It's the LAW...

Quick! Someone get this woman a club (see below)


Here's your weekend fix of Laws of the Horse (actual laws regarding horses and the community)

A Wyoming community passed this one: "No female shall ride a horse while attired in a bathing suit within the boundaries of Riverton, unless she be escorted by at least two officers of the law or unless she be armed with a club." (A club? Oh yea, that'll work.)

Apparently there were problems, so the good people of Riverton got back together.

They they added an amendment to the original: "The provisions of this statue shall not apply to females weighing less than ninety pounds nor exceeding two hundred pounds."
(hmmm. What do you supposed happened to call for an AMENDMENT? I wish I was at that city council meeting. By the way the Riverton Wyoming motto: "getting things done, behind the scenes" I could not make this up. I'm simply not that funny.)



A misworded ordinance in Wolf Point, Montana: "No horse shall be allowed in public without its owner wearing a halter." (But I look terrible in halter tops!)



A Fort Collins, Colorado Municipal Code: "It is unlawful for any male rider, within the limits of this community, to wink at any female rider with whom he is acquainted." (No winks? Well that takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?)

Keep your laws off my Horse!

An email list I'm on had this great list of Horse Laws. Every weekend I'm going to include a few from the list...

FYI: No one knows how they got there and no one living has a memory of anyone arrested under them.

In Omega, New Mexico, every woman must "be found to be wearing a corset" when riding a horse in public. A physician is required to inspect each female on horseback. The doctor must ascertain whether or not the woman is, in fact, complying with this law! (I have a feeling there were some very serious physicians lobbying for that one.)

In Hartsville, Illinois, you can be arrested for riding an ugly horse. (oh boy, do I have some suggestions...Do you suppose Fugly was around back then?)

In Pattonsburg, Missouri, according to the Revised Ordinances (well, at least they revised it), 1884: "No person shall hallo, shout, bawl, scream, use profane language, dance, sing, whoop, quarrel, or make any unusual noise or sound in such manner as to disturb a horse." (Well, that leaves out most trainers, doesn't it?)


As far as I know, drawing a full skeleton on a horse is not illegal. But maybe it should be...

Camel Dressage - the rest of the story

I love the YouTube video of the camel doing dressage (you can see it on you tube, but just head over to Vacquero Girl, because it's more fun over there in general).

So, being the geek, I googled it. And here's the rest of the story. The camel belongs to Lady Chichester (no kidding, now tell me you are not surprised that this camel belongs to someone who is English) and the camel's name is Therese. And she LOVES to mug for the camera.

And Therese doesn't just do dressage - she also jumps.

The BBC has an amusing video and interview here, in which Lady Chichester says it's not particularly eccentric to have a dressage/hunter jumper with two humps and a propensity to spit...

The Tarp That Almost Killed Me - Part 2 By Canyon

(If you missed the first part, go here)

Hi, it's Canyon again. Sorry for the delay in this post. I guess it was the trauma, I guess I have PTSHD (post traumatic stress horse disorder) and needed some time to process.

Where were we? Oh yes. Having narrowly escaped the python that was about to completely wrap itself about our entire riding party, we headed back to the relative saftey of the barn.

I say relative because when a hungry wind is blowing through no place is really safe. I was plodding back, which is necessary because if you start to trot back, which any rational horse would do, then you get turned around and have to go BACK, resulting in significant cookie delay.

We had to make two turns thanks to Mr Ants-in-my-horseshoes Woody. He always starts trotting. Then we have to stop and wit for him to calm down. I really did try to help him out.

"Woody, you have to just think mellow thoughts."

"Woo Hoo! We're going BACK! We're done!"

"Woody, I've been here before. We might go right back in the pasture filled with the tiny rocks and have to run in all these circles and ..."

"Not a chance! We're done! I can tell... Oh, wait... What? Back up? Again? When we are so CLOSE?"

Sigh. He must have had to do 20 circles and 45 back steps.

Anyway we were pretty close to the barn when suddenly it happened! Out of the little square building a LION LUNGED BEHIND ME! No kidding! You could tell because the door on the little building flew open with so much force that it swung.

It had to be a darn fast lion, because I didn't quite see it. Just the little building there, with the door opening and closing a few times.

I was on edge then. I'd scooted my but away from those claws and then, with complete disregard for our safety, was forced to look at the little building and the door.

Where was the lion, you might ask. I was about to find out.

We turned away from the Lion's ... den and took maybe three steps when it happened. The lion leaped off the stack of hay on the other side of the road! Once again I managed to scoot away, lifting my hooves high, preparing to strike the horrible beast.

It had disappeared again.

I asked Woody, who finally arrived at the wash rack if he saw the lion, which I was sure was still lurking around.

"Canyon. There are no lions. Zero. Zip. And I told you we were done!"

"We would have been done 20 minutes ago if you hadn't been trotting! Because of you we had to circle over and over. And if we'd been done I wouldn't have very nearly been KILLED BY LIONS!"

"I was right next to you. There was no lion."

I snorted. "You should thank your lucky stars you've got me around. If I wasn't watching out for your big behind you would have been served up as lunch today. Three times!"

Woody gave a great big shake, which I've learned is his way of expressing gratitude. He has a tough time with showing his emotions. It's a gelding thing.

We headed back to our pasture, almost to safety when I saw it.

The lion was back. It was coiled ready to spring, to satisfy it's desire for Arabian/Paint horsemeat, which had been too often denied. I stood there frozen as I watched mom walk straight towards the lion. I tried to warn her, but she just made those weird soft sounds while right there at her feet...

At her feet...

Was the lion! It flicked its tail and she took it's paw and shook it!

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Mom had obviously become a traitor, a Benedict Arnold, a Brutus to her Ceasar!

Yes, I would have thought the same thing a few months ago. But I've come to accept that she's not an agent of evil.

I think.

Anyway, she kept shaking the paw of the lion until it ever so slowly transformed into a YELLOW CANVAS TARP! Remarkably like the one they cover the hay with so horses can't just grab a bite when they walk by because these poor horses are starving on this 4 flakes at a sitting thing... It was an incredible act of magic, actually. Not many moms can manage it.

So, after I was convinced, thoroughly convinced, that the transformation to tarp was complete, I STEPPED OVER THE LION TARP.

Okay, it took two tries and she had to yank on the rope, just a little. But still.

Needless to say, I got TWO cookies and the colt was very, very, impressed.

Let this be a lesson. When a hungry wind rises and threatens everyone around you...
keep your Arabian/Paint horse inside the barn. It's far too dangerous for most of us... er, them.