Just a Sorrel Horse

Just a Sorrel Horse

He was just a sorrel horse, one of many at the auction. I wouldn't have guessed then that he would be yet another part of my equine education. Hopefully my ongoing education.

The sale was an annual event that drew the attention of both sellers and buyers. Most of the horses consigned were registered Quarter Horses. The first part of the day was taken up with observing the horses and their pedigrees. Following a mid day barbecue, the sale began. That particular year most of the horses were selling at a fairly high price. A year later would be a completely different story, as the bottom would drop out of the horse market. However in 1984, they sold well. Despite the prices quite a few horses were withheld by sellers and taken home. I bid on a few horses but soon dropped out when the price went beyond my means. Finally a thirteen- month-old sorrel colt came in the ring. I bid more than I expected to, but I was the new owner of a Quarter Horse stud colt. Luckily I was able to find some neighbors that could trailer him fifty miles home for me. They had outbid me on another horse earlier in the day and were taking it home as well.

Once home my new education would begin. I had to learn about both the pleasure and the responsibility of owning and managing a stallion. If I had to have a teacher, Skip, his registered name is Skip Bug McCue, has been a good one. His wonderful disposition, evidenced by his large, kind eyes, has made my learning almost painless.

I started riding him when he was three and his training was quick and easy. He was basically an angel. Of course, part of my education was in learning to handle him when he was less than an angel. During the breeding season when mares are around and his hormones are raging things can happen fast. I do carry a couple of scars. He was just being a good teacher. A big part of my responsibility is being ever vigilant to keep other horses and people from being hurt. When he is in a pasture with his small harem it can be tricky moving horses in or out. Words cannot describe the instantaneous power a stallion can exhibit if he should think you are competition. I also have to watch for the errant horse that may have escaped from its owners and wandered nearby. Horses fighting across or through wire fences can be seriously hurt.

There is also a pleasurable side. After nearly a year of waiting, spring arrives to the galloping of new foals playing. All legs at first, they soon grow into their bodies and then into replicas of their parents.

Skip is now twentythree years old. He doesn't do as much cow work as he once did but he is still a good saddle horse. Half of his year is spent without any equine companions. He still gets treated to a few girlfriends in the spring and summer. Not such a bad life for just a sorrel horse.