My name is Flicka
and my Owner’s a Clinic Junky!
Yes, it’s true. She went thru her mid-life crisis and came to the sale barn and bought me.
Poor Bailey - standing in for Flicka
I spent my whole life misbehaving and being passed from Greenhorn to Greenhorn till someone finally got smart and sent me to the sale barn.
I was seriously hoping to be picked up by one of those show horse fellas so I could live in a fancy barn and stand around and look pretty, but they told me my butt was too small, my head too big, and the crest on my neck from a bout with grass founder (thanks to owner number 2) is not desirable, and in general I was just not that capable of looking pretty, so I went home with Phyllis instead.
She pets me and loves me, and in general I had a pretty good life at first. Then she heard about those guys who whisper to horses. Life has never been the same.
First there was Pat. At Pat’s clinic Phyllis learned to twirl a big stick and chase me around a round pen till I was ringing wet with sweat.
Once I had quote calmed down (I was never really fired up in the first place till that guy came at me with the stick like an idiot) she began learning to ride me with no bridle.
Talk about giving an old spoiled horse an opportunity to have some fun! Initially I went along with it. I’d lope around the pen real nice like, and everyone would oooh and cooo over my natural horse abilities.
Then, just when everyone had gathered around to watch, I would see the SCARIEST!!
(te he he he) Shadow in the history of scary shadows and switch directions and take off with my rider clinging terrified to my back. Every other horse on the place was envious of me because their owners would take them out back and beat them with that overpriced stick when no one was watching, but I knew my Phyllis would not.
Eventually Philly (as I like to call her) gave up on Pat.
Off we went in search of another guru. In our search we found Monty.
He threw a string at a horse and talked to the horse with winks and stares. I spent some time with his clinic horses. I saw the demonstration where an unbroken 2-year-old became an overnight Reiner.
Later I talked to the 2-year-old. He was actually 5 and had been doing this same routine for about 5 clinics now.
The first time Phyllis broke out the string I again, went along with it. Well, until she got tired of me stopping and looking at her like she was stupid. When she went to get herself a glass of water and refer to that chapter in Monty’s book I grabbed the string and chewed it to pieces. And this is how I got my Jolly ball!
Then there was the Indian fella with a name I can’t pronounce. To get the full effect of his clinic Philly painted stuff on my body and put feathers in my hair. I looked like I was in a Costume class, but hey whatever floats your boat.
I thought maybe at least with this guy we might get to play Indian pony games and have mock battles or something but no. More round pen work and gimmicks. This time there was a fire in the middle of the round pen and they danced around it while praying that I would become a good horse and always mind my owner. He only took her for a couple thousand pelts and a bottle of firewater.
