rocky rocky      Howdy buckaroos! Let me introduce myself; my name is Rocky The Mustang Horse - but most of my friends call me Rocky. By now you're probably wondering - why would a wild horse have his own website? Well, I think I speak for a lot of mustangs who have been rounded up off the prairie when they were young and "adopted" - only to spend the rest of their lives stuck in somebody's yard like a pink flamingo because nobody knew what to do with us. O.K., so we're not exactly cut out for pancake saddles and men in tights, but that's because we come from a little higher cut-of-cloth. I was one of the lucky ones who received the proper training and care; I've been to school, I've worked for the government, and I've spent years in the private sector as a professional trail horse. I think it's time mustangs are recognized for their superior equine qualities, so I'm having my friend, the little Bubba Zoodie, post my resumé and tell my story here on the internet.









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CHAPTER I: from "The Absolutely True Tales Of Rocky The Mustang Horse" by Bubba Zoodie.


My name is Bubba Zoodie--
but the ladies call me Cutie!

     I first met Rocky riding with him in the trailer. Personally, I don't mind trailer rides. I'm a very well educated horse. I was brought up in the big barn, and as you can see from my picture, I obviously have very good papers. So, I've been riding around in trailers ever since I was little. There's always lots of good hay to eat, and sometimes you get to go to exciting places where lots of people pet and admire you. But I could see that my companion was very upset and unhappy. I was glad there was a bar between us, because I could see by his markings that he was a mustang, and from all I'd heard, they were mean and not well educated. However, he wasn't eating his hay, and as I was halfway done with mine, I thought maybe I could get him to push some through the grill to my side. So I introduced myself: "You can call me Zoodie, so what's your name." At first he appeared not to hear me, but gradually his eyes focused on me, and he said, quite curtly I thought, "if you mean what do the two legged ones call me, I'm 'Rocky', but when I was little in the wild with my family, I was called 'son of first', because my mother was the head mare of the herd and the preferred companion of my father, the king." And with that information he turned his head away and relapsed into a stony silence. I hadn't forgotten why I had begun the conversation, however. So as politely as I could, in order to disguise my true motives, I asked " So how come you aren't eating your hay. It's really fresh timothy." Again, he ignored me, but eventually he told me the story of his early life in the wild's of Wyoming and how he and most of his herd were captured.

     It had been a warm spring day, he said. He and his mother, with his new brother by her side, had been on a sunny hillside with the rest of the herd eating tender, green, shoots of grass sprouting up in the sage. Suddenly, his mother raised her head in alarm, and soon he could also hear the sound of a helicopter approaching. She whinnied loudly to the rest of the herd, and they all began running for the shelter of the nearby canyon with his father bringing up the rear. When they dropped down into the sheltering shadows of the canyon walls, they headed for the narrows where the shadows were particularly deep and dark. They would have stopped there to hide, but without warning, men on horseback appeared at the canyon's entrance and began driving them further into the canyon where a corral, he had never seen before, was waiting. They could not turn back so he hoped his mother knew of a way out at the other end. The gate shut behind them and although his mother frantically scoured the corral for an exit, there was none. Panic began to set in, but his father quickly restored calm, and they all turned to face their captors at the gate, waiting to see what would happen next.

     What happened next was somewhat hazy and jumbled up in Rocky's story to me, but I got the picture. The next day many men on horses drove the herd to a larger corral out on the prairie. When he looked around that night, he saw that his father and several of the older members of the herd had apparently escaped. But his mother and little brother were still there, and he stayed by them for comfort. His mother was full of advice and did her best to allay his fears by telling him that she was confident that no matter what happened he would survive because he was smart. He got a hint of what was to happen from an old gelding in the corral next to his that he talked to that night. He learned that someday he would probably also have his own man to carry around. The old gelding, who said his name was MR.B., told him that everything would be fine if he just remembered one thing:" Never bite the hand that feeds you". He noticed that the next morning Mr. B. whinnied as his man appeared, and that he was well fed immediately afterwards. It was a lesson Rocky never forgot, and one of many he was to learn in the coming months.

