The old adage “a horse can not choose his owner” is not true with my West. My stud colt West chose me. It was late February and everyday as I trudged back through knee deep snow to feed Tater Gun, West would follow along. Oh there were five other colts running around and anyone of them could have paid attention but West had an innate curiosity. Black with two hind white socks, West was the proverbial pick of the litter. The hillbilly neighbor just leaves his stud to service any and all mares on the ranch and so there are/will be a large number of colts each spring/winter. Born October 12th, I guess West’s mama was standing in line for awhile. West just kept following me and nuzzling me – each day!
Why did I choose the name “West”? Well, I was back east with my folks and grew tired of the Penthouse Apartment at the Johnson Building overlooking central park. Sure it was beautiful and the hardwood floors were stunning but being in the city was stifling. The horses were boarded out and I was losing that real connection with my horses. I came back west to Montana to reconnect and write! I guess ” rebirth” is apt reason to name a horse!
I had to figure out how to get West! The hillbilly neighbor was fighting with his wife and she finally ran off to greener pastures so I figured I would ask. He was under the gun from the ranch owner where he ran his horses and needed to “shed a few”. West came to hang out with Tater Gun in May and they love one another! It was perfect because West needed a home and Tater needed a friend!
As I watch West grow, as I watch him go from “big lover” to “little rebel” , I am amazed at the creature God has created! I am thankful for the gift of life as West matures. I promised my little niece that someday West would be her horse to run barrels and rope breakaway! Until then – I get to raise West since he picked me as his father. Problem is, I am no Stud!