My father and his buddy, Al, spent a few years mustanging during the summers in Eastern Oregon. It was a life of freedom and not much responsibility for two single guys. They captured and broke the young horses, then sold them to ranchers. When the horses were exceptionally good buckers, they sold them to rodeo contractors for the bucking string. Ever once in a while, when especially tired of each others company, they headed down to the nearest rodeo for an exciting diversion, trying their luck participating in various events. Making some extra money was a bonus.
After a time, my dad and Al parted ways. Al, always a good talker, became an auctioneer, his fast patter much sought after by the auction yards. Dad headed back to his old stomping ground in western Oregon to continue his career trading horses, building a loyal clientele by referrals and repeat customers.
My father was a handsome and charming man; 6’2, dark hair, and piercing hazel eyes. He had no shortage of women who wanted to lasso and tie him down to matrimony, but until he met my mother, he was not to be tamed; a confirmed bachelor.
Fate intervened while on a trading trip to a pretty coastal ranch. The place was owned by a hard-boiled, no-nonsense woman, who everyone called Old Lady Brown, even though she was only in her 40’s. My father had done business with her a number of times, but during this particular visit, he noticed a new hire working there. She was a good-looking brunette with porcelain skin and a beautiful smile. He was immediately smitten by this young woman, but the crusty ranch owner wasn’t pleased to have her best worker distracted by a horse-trading cowboy, not to mention the fact that she had designs on him herself. It took some time and a lot of charm on Dad’s part to finally sweet talk Old Lady Brown into allowing her ranch hand girl to date him.
It was love at first sight for my father, but how about my mother?
To be continued . . .
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My father and his buddy, Al, spent a few years mustanging during the summers in Eastern Oregon. It was a life of freedom and not much responsibility for two single guys. They captured and broke the young horses, then sold them to ranchers.
My earliest memories are all wrapped up around horses and as an extension of that, my father. He was a true-life horse trader; making his living and feeding his family by trading horses.
How do you define “Horse Crazy Gal”? It’s simply a girl or woman who prefers the company of equines to that of humans. Not that she is antisocial, but feels “at home” with horses like maybe she really is part horse, and should have been born a filly.
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