My Horse April

 This is the story of my beloved horse, April.

I will tell the tale as I remember it.

I was eight years old when our neighbor’s son came to sell us two horses:  Shippie and April. I think it was even my eighth birthday, and I had just received a horse blanket.

Dad tried her out first. Then he let me try her. My older sister got Shippie and I got Ape (our nickname for April).

One day, some time later, I was riding April on a cattle drive. Along came our neighbor,and she asked me, “Do you think that you can handle her?” I was not sure what she meant, but I replied, “Yes.”

I found out later, what our neighbor meant.

It was a wintry day, and dad needed us to follow on horse back and trail the cows while he led them in the feed-truck. April started acting up, and bucking. ( I was only quite little then, and I may have just thought that it was bucking, but dad told me she was.) Dad took off her bridle and saddle. I got in the feed truck. I remember watching her run around the feed truck stealing bits of hay, and wondering if I would ever ride her again.

I was afraid, but I felt a bit guilty for not riding her, and it made me feel like a coward. Dad told me to carry a stick and remind her I was boss when she started acting up by giving her a little smack on her withers. We would pray before the ride, that April, “would be good today.” I never fell off, but I was still scared, and when we would go on rides, I would ask everyone who was riding, “You guys, can we please walk?” because I was afraid to go fast.

Not long after, a new ranch-hand came to our ranch. He rode April and loved her.

That young man rode April on the range all summer, sometimes 30 miles or more, and got most of the fight out of her. At his wedding, later, the guests had to write poems to make the bride and groom kiss (rather than tinkling glasses). Dad wrote an epic poem. It talked about the other “girl” that the young man had met at our ranch.

April was better, or maybe I was just older. One day I joked to My older sister, “As I grow up, and can handle more horse, April gives me more challenge.” Also, we joke that April has a large, “personal space.” Sometimes she kicks and bites other horses that get too close. This sometimes comes in useful when chasing cows: Moving too slow? Snap! She’ll bite the rump of the straggler.

I still ride her, and she is one of the main range horses on our ranch. She can go all day over rough country. She can still be a brat, but something over rules that: my love for her.