A man's passion is a precious thing; he should go for it

The old bucking horse syndrome is showing its ugly face in our country again!

My friend Ben showed up at the feed store walking on crutches and carrying his arm in a sling. He was grinning that sheepish grin and dreading the questions but knew they were coming. We all howdy-ed him and I scooted over so he could prop himself on the nearest feed stack. He groaned slightly as he tipped himself back and leaned.

He was a pitiful sight and made me feel bad for him, even if he was 30 years my junior. I learned many years ago to trust no horse because, about the time you do, they will become devil possessed. Then they will break you into a few pieces that are not easily repaired or glued back together.

I believe some chards of my precious body are still in the dirt where I had my last wreck. My fingernail on my left thumb is still growing like it was malformed at birth!

Poor old Ben was looking pale and his voice was a tad shaky but he was taking the ribbing pretty well, considering he knew that all of us had been face down in the dirt, too. We are a scarred-up bunch. Some of us limp and some of us stutter, but we keep on going. That is exactly what Ben will have to do.

We finally got around to asking what kind of mount had done him in and he perked up a little. He cleared his throat and started getting a little color in his cheeks. Seems he bought a horse at a sale in Kentucky for a little more than he gave for his place. He secured the loan with his truck and all but five acres of his land and got enough to buy a new trailer to haul said pony. The sire of this horse was a fifth cousin to a derby winner and the dam was a dapple gray.

Enough said, we all understood the draw! That horse is 16 1/2 hands high and has to be eared down to bridle. He is a 3-year-old and green broke, and now we know why. But Ben sure is proud of the purchase.

That pound of flesh he paid in the first effort of riding him is not the end and Ben will be on that tornado again as soon as his body heals!

We waited patiently as Ben worked himself around and got his billfold out of his hip pocket so he could show us a picture of this wonder horse. Sure enough, that piece of horse flesh was a beauty, standing at attention and the wind in his tail blowing it south -- A picture of a thousand words, I'd say.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, a man's passion is a precious thing. Some love good horses, some love good trucks and some of us just love life. I myself love to get around without too much pain, be able to use both arms and ride a horse that is old enough to behave on frosty mornings! I love God, my family, America and beef, beans, biscuits and pie!

Let me add that if a horse can stir a man's passion enough to put color into his face during a time of misery, he ought to go for it. Bless his heart!

Bill is the pen name of the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 10/08/2014