Sorry I havent submitted a column for the last two weeks. I have been so busy with work that there just hasnt been time. Most of the folks that know me will do a double take on that last sentence. The truth is for the last month business has really picked up, and it appears it will stay like that for the foreseeable future. It figures that the peak of perch fishing on Lake Erie, and the best grouse hunting in Michigan, and I would get too busy to sneak away. It would have been so much easier to have been born wealthy than to have to tolerate this work stuff.
I guess the good news is the work hasnt affected the weekends. I have gotten to spend the last three weekends bird dog trialing, and doing the mounted shooting thing. Last weekend there was a cowboy mounted shoot down in Cincinnati. My oldest daughter, Doodles, had the weekend off, and wanted to go along. We had a great time at the shoot on Saturday, and she took a first place in her class. Since Sunday was my wife and mines 29th anniversary, Doodles and I headed home after Saturdays shoot. We had a big day planned for Sunday, and the weather couldnt have been more cooperative for what we wanted to do.
One of the constants in the relationship my wife and I have shared has been horses, and trail riding. We spent a large portion of our time together when we were dating on trail rides. That continued after marriage, and our daughters enjoy it as much as we do. The plan Sunday was to be at the Mohican Bridle Trails at 10 a.m. for a day of trail riding. Our youngest daughter, Dippy, even pried herself away from school to come home and enjoy the day with us. The trip even got better when several of our friends showed up to ride also. Before we got there Sunday I had a decision to make, and by making the right choice it moved the trail ride up from wonderful to perfect.
Saturday at the shoot my horse, Jack, threw a shoe. This was no big deal, and he finished the shoot unaffected. The problem was we were going on a 20-mile trail ride in rough and rocky terrain, and that left a good chance to injure the bare hoof. My options were few. Since Dippy kind of commandeered my big saddle horse a few years ago, and she was riding him Sunday, that only left one option, and I hesitated to choose it.
Those of you that read this column know about Bufford. He is the big, strong, gaited mule that was my pride and joy until last Memorial Day. That was when I discovered mounted shooting, and was trying to prepare him to compete in it. While practicing we had a disagreement, and I came out of it with broken fingers. I then purchased Jack, and used him for all my horse riding needs. He is fantastic at the mounted shooting, OK at running dogs, and uncomfortable and slow on trail rides. I overlooked these deficiencies all summer, and pretended like Bufford didnt exist.
I was still uncomfortable with my decision to take him when we got there Sunday morning. He saddled up alright, but threw a fit when I tried to get on him. With some assistance from some friends I finally got in the saddle, and the next four hours were pure heaven. Perfect weather, gorgeous scenery, good friends and family, and the most comfortable riding animal on the planet. The purpose of the day was to celebrate 29 years of marriage to a better woman than I deserve, but it also rekindled my love affair with ole Bufford.
Catch you later, Rick