     But when he told about his first trailer ride, I began to understand why he would probably never be able to relax enough to eat his hay in the trailer. He told me that, since then, captured horses no longer suffered such torment, but as he had been caught as a yearling, almost seven years ago, things hadn't changed yet, and he had been forced into a crowded, two-story cattle truck with barely enough room to breath. The ceiling had been so low that the biggest horses were unable to stand up straight. He also told me that he couldn't remember when he first noticed that his mother and little brother were missing. But by the time he found himself in a place where there were many corrals, horses and men, and many things he had never imagined existed, he realized she and his little brother were gone, and that he would have to learn to survive in this new world without her continuing advice. However, he remembered her confidence in his abilities, and was determined to do well, as she expected. After all, he was a mustang prince, with bloodlines as far back as the Spanish conquistador's Arabian barbs on his mother's side, and a famous, Thoroughbred, racehorse on his father's side. The idea of having his own man to carry around on his back was a nagging worry, since he had been told since he was foaled that if anything landed on his back he was to do all he could to get rid of it as quickly as possible, as it could only be a mountain lion or other bad thing. But he resolved not to think about it at present, because after all, for the first time since he was weaned, there was plenty of food and fresh water at all times that he didn't have to walk for miles to get. And that was making the situation quite tolerable!

     Now, if the water bucket doesn't freeze over or the hay turn moldy, I'll be back soon to tell you how Rocky, the mustang prince, did learn to survive in his new world and become the horse that my people value and love almost as much as me. And, if you must ask, no, I never did get Rocky to push any hay over to me that day in the trailer. It just went to waste.

WHEW!--I have just finished recording the next chapter of "The Absolutely True Tales of Rocky The Mustang Horse", and my little buddy Mr. "Reddy Mouse" has e-mailed it to the web site using the computer in the barn office. So click on the picture of my handsome self to the right to read the next astounding tale!!...B. Zoodie

SKIP AHEAD to any chapter of Rocky's incredible tale - or jump straight to each story's photos. Just remember to click on Rocky's barn at the bottom of the galleries to return here.

 CHAPTER II: The Escape!

CHAPTER III: Summer Camp    or     No thanks - lets just see the awesome photos!

CHAPTER IV: The Promotion    or     Cut the dribble - just the pics please!

 CHAPTER V: Rocky On The Ranch   (no pics or tunes here - just pure drama!)

CHAPTER VI: Disaster in the Pasture!   Rocky, ropes, and bulls - GOOD GRIEF!

PLUS A never-before-heard mustang music cut found by Reddy Mouse in the barn!

CHAPTER VII: The Reunion    Yes folks, its the tear-jerking finale!









GOOD GRAVY!!--This year begins with Rocky teaching me (The Bubba Zoodie) how to play the traditional Mustang game of "Stick!" Yes folks, the competition is FEROCIOUS and the entire match has been filmed by television crews from the famous cable network - CINEMUSTANG. Luckily, I have received a copy of the entire match from Reddy Mouse (no questions asked) and am making it available for a pre-broadcast showing! So click on the action photo to the right and download a slideshow of the most amazing Mustang Muscle Match ever filmed!!!

WHOA!!! I can't believe this! Just the other day the Bubba Zoodie said to me "Rocky - it's time for you to retire, I mean, you are getting a little "long in the tooth". "Really?", I said, "well, let's see just how long those teeth are getting", and I bit him on the butt real hard! He doesn't bring it up anymore, but, lets face it, he's probably got a point. Afterall, you know something is not right when your owner has nailed the same set of shoes on you for the last three summers. SO!!! - just where would a mustang of cyber fame, and who has a distinguished career like me retire? You guessed it folks - The Big Island of Hawaii!! So click on the picture of my "retired" self to the left and see photos of the parcel I'm trying to talk my owner into buying - it's located on the northern part of the Island in a development known as Lotsamula Ranches. As you will see - some of my friends are already there!



Just click on one of my buddies below and they will see to it that I get the message!


As you can see from the live shot below, I'm not too busy today! So why not take a minute to click on the picture which will take you over to the barn where the guest book is stored. You can enter comments, suggestions, or just say "Howdy" and I'll get back to you real soon. Thanks!

Last Update:02-18-09