him. Charles watched from the back yard waiting impatiently. He kept asking, “When can I ride?” It did not take the horse very long to unseat Ken and walk back to the corral. Charles was a little unsettled, but Ken assured him that he was OK. The same thing happened again. The third time Ken was unseated, Charles called out, “That’s OK Dad. I’ll ride some other time.” Fortunately, it ceased to be fun for the horse and he behaved after that.
Our church had a riding group which rode in parades. They also had a stage coach pulled by a team for the younger children to ride in. Ken agreed to participate in the popular Christmas parades. Our pastor liked to ride Little Britches. The first parade was in San Benito. Ken said he knew he was in trouble after he agreed to switch horses with the pastor and ride his horse, Buttermilk. Buttermilk had a tie down. Ken asked why, and he was told that Buttermilk liked to rear up. That was not good. Charles and Cynthia were in the stage coach. The youth group was next. Kevin was with that group riding our gentle old horse, Mister. Ken and the pastor followed in the last position.
All went well until the route went over double railroad tracks. The judge’s stand was along the street there, and the street was lined with observers. The horses walked across the first set of tracks, but both decided they would not cross the second set of tracks. Buttermilk put her head down to pitch, but Ken kept such a tight rein that she could only try. Little Britches tried his best to unseat the preacher, but his shod feet could not get traction on the pavement. The announcer went into “rodeo mode,” and had a field day announcing the action. The crowd loved it and applauded the cowboy’s efforts to control their horses. The stage coach and youth group were already a block away totally unaware of any problem. Luckily, a fellow from the riding group behind them came up and led the horses across the tracks.
The next week they were entered in a larger parade in Harlingen. Ken decided he would ride his own horse. To play it safe, he rode Little Britches along the route early in the week. There was a bridge over a canal. This spooked the horse because of the hollow sound. They eased across, and no dragons came out from under the bridge, so they went over the bridge several times. All went well, but Ken decided two parades was enough.
Some of the neighbors had horses. There were afternoon and Saturday rides. Butch would sometimes follow along. He was more apt to start out and then turn back when he grew tired or bored.