A Lucky Story

I promised a story about my horse Lucky, so here goes.

When I was growing up, we raised cattle. Our farm wasn't large enough for all the cows we owned, so we had to find pasture for them each summer. The Blackfoot Reservation was 30 miles from our place and there was lots of pasture to be rented there so we hauled the cows to Badger Creek each spring.

Back then, we used a two ton farm truck for all the hauling. It had the flatbed, grain sides, or if needed the stock rack.

Several times during summer, we'd load my horse into the truck and I'd ride, looking for our cattle. I loved it because you could ride all day long on the reservation, without running into fences. The cattle ranged between Badger Creek and Two Medicine, from highway, to the mountains so you had a lot of territory where they could be.

Lucky was a great cattle horse, and he loved these rides as much as I did. After one of these rides, my dad decided to pick Lucky and I up out on the prairie, instead of letting us get to the loading chute at the corral. He backed the truck up to a bank.

This bank, where he expected my horse to load, was maybe 15 feet from the back of the truck, the truck was parked on a downhill slope from the bank. It was the only possible place to load in maybe 10 miles. The more I looked at the situation, the dread rose up in me until I couldn't stand it. My first problem was the slick, oak deck of the truck. I knew Lucky would have no footing when he hit the deck, he didn't even have shoes on that would help him dig in to slow down.

The deck was extra slick, because we hauled grain in it when it wasn't hauling cattle. It was facing downhill, that would add to the momentum of this problem. I could imagine nothing but seeing my horse, who I loved with all my heart, with broken, mangled legs.

My dad tried to get Lucky to load. Lucky refused. Dad tried again. Lucky refused. The more Lucky refused, the more I saw my dad's jaw set with determination. The more that happened, the more you knew you were not going to like what happened next. When dad got in that mood and started issueing orders, he was of the old school, you didn't agree with him, his belt came out of it's loops and you did what he said or you were sorry.

Dad turned to me and said, "He'll load for you. Get in there and call him."

So now I would be the one responsible for my horse's broken legs! Great. I said, "I'm not going to do it. He'll break his legs."

Of course I ended up in the front of the truck, against the rack, calling my horse. I knew Lucky would jump for me, I knew when he did, he'd hit the deck and not be able to stop until he crashed into the rack beside me. It wasn't the best moment in my life. I just hoped he made it all in one piece.

I knew when I called him, I had to put all the confidence in the world into my voice that he could do it. I didn't want him to hesitate, or cause him to take to small a jump.

I called him, and he jumped. No hesitation. No wait...just this instant springing leap from the ground to the slick truck bed. As he lept, I saw his belly and his legs coming at me and I moved to the corner of the truck bed. His hooves hit the deck with a huge clatter and wild scramble to keep them under him. He slammed into the front of the truck bed, trying to avoid me, his head high to go over the top of the rack as he came to a stop.

Knowing an animal trusts you to that degree is humbling. You know you've done nothing to deserve it, for you've placed him in danger of losing his life.

If my dad hadn't been there with that tough look on his face, I would have cried like a baby. Not because I hadn't got killed in this episode, but because Lucky managed to make the jump without getting hurt. I've never felt such over whelming relief as I did in that moment. I hugged Lucky, when he had his feet under him, tied him to the rack and off we all went for home.

The biggest thing in my dad's life, has always been to betray no emotion so that was the mood of the day as we drove home. We talked about the cows and the shape they were in and how big the calves were...nothing was mentioned about the leap of faith Lucky had taken.

I'm telling this story exactly as it happened. Not to put my dad in a bad light, but simply to say, this is how it was in those days. I'm not sure it's better now. Sometimes kids can be so protected, and so pampered, they don't learn responsibility, they don't know the extremes of love for a pet, they don't learn how to protect themselves from danger and they don't learn to deal with consequences.

Not that I think any kid should have to go through something like this event. Lucky could have had broken legs, as easily as he could have made a successful jump. I still shudder to think of what could have happened to him. As it was, Someone up above, was watching out for him and me that day.
donna