This was my horse when I was a girl. His name is Rudy and my dad gave him to me when I was about ten years old. Rudy was a really special horse, because he was the only colt we got from our old gray mare Tasha and our new stallion, a Two Eyed Jack grandson. Rudy was built more like a racing Quarter Horse than any of our other horses. He had Thoroughbred lines from his mother who had Three Bars right on her pedigree.
I started training Rudy when he was two, and since I was just a kid myself I'm sure I made a lot of mistakes. I remember falling off a few times because I tried to ride him bareback out in the pasture with the other two-year-old colts. They all started running, and he bucked, and then ran away. I think I learned more than he did during those training sessions. My older sister Kandra gave me tips; she had been to a Ray Hunt clinic, and always started Dad's colts for him. We always had a lot of cattle work to do on Dad's ranch, so it didn't take very long for colts to learn the basics.
When I was in high school, I wanted to try riding English. My dad wouldn't let me buy an English saddle, even though I had saved up my money for one. He said there was no place for an English saddle on a working cattle ranch. I borrowed an English saddle from our neighbor and the first time I rode Rudy in it, he ran away with me. I hung on, but was unfamiliar with the saddle, and when he came to a barbed wire fence and turned sharply, the saddle slipped sideways. I hung on awhile longer, but the sideways saddle really wasn't helping me! So finally the saddle and I tumbled to the ground, and Rudy ran on for a few miles...I cleaned up the saddle and returned it and gave up ideas of riding English and jumping.
Rudy still lives on my parents' ranch, and whenever we go visit I talk to him and he looks at me like, "Oh, it's you again" and sniffs my hands. He is getting up in years, but still loves working cattle. My dad rode him regularly while I was in college, and every so often Rudy would get hyper and want to run. Dad just spoke to him gruffly, and he would settle back down. I think he would still run away to this day if given the chance!
During those high-speed escapades, it didn't feel like he was even touching the ground. I was too afraid to pull him sideways, afraid I would throw him like they do in the movies to make the horse fall down. So I would pull back as hard as I could and hang on for dear life. I never was hurt, but I fell off many times, when he would race up to a fence and skid to a stop. I was a crazy kid, and it's a wonder I lived to see old age! I always wondered just how fast Rudy was actually running, and if he would have been a competitive race horse. I knew he would have been an awesome barrel racing horse, but didn't think anyone could get him to turn. But we were just ranch riders, and his potential was left untapped in some ways. He will always have a special spot in my heart.