The Box
Part Three: The Saga of Sis
Prelude
When last we saw them, our heroes had just slain the dastardly Horsefly from Hades to the delight and applause of the ranch’s Germanic guests. Then, to their great dismay and fear, they were abandoned to whatever cruel fate awaited them by the veterinarian but discovered that there was a way to regain their courage and honor.
You can catch up by following the link
And now, the conclusion:
Things change quickly in the mountains. By the end of the week at the dude ranch, the creek had settled down enough for us to drive across the ford. That was good news for several reasons. Shoeing in the barn would get us out of the sun. Horse flies don’t like to go into barns. Sure, they will buzz in occasionally but nothing like people and horses endured out in the open. Finally, being close to the corral cut down on the commute from the corral for our wranglers and kept the horses dry. Loading The Box up on the trailer took no time with all of the crew helping.
“You boys want a ride?” Larry asked with a twinkle in his eye. The wranglers jumped on board the trailer. After all, we all know cowboys hate walking. With a hoot and a holler, we all headed for the ford.
The two track road paralleled the creek for a short ways and then took a sharp right hand turn towards the water. The first ten feet or so went steeply downhill ending at the water’s edge. I had never driven across a stream in my life and said so.
“I figured as much you being from back east.” said Larry “There’s nothing to it. You just need to miss the big rocks.” We eased into the water and started across.
I cant swear to it but I think Larry knew that the water, while lower than it was earlier in the week , was still high enough to make it interesting for the guys on the trailer. There were howls of protest from behind us. Larry looked in his rearview mirror and grinned. I turned to see what the noise was all about. Sure enough, the boys had scrambled up onto the cross braces and were hanging on for dear life.
“Technically speaking, this ford seems to have been washed out some.” Larry said while peering through the windshield. “Whoops.”
Our right-hand front tire had run up on a boulder and we were suddenly at a steep angle to the creek’s surface.
“See what I mean?” Larry asked.” That wasn’t there last year.”
He put it in reverse to get off the rock but backing up caused the trailer to start to bounce downstream. The trailer pivoted on the hitch and began to take on a 90-degree angle to the truck. The howls of protest from behind us took on a different tenor. They were more like screams of terror.
Unbeknownst to us, some of the guys didn’t know how to swim. At least that’s what I thought they were yelling. The water rushing by was really loud and adding the revving of the engine made it hard to hear. To his credit, Larry took it all in stride while he calmly maneuvered the truck forward again towards the opposite shore.
That’s a lie. He was laughing his head off at the wranglers and to be honest, so was I. It was then I noticed water was starting to seep in under my door.
“Laaarrrryyy.” I said with some trepidation. “Are we going to need to bail out the cab?”
He looked down at the wet floor.
“Yeah, it does that sometimes. No worries. We are almost there.”
With a few spins of the tires slipping on rocks and hopeless cries of anguish from the guys riding the bouncing trailer, we reached the opposite shore safe and sound.
“What did I tell you?” Larry pointed out. “We made it. Going back tonight will be easy because we will leave the trailer here until we’re done. This ford really isn’t designed to haul a trailer across especially going back.”
“What do you mean?’
“Oh, you’ll see.”
We swung around to be near the barn entrance, and we got out to good natured accusations by the wranglers.
“You did that on purpose!” One said.
“I don’t know what you mean!” Larry said with an amused sidelong glance at me. “Lets get set up and catch a couple horses.”
By now we were a darn good team. The wranglers didn’t need to be told what to do anymore and I was keeping up with Larry. That wasn’t easy to do. The nice thing about shoeing together every day was that I began to pick up some techniques from Larry that made me more efficient. Besides all that, the man could flat work despite the heat, dust and flies.
It was inspiring frankly, but we also were having fun. We teased the wranglers. Told stories about hunting and fishing, and of course horses we had known. I found out that Larry had been a horse logger, meaning he used a team of horses to drag saw logs out of the woods. He found out I did musical theatre. It’s hard to describe but we were different people yet very much the same.
While taking a water break, Larry said we would probably be done the next day. By his count we would have four left to do including Sis, the big white mare I mentioned in Part One. I had forgotten about Sis but after all The Box horses we had done not to mention the marginal ones, how bad could this be?
“I was thinking.” Larry said, “I think we should give Sis the chance to be shod like a normal horse. “
“Ok. I’ve heard all the stories, so why give her a chance?”
Larry took a long drink and sighed.
“Well, for two reasons, the sight of The Box gets her on the fight immediately. Maybe she will be a little more cooperative if she understands she doesn’t have to go in there anymore. She may be stubborn and ornery but also she is very smart. Besides, last year I pulled and trimmed her outside The Box and it went ok.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just that you are a Horse Whisperer?” I teased.
Larry laughed.
“The second reason is that the boss is coming down here to hold Sis. She says the horse will be fine with her.”
“Ever done it that way before?”
“No. And yes, that worries me some.”
