Monkey and Me

It's my favorite time of year. Cool days, no humidity, apples, pies, soup and fairs. The latter being my favorite.

Mr. Johnson and J were off on a humanitarian aid effort this weekend. So while Simi and I were holding down the fort we went to Murry's Mill Harvest festival. Murry's mill holds a special place in my heart. It's beautiful, simplistic, scenic and historic. It's where I'd like to live.

While we were there Simi and I rode a horse drawn carriage pulled by 2 beautiful Percheron horses. Listened to the Cockman and Edwards Family bluegrass bands for hours sitting on straw bales in the cool afternoon. http://www.cockmanfamily.com/mainpage.html We toured the grist mill and watched the miller grind corn in between 2 ton stones.

The whole scene made me homesick for a time I never knew. A time when our culture was conservative and sincere. A time when people developed their talents and worked hard. A time when people were more important than television and life was slower.

I'd like to try to get a little of that feeling back.

Enter Monkey, my trusty 16.4hh American Standardbred horse. Monkey was cart raced for 2 years in upstate NY. I don't know if he was any good. I tend to think not, he's too level headed and people oriented. After sometime he was adopted out (race horses have historically been euthanized after their short racing careers, it's only recently that adoption has become more routine) and then sold to a lady who was afraid of him. Fear rarely does any good, especially around horses. So Monkey spent the better part of a year in a cramped stall kicking, biting, and assaulting any living creature within a 30 foot radius of him. He had warning signs on his stall and a muzzle over his mouth.

That's where I was dumped into the picture. A friend of a friend calls me up and asks if I'd like a free horse. She must have forgotten to mention he was a headcase and an accident waiting to happen. There was a reason he was free after all. At the time I only had one other horse so Monkey was in my backyard by 5:00 the next evening. No one ever told me he was a wild man or aggressive. I assumed he was perfect.

He was.

He never gave me a moments aggravation. He's an overgrown dog, he comes galloping when he's called ready for attention and brushing. He'd curl up in my lap if I'd let him. We've logged many, many hours in the saddle together. We crossed rivers, spooked deer, galloped at breakneck speeds and gotten lost in the woods alone. He's also carried my 2 year old daughter bareback around the farm, let a 1 year old hang on his legs and tail, and has a tender, loving relationship with a mini-donkey named Norman.


All that to say, I'd like to teach him to pull a buggy. Large orange triangles and harnesses are in my future. I'm going back to a simpler time and I'd like to learn a new skill too.

Wish me luck I'm interviewing driving instructors.