ell, the water bucket didn't freeze over or the hay turn moldy, so here I am back for the 2nd chapter in the absolutely true tales of Rocky, the mustang boy.
As you may recall, I'm Zoodie, the good-looking two year old on this web site. And, although no one has ever said so, I'm sure I must have papers. And please remember, I can prove I was born in a barn, unlike my friend, Rocky. Now don't get me wrong. I have come to like Rocky a lot, since he turned out to be really nice and not mean at all, just scared sometimes. And believe it or not, he has taught me a lot of stuff. Like the time that he showed me how to chase the neighbor's dog away that had somehow gotten into the corral and was trying to bite my legs. And one time he even saved my life, but that is another story.
As I said in the last chapter, I met Rocky as we rode home together in the trailer. I was not quite one then, and I think Rocky was ten. So I figured that he had a lot more to tell me about his life since he was only one when he was captured. And I was right, but then I usually am. So, anyway, Rocky told me that after spending about a year in some pens with hundreds of other horses, he was finally adopted and taken to be trained at the honor farm. He had been well fed and cared for during that year, but he was very bored. Although he still missed his mom a little, and the herd he was born into, he had new friends now, so he wasn't lonely. In fact, the only thing he really missed was being able to gallop off with his new friends at a second's notice with a change of the wind or just on a whim. He imagined that someday soon he would carry his man on his back, and that together they would gallop off to distant hills where he would eat green grass while his man did things. He wasn't sure what those things would be, but he had heard rumors.
Well, he was given his own man at the honor farm, but instead of being trained to be a saddle horse, as he had hoped, he was trained to be a pack horse. I didn't know what a pack horse was, and Rocky had to explain that he was trained to carry all sorts of things on his back, everything but his own man. He was relieved in a way, but also disappointed. Other people had wanted to adopt him, like the nice man and his son who had petted him, and given him a carrot to eat. They surely would have used him as a saddle horse when he was a little older. The government had first choice, however, and had selected him and some of his friends for a new trail-building program in the Meteetsee National Forest. They needed a few good horses to carry the tools into places no machine could go. That sounded ok, but as a pack horse, Rocky also suspected that he wouldn't be allowed to go much faster than a walk. Certainly he wouldn't be allowed to gallop. Rocky resolved to make the best of it, however. He figured that, maybe if he did well, he would get to carry his own man around someday.
One night, however, it seemed that Rocky would get a chance to realize his dream of galloping off to distant places sooner than he had hoped. Somehow, the boy from town, who came to clean the pens in the evenings, had forgotten to close the gates to the pens. One of the older horses discovered this in the middle of the night, and soon alerted the others to this miracle. As the word spread, Rocky discovered that, indeed, the gate to his pen was also unlatched. For the first time since he had been captured, here was a chance to escape. Five or six of the other horses were already making their way down the road to freedom, and more were making their way in that direction. His heart began to race, and as he heard the galloping hoof beats of the others, he felt an irresistible urge to run. He pushed at the unlatched gate to his pen, and it swung open. Freedom at last! " Let's go, Rocky," cried his friend, Skylark, the little filly from the next pen. She had already escaped from her pen, and was urging him to push his way though his gate, which he did. As he began to run with the others, he felt an exhilarating rush of energy. It was wonderful! For the first time since he was captured, he could gallop full out, and he did, leaping and bucking as he and the rest ran down the road, and out across the fields. After a while, however, they came to a fence and a gate across the road that was not open, and that was the end of their midnight run.
Some of the horses began grumbling about the death of the open range, but Rocky had a different take on the whole matter. It had been fun, but now he was thirsty after the long gallop, and longed for the water bucket in his pen that was always filled. And being early spring, there wasn't much green grass on the hillsides that they had run to, and he was hungry. He tried grazing with the others, but it wasn't very satisfactory. As the sky grew lighter with the coming of dawn, he remembered that his man would soon be coming to his pen with fresh hay and water. It had been an adventure, but he realized that he now considered his home to be with the people who cared for him and not with the wild herd that had been his family. He also felt that, nowadays, he would really miss Skylark even more than his mother, so, although he wanted to return to his pen, he didn't want to return without her, and the rest of the herd that was now his family. However, there was no head mare to lead the herd. Skylark was too young for that, and being only two, he didn't have the authority of a herd stallion to push them back. So he didn't know how he could persuade them.
When he started talking to the others, however, he found out that Skylark and most of the others were also thinking about their fresh hay and water now that morning was getting closer. So, as he turned back in the direction of what was now his home, most of the herd also began to turn in that direction, too. Soon they were all following him. As they neared the honor farm, he could see his own man, with his friends, standing by the gate. They all stood looking in amazement, as Rocky led the herd through the gate to their pens. As the gates were secured once again, and the men stood cheering in Rocky's direction, he let out a loud whinny, and his man came very soon after with fresh hay and wonderful, thirst-quenching, water. That day his man brushed him an unusually long time, and when he was done with his lesson, he got a little more grain than usual. Rocky couldn't understand all the words the man was saying to him, but his tone seemed softer than usual, and he heard the word "good" a lot, so Rocky just knew that he was being praised for being the best horse at the honor farm. Rocky was glad he had been adopted by such good people. That night he could barely keep his eyes open to eat all his hay, as he was very tired after his exciting gallop. His only regret was that he was not able to have a good run every day, as long as he could return to his pen. So he fell asleep dreaming of the time when he would be old enough to have his own man to carry, who would open that darn gate on the road so that they gallop on.
Now, if the barn manager doesn't discover me in his office in the middle of the night getting my barn pal, Reddy Mouse, to e-mail this story to Rocky's website, I will be back soon to tell you what happened when Rocky was finally done with his pack horse training at the honor farm and off to his first job.
Well, the barn manager didn't catch Reddy Mouse e-mailing Chapter 2 of Rocky's story as written by me, Bubba Zoodie. But Reddy said he might have some trouble getting this out this month. Some of the mares in the barn are due to foal and people are coming and going at all hours, even in the middle of the night to help them if they need it. So, if this story is interrupted, I beg my readers to be patient. I promise we'll be back at the end of the summer to continue with this story, and the rest of the story of how Rocky got to be a world class trail horse, and my best buddy. Meanwhile, until we do get interrupted, here's Chapter 3, which is all about what Rocky did while working on the trail crew for the Meteetsee Forest Service in western Wyoming for the summer.
I CAN'T WAIT - TAKE ME TO CHAPTER 3!> OR NO THANKS - I'VE HEARD ENOUGH
