The grey cowgirl boots are hopefully enjoying their stay in a new, loving home while there is hope that someone is also enjoying the black cowboy hat purchased for the express purpose of helping me look like a bonafide horse person while sitting precariously astride my friend’s horse.
In retrospect, it would have taken more than a hat and boots to achieve any resemblance to an experienced equestrian, but my friends had high hopes and I certainly didn’t want to disappoint them in my first official appearance in a lineup of rodeo flag bearers, pickup men, and other riders with a lifetime of know-how.
The horse upon which I ambled into the arena knew exactly what was expected of him. He moved forward when touched gently. He stopped with only a slight pull on the reins. And despite my “whoas” and “good griefs,” while hanging on for dear life, that blessed horse knew it should gallop when his four-legged colleagues galloped. Thankfully my friend was there at the gate to take control of my steed, while bent double with laughter at my horrified yelps for help.
It should have been clear to me that riding in a grand entry at a rodeo, despite being the chairperson of the organizing committee, was not something I could do without some serious lessons and training. A night-before walk around the arena obviously did not provide me with adequate horsemanship lessons. But how could I disappoint my friends who had helped me pick out those boots and that blessed hat?
While this wasn’t my first “rodeo” so to speak, my previous experiences with horses weren’t any more successful. Growing up in town, we had dogs and cats but no horses but school friends in the country had them. I admired them first from afar, and then from astride a fence, and then on the bare back of an ancient, sway-back horse that easily provided seating space for the three of us, under the watchful eye of my friend’s father. It was heaven, and it indeed was a long way down but in the middle of our threesome, I felt safe and had amazing “stories” to tell back at home.
Many years later I was invited to participate in a wagon train south of the city, riding in the covered wagon and being allowed to drive a bit when the teamster needed a break for a liquid refreshment. Then came the ultimate invitation: “come and ride one of our horses alongside the wagon.”
After being helped aboard and shown how to hold the reins and to relax in the saddle, off I meandered, keeping pace with the wagon, not too close and not too far away. I showed definite aptitude for this way of life until the person in the black half-ton pickup roared by and honked his horn. My horse took off, but I stayed behind, looking up at the sky from my position in the ditch. Another outrider caught my horse but didn’t ask if I’d like to re-mount. Instead I was helped into the wagon to finish my voyage. There were some snickers but I mostly ignored them while trying also to ignore my hurting pride and back.
All of this brings me to the fact that rodeo season is already underway with many rodeos in the CCA circuit planned from now through the summer and fall. The CCA website offers a listing of where those rodeos take place. Some dates to jot down include rodeos in Mankota, Swift Current, Bengough, Weyburn, Elbow and Herbert. Don’t forget the Wood Mountain Stampede on July 11-13, billed as Canada’s oldest continuous rodeo.
And on June 7, Equestrian Canada will celebrate National Horse Day with activities to honour, discover and explore the equestrian community.
I’m sure all the horses with whom I had some interaction have since passed on to their stables in the sky. But I will remember them. If they remember me it will be with much horse-laughter and pawing of the ground. They knew that a hat and boots did not a horse person make. Happy nickers to them all.
Joyce Walter can be reached at [email protected]
