Back at the Ranch

The entire time, I'm envisioning my emminent death, seeing as how that was the gelding who just went nuts, and all it needed was a self-shutting gate. I had to go and pick a stud, balls and all, and I couldn't shut the rear gate without 4 hail mary's and a lucky rabbit's foot. But I couldn't turn back now, after this big event, everyone had gathered around to see the next circus. So, armed with my crowbar and newfound peace with my maker, I sat atop the fence, ready to take a hoof in the face, my own proverbial polo ball if you will.They looked at me and asked if I was ready, and with all the confidence of a lamb before the slaughter I forced out a very weak "y..y..yeah." ...

With all the authority of the previous horse they popped open the chute gate, and out came my man. That is where the similarity ended. Slowly, yet deliberately he stuck his head out, looked to the left, then to the right, like a five year old who just learned how to look both ways before crossing the street. Confidently he walked with a slow authority to the trailer, where he casually stepped in, turned sideways, placed his butt against the side wall and assumed the position to ride home. We all just kind of stood there, waiting for something to happen. I was standing with the rear gate, not moving an inch, more hoping not to die than worrying about getting the thing shut. He turned his head and looked at me like "Well partner, were you planning on shutting that thing or do you want me to do it myself." I decided it would probably be best if I did it myself, but I did appreciate the offer. He quietly and patiently waited for me to complete the difficult task, while Will's horse is kicking the trailer, discontent with his current accomidations.

Off we went, down the road, stopping at Cracker Barrell, a precious commodity to poor country boys trapped on Long Island, where we sat down and decided what to name these two gentlemen. Selfishly you would love to name the animals, that's a given, after all we were the one's who picked them up, nearly dying in the process. But, they are for the boys, that's the real reason we're there, maybe we should let the boys name them we thought. It was settled, we'll leave it to the boys. We sat down for a well deserved meal.

After some good conversation, and a long anticipated Chicken Fried Steak, we reflected on the events of the morning. Two horses, two very different personalities, two names. Two characters, one hard nosed, unwilling to take direction or crap from anyone, the other more than willing to calmly, steadily do just what he needs to do and nothing more. Two hearty slices of Americana needed two healthy names to reflect their personalities, and ultimately rationalizing the fact that we couldn't have two horses named Cinnamon or Tupac, we decided then and there to take the matter into our own hands. What names would do these two justice? What names would help paint their picture? What two names would carry the sense of meaning these two drastically different yet similar characters? It was never so clear...