I was taking a breather later in the day and watched a wrangler, whose name was Nate, (he is the tall drink of water in the photo with the floppy hat) catching a horse. I admired his style. Slow and steady, no eye contact, move up to the mare’s neck and stand for a minute without touching her. Just being respectful. He was talking to her but I couldn’t hear him well enough to understand what he was saying, but she was sure listening to him. All the other horses, and there were a lot of them, were slowly milling about raising a little dust. Much different vibe than when we first started days ago when they galloped about trying to get away from the wranglers.
Larry walked up and stood with me.
“He sure is a hand, isn’t he?” Larry said.
“Yes sir, he is.” I replied.
Larry turned back to his anvil and began shaping a shoe. I turned to do the same when something caught my eye. A white horse was moving through the herd, head down. I wouldn’t have noticed except for how the other horses acted. They got out of the white horse’s way in a hurry like the parting of the Red Sea. The white horse was heading straight for the wrangler who had his back turned to her.
“That’s Sis!” I heard Larry say . “Hey Nate!” Larry yelled.
Nate turned. He hadn’t seen the mare bearing down on him and was turning to see what was wrong.
I yelled, “Watch out!” But didn’t say the word “OUT” before “WHAM” that mare spun and let him have it with both hind feet right in the solar plexus. Nate went flying backwards into the corral walls with an agonized whoosh of air coming out of him.
The herd moved far away from the stricken cowboy except for the mare he was trying to catch. She seemed concerned about him and was sniffing at him. Sis had faded back into the herd.
We ran over to Nate and pushed and prodded, checking him out as best we could. Didn’t seem like he broke any ribs. He was lucky we hadn’t put any shoes on her. She might have killed him. I pulled up his shirt to check for blood and he was already turning back and blue.
“I think I’m OK.” Nate whispered as he tried to sit up.
“Lets get him into the shade and out of the corral. “ Larry suggested.
We stood him up and got his arms around our necks and half carried him to the trees and shade.
As his friends tended to him, I turned to Larry.
“She hunted him down. I’ve never seen a horse do that.”
“Yup. She is serious as a heart attack.” Larry was looking at Nate and it was obvious he was worried about him. Without looking at me he said, “Since you are going to be working out here you need to remember something. Never let yourself get the reputation for being able to shoe bad horses. You know why?” He turned to look me in the eye. “Because bad horses will be the only ones you get. The day will come when one of them will hurt you, maybe bad. None of the people who brought you the bad horses will worry themselves about you one bit. They’ll just get some other idiot to do their work.”
“Like a guy with stocks?”
“For a guy from back east you’re pretty smart.”
Nate got to his feet and shook off the helping hands of the other wranglers.
“I’m fine.” He said. He looked at Larry and I. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?” I asked.” You took a hell of a shot.”
“Hey.” said another wrangler. “Your back is bleeding.”
“Oh dang it. I just bought this shirt.” Nate said looking over his shoulder trying to see the damage.
He turned around and there was blood seeping through his brush popper shirt.
We looked underneath his shirt and it seemed to us he got gouged by a nail on the corral fence. We talked him into going to see the boss in case he needed a tetanus shot or something.
As we watched Nate slowly walk towards the footbridge to head up to the office it occurred to me that maybe $45.00 a head and lunch wasn’t such a good deal after all.
I was now officially tired and worn out. I knew Larry was too, but we would never admit it. Not even to each other. We had just a few more to do today and four more tomorrow and we were done. I needed to take a few days off.
Larry told me about the Forest Service campground farther up in the mountains you could get to through a gate at the dude ranch. He said it was a nice picnic spot and you could even spot mountain goats on the cliff faces while you were cooking hot dogs and hamburgers. Kerry and the boys would like that.
Our last day was pretty smooth. I admit I did have Sis in the back of my mind and just couldn’t get over it. I’ve met plenty of bad horses in my career but not one like this. As we finished the next to last one, in walked the boss with Sis. Technically the boss was actually her mother but this gal ran the day to day operations. She was a decent enough person but did have a superiority thing in her personality that I found off-putting. I’ve met a bunch of people like that in the horse world but since I didn’t have much to do with her I could ignore it.
She took her place holding the horse. Things were quite calm and the boss had an “I told you so” attitude about it.
Now here is a little secret about horses, just between us. Many of them know which side their bread is buttered on. They can act like rabid, alien killing machines around everyone else but the one who matters—the one who calls the shots? The one who feeds them and spoils them? Why they turn into a love muffin. I have watched a little girl’s pony practically flip itself over in the cross ties because I dared to touch it, yet fall asleep while the little girl owner stands next to it with no lead rope or cross ties to restrain it while I work.
“He doesn’t like men.” Is the usual excuse. That’s fine. I don’t care who they like as long as the animal stands still for me. I swear, when I finish an animal like that and the one who matters is leading them away, the horse laughs at me every time or at least passes gas in my direction. Ok, back to the story.
So, the boss was holding Sis. Larry and I decided he would trim and nail. I would forge the shoes and would clinch. Sis was certainly standing well but her eyes were hard. That’s a difficult concept to explain. A horse can have a soft eye which means it’s calm, in a good mood, and maybe even likes you. A soft eye is usually fully open but not so the whites show. A soft eye shows up in their body language as well. Calm, confident and relaxed.
