Mountain Cowgirl
Well-known member
- Joined
- Mar 19, 2021
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JD and Me
I wasn't really horse crazy like most ranch girls, but I did love old JD. He was 20 I was 17 when I left home. I had known him all my life. The neighbor that owned him said his name was Jack Daniels and was named that because he had a hard birth and the old vet that was called was drinking Jack Daniels when he arrived. It was a weekend late-night call, so lucky to get a vet at all. In haste to pick a name, they named the colt Jack Daniels.
JD was never broke or ridden that I remember. He was to be a stud, but he couldn't reproduce and the owners couldn't bear to sell him since his mother died at birth and he was bottle-fed and babied like a pet. He became testy when anyone attempted to train him. He was a bad influence on their others horses, always instigating trouble, they said, so he was put in his own pasture. He was content there. No one ever understood why this horse that didn't get along with other humans or horses very well, was never anything but gentle and nice to me.
When I worked on the fence separating our pastures, he always followed me and wanted me to rub his muzzle and neck. Over the years when I went over to the older couple's ranch to help them with some job, he would always come thundering up to the corral to greet me.
I was about 16 when I was over helping the lady owner, then a widow, do some repairs around her place. It was a very hot day and at that altitude, one can get dehydrated before one realizes it. I was out painting the old tack shop and had grown lax on drinking enough water. She had gone inside to cool off and rest. I don't remember going down but realized something was wrong when JD started whinnying as I had never heard him before. She came out and realizing I was suffering from heat exhaustion, drug me under a shade tree. After applying wet towels and giving me cool water to sip, I was able to go inside and rest until I could return home. I credit JD for saving me from a possible heat stroke. That following Christmas, I took him several bales of fine Timothy grass hay.
I left the ranch at 17 and got word a few years later that JD died. I was running the rolls on a highway project. I stopped for lunch and the foreman came over, visually shaken, to say he had received a radio message from the office that my mother had called and there was a death in my family, JD died at 25 and I could go home with paid time.
When I could dry my eyes and talk, I said, "No, I don't need time, JD was a neighbor's quarter horse and we had a special friendship." The foreman breathed out heavily and I could see his relief. I called my mother later that evening and all she had told the office clerk, due to party line problems was, "Let Faye know JD died and he just turned 25."
I wasn't really horse crazy like most ranch girls, but I did love old JD. He was 20 I was 17 when I left home. I had known him all my life. The neighbor that owned him said his name was Jack Daniels and was named that because he had a hard birth and the old vet that was called was drinking Jack Daniels when he arrived. It was a weekend late-night call, so lucky to get a vet at all. In haste to pick a name, they named the colt Jack Daniels.
JD was never broke or ridden that I remember. He was to be a stud, but he couldn't reproduce and the owners couldn't bear to sell him since his mother died at birth and he was bottle-fed and babied like a pet. He became testy when anyone attempted to train him. He was a bad influence on their others horses, always instigating trouble, they said, so he was put in his own pasture. He was content there. No one ever understood why this horse that didn't get along with other humans or horses very well, was never anything but gentle and nice to me.
When I worked on the fence separating our pastures, he always followed me and wanted me to rub his muzzle and neck. Over the years when I went over to the older couple's ranch to help them with some job, he would always come thundering up to the corral to greet me.
I was about 16 when I was over helping the lady owner, then a widow, do some repairs around her place. It was a very hot day and at that altitude, one can get dehydrated before one realizes it. I was out painting the old tack shop and had grown lax on drinking enough water. She had gone inside to cool off and rest. I don't remember going down but realized something was wrong when JD started whinnying as I had never heard him before. She came out and realizing I was suffering from heat exhaustion, drug me under a shade tree. After applying wet towels and giving me cool water to sip, I was able to go inside and rest until I could return home. I credit JD for saving me from a possible heat stroke. That following Christmas, I took him several bales of fine Timothy grass hay.
I left the ranch at 17 and got word a few years later that JD died. I was running the rolls on a highway project. I stopped for lunch and the foreman came over, visually shaken, to say he had received a radio message from the office that my mother had called and there was a death in my family, JD died at 25 and I could go home with paid time.
When I could dry my eyes and talk, I said, "No, I don't need time, JD was a neighbor's quarter horse and we had a special friendship." The foreman breathed out heavily and I could see his relief. I called my mother later that evening and all she had told the office clerk, due to party line problems was, "Let Faye know JD died and he just turned 25."