The Horse Whisperer

Today’s song is “The Wizard” by Uriah Heep. Webster’s dictionary defines wizard as “a person who is skilled in magic or who has magical powers”.

Growing up I thought my grandpa had magical powers when it came to horses.

Album: Uriah Heep – Demons And Wizards
Source: Hogwild Records,  San Antonio
Cost: $1

An eerie silence filled the predawn hours. The high atmospheric pressure squeezed the humidity from the air like water from a wet sponge, leaving a heavy dew on the idyllic landscape. A herd of Holstein cows soundly slept in a pasture 100 yards from the farmhouse where Carl Piper was methodically pulling on his overalls and work boots.

Today, just like every other day, Carl strolled past a wall of blue and red ribbons, opened the backdoor, descended the stairs of the stoop and headed to his pickup truck. He drove the truck slowly into the pasture, toward the barn that housed the milking equipment.  The herd knew the routine and followed the truck without hesitation.

A few Holsteins followed him into the barn.  The remainder of the herd waited patiently for their turn to climb the ramp and be hooked up to the milking machines which would make short work of the milking process.   The freshly gathered milk was stored in a holding tank where it would be picked up, later in the day, by a tanker truck from Hiland Dairy.

Relieved of the pressure wrought by a full udder the cattle returned to the pasture. Carl returned to the house where his wife, Dorothy was busy preparing his usual breakfast of eggs, freshly gathered from the chicken coop, bacon (because he liked bacon), fruit from the garden, and prunes (because they kept him regular).  After breakfast, Carl drove to the Rexall Drugstore on Main Street where he would drink a cup of coffee with the other farmers and compare notes on farming and life.

Carl was our grandfather and, for as long as we knew him, he never strayed from this daily routine.  Whenever Bert, Brian and I had the opportunity to visit him and Granny, he would take us on his jaunts to the drug store.  He used to give each of us a dime or a quarter so we could buy candy while he enjoyed coffee with his buddies.  One time, Bert and I talked him into buying us Mini-Dragons (a Creepy Crawler Thingmaker expansion pack by Mattel). Mom was not happy about this and I can still hear her voice as she scolded us for “manipulating grandpa to buy us things.”

Grandpa returned from the drug store and spent the rest of the morning cutting grass, repairing machines, or taking care of any number of things on the farm. After lunch he would finish his remaining duties and retire for his afternoon nap. He had a guilty pleasure of reading Harold Robbins novels. He once admitted to his granddaughter-in-law (who apparently had the same guilty pleasure) that “yep it is a bit racy”.

Grandpa was a hard working dairy farmer who never complained but everyone knew that cows weren’t his passion.  The pride and joy of his rural life were his Missouri Fox Trotter horses. (I encourage you to click on the hyperlink to learn more. They are horses bred specifically for life in Missouri.)

Grandpa was crazy about his Missouri Fox Trotter horses and owned 2-3 at any given time.  He worked with his horses every day, come rain or shine.  On good weather days, he would ride them on the oval track that was behind the house.  When the weather was bad, he would exercise the horses in a long section of the barn built specifically for that purpose.

Grandpa competed in horse shows and at the 1962 Missouri Fox Trotter Horse Jubilee Celebration his horse Lucky Strike was crowned World Grand Champion. In 2009 grandpa was posthumously inducted into the MFTHBA Hall of Fame.

By donating a portion of his land he helped establish the Ash Grove Saddle Club. His donation provided a place for many in Ash Grove to ride and a place for the club to host local shows and competitions.  This was a special place for us to spend time with Grandpa, working along side him running the tractor and water truck to prepare the grounds, working the concession stand, and partaking in a good “chew” of Levi Garrett.

Grandpa was a quiet man whose actions spoke louder than words.  Teaching us to ride was the perfect way for him to show his love for us and his horses.  I still remember the thrill of riding, the smells of the barn, offering apples to the horses, and the way Grandpa sat tall in the saddle.

Challenge question to readers:  Anyone else out there have a “Wizard” story?