A hard eye is usually framed by narrowed eyelids. Ears maybe set back or sideways. Body language is tense, ready for fight or flight.
Horses communicate to each other with eyes and body language. I eventually learned how to manipulate horses in a corral using the same technique. The horses are better at it but I could fool some of the dumber ones!
Sis may have been standing well but she resisted everything we did. Horses are so much stronger than people that even little things like picking up a firmly planted foot can be almost impossible and exhausting. Sis liked to lean. Say a horse weighed 1000 lbs. You have her foot in your lap and she leans all her weight on you. Eventually you just have to let go which means you start the whole process over again. When letting go you need to be careful about your own feet. Its astonishing how an uncooperative horse can manage, with the accuracy of a cruise missile, to stomp on your foot seemingly no matter where you place it.
Of course, the boss noticed none of this. She thought the horse was behaving beautifully, the implication being that we didn’t know anything about horses, and she did. Again, who cares as long as Sis would at least not try and kill us while we worked on her.
Larry and I were going as fast as we could, knowing that Sis was not going to behave for very long no matter what the boss thought. The problem was that Sis’s resistance made the whole process take more time and we were both being extra careful around the mare. The wranglers were watching from outside. Their eyes squinted; their lower lips sucked in. They were waiting for the explosion. But it never came.
As I was clinching the last two feet there was something odd going on. Sis would not pick up her foot for me but suddenly did, waving it around as if to say, “ Here it is. Take it!” As I grabbed it, placed it in position on the foot stand and started to clinch she began to pull back, threatening to tip over the foot stand which would be a great excuse to freak, but then she moved forward again and relaxed. When I was done she even put her foot down without slamming it onto the dirt. The last foot was a repeat of the first. Resist, relax, resist relax. I was never so happy to finish a foot in my life. Maybe she was getting it.
“Well, “Larry said “That’s the one we were looking for!”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The last one!
The boss made some snarky comments about all of us learning about how to hold a horse and left. To be fair, she was probably in a bad mood because she was thinking about the large check that she would have to write us.
We were putting our stuff away when I mentioned the weird behavior Sis was exhibiting when I was clinching.
“Oh, I thought you knew what was going on.” Larry grinned. “I had a handful of neck skin that the boss couldn’t see. Every time Sis got tense I twisted it just a little to get her attention and when she relaxed I released it. She figured it out fast. Told you she was smart.”
“Oh! Positive and negative reinforcement!”
“Exactly. Whatever you do you have to be fair. Horses have an intense sense of justice. If they do what you want, then you must take the pressure off. You’ll see it in the corral all the time. A dominant mare tells another horse to move. That horse doesn’t move. The dominant mare comes at them all teeth and stomping feet. The other horse runs away but the lead horse doesn’t hold it against them. You’ll see them an hour later swishing flies off each other like they are the best of friends. Which, of course they are, as long as they all know their place in the herd.”
Larry loaded his anvil up in the truck. This was fascinating and I realized I had a lot to learn.
“Mules believe in fairness even more. They will hold a grudge if you slight them. It may take a very long time, but they will wait for just the right moment to pay you back for an insult. When you deal with mules, and you will, don’t think of them as horses. You’re better off thinking about them as llamas or chickens but never horses.”
I was laughing now. Chickens? Larry chuckled.
“Ok, maybe not chickens but you get my point. We’ll work on a few that belong to a customer of mine. You’ll see.”
After loading The Box back on its trailer, we headed back across the ford. The wranglers refused our invitation for a ride. They were a little rude about it. Apparently, much like mules, wranglers can hold a grudge.
As we ground our way across the creek in low gear I now understood what Larry was talking about how this ford wasn’t meant for trucks and trailers. Once across, we had to drive up the two track to an embankment and wall of trees then back up into the river to make the swing on the 90 degree turn. I suppose the wranglers were just being smart.
We stopped on the road at the office and Larry went and got our check and we headed back down the mountain. The horses had been turned out and they raced along through the pastures led by Sis. She stopped to bid us goodbye with her ears laid back and a snarl on her lips. I swear. It was a snarl.
That night Kerry made pizza to celebrate the end of a lot of horses. My legs were killing me so I filled the bathtub with Epsom salts and hot water. It was wonderful just soaking. Kerry brought in pizza on a plate and some beer for me to the great amusement of the boys. I told her about the campground picnic spot and we decided to go up on Sunday afternoon when most of the campers were leaving to go home. I was just regaling her with the saga of Sis when the phone rang. Kerry went to answer it and came back with a grin on her face and handed the receiver to me.
“Hello?”
“Hey, its me.” Said Larry. “What ’cha doing?”
“Eating pizza in the bath tub while I soak my legs. You?” There was a roar of laughter on the other end of the phone.
“Me too!”
I told you he was a smart guy.
Authors Note: Larry from the story is a subscriber of The Anvil’s Ring I’m proud to say. He chastised me the other day about an inaccuracy in the story. We shod 100 horses at the ranch, not 60 as I stated. This is what happens when you spend your life with your head lower than your butt and all the blood rushes to your head making your brain mushy.
It was 100? Good Lord, we were even crazier than I thought.
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