Gus loves horses - still

I've always loved horses. Probably the first one I rode was at Missouri Stables, in St. Louis and right across from Forest Park. There was an underpass, so that riders could cross under the highway and get to the riding path in the Park.

Mom's horse was a big one that was 16-2 hands. How I ever scrambled up on Itsy Bitsy's (that was the name!) back, I have no idea. Itsy Bitsy was a five-gaited horse, and I loved all five gaits - walk, trot, canter, slow gait and rack. Rack was the best!!!

Other horses were Sonny Peavine and old Billy. Billy had been a St. Louis Police horse. We didn't own Billy, but dad boarded him at the farm in Chesterfield. You could do anything around Billy - sit under him; crawl under him; pull on him. Nothing phased Billy.

One time Billy stuck his leg through a barbed wire fence. When the other horses came in for feed late in the afternoon, Billy didn't come with them. The next morning we went looking for him. He had not pulled at all; he had just stood there and had eaten all the grass and leaves he could reach. He didn't have a cut on him. And he was very patient and still, while we got his foot out of the fence, too. What a horse!

Denver, a quarterhorse, had a reputation of dumping riders in Forest Park. One renter always took bus fare with her, so she could get back to the stable. One day we came out of the underpass, and I kicked him into a gallop. As we passed a large Quonset hut, he suddenly planted his front feet and whirled around to go back. For some reason, I was hanging on and stayed on him. He never tried that again with me.

I only came off a horse one time, and that was at the farm. Dad and I were fixing fence, and I was riding back to pick up another fencepost. I had left the stirrups long and was cantering along the top of the hill, when the horse got the bit in his teeth and took off. I stuck on when he turned left and started down the hill to the house. I knew there was a fork in the trail, and I felt the horse change leads, so I was prepared to go left with him, but I knew there was a low-hanging branch along that part of the trail.

At the fork I was leaning left, when he suddenly went to the right, and I went straight ahead. I guess it was good that the stirrups were long, because my feet didn't get caught in them. I walked down the hill and found the horse in the front yard - with Mom, all in a panic about no rider! I just got back on, got another fencepost and rode back to finish helping Dad.