Short Story : ' Pride Before The Fall '

I remember as a little kid and now being fascinated by race horses. When I was around eight years old, my grandfather took me to a farm where they raise race horses. They were out exercising Mine That Bird and a few other horses. I thought it was so fascinating! The owner walked up to and asked if I enjoy watching them, I said very shyly,” yes sir.” He took me to the barn and let me look at all the foals and I was astonished. I got to thinking what all do they have to do to get these young foals ready to one day race? I asked Mr. Allen, and he said, “there are many things that you can do but some people don’t do the right thing and they cheat their way to victory”.

There is a trail down the road in Delaware where I enjoy taking my dog for a walk. It is a beautiful, five-mile loop traversing cornfields, thick patches of forest, steep hills and flowing streams; a wonderful place to escape the hustle and bustle of the suburban lifestyle and spend some time amongst the peacefulness of nature. It is not a complete escape, however, for I am not the only person that knows of the trail- it seems to also be a favorite of horseback riders. Often times I will encounter a rider or two at some point during my walk and, without fail, I will be in awe of the size and majesty of the horse. What an incredible, gentle beast it is. Standing next to a horse, you cannot help but gawk at the bulging, toned muscles and long, agile legs. It is truly an athlete with a rare combination of strength and speed. Yet, they are gentle and kind and have therefore been joined at the hip with humans; today, nearly all horses have been domesticated. So I find myself

After raiding the Snakes with High Back Bone his father bestowed a great honor to him, the name of his father, and his father before him, Crazy Horse. As his feats on the battlefield grew, so did his reputation and respect among the Lakota people. As Crazy Horse was raiding the Crows for nearly a month, the love of his heart was taken away from him by another. With his heart broken, it took a long time until he had gotten over it.

I am the daughter of a livestock dealer. My father was an amazing wrangler and rancher. Throughout my life, we have bought and sold many horses--too many to count, and I have also sent my own fair share to the slaughter plants. As a young teen I had a horse we called Whino, he was a great horse for me when I was learning to ride and wanting to follow Dad around. There comes a time in a horse’s life when they are not capable of doing what they once were or that they become sore or crippled to lead a life with meaning or comfort. I was raised to understand life and death and that one will follow the other. I knew when we had

Seven nights ago I arrived at Red Dillon’s homestead. Before sleeping that night I dined on a bowl of red chili and a cup of coffee while Red Dillon went over the agreement, he made with the agent from the reservation. After Red finished reviewing the agreement he urged me to have some more food to prepare for tomorrow's bronc riding lesson. That next day I only managed to ride two horses and before being thrown five times, but I learned how to ride with skill. Each horse has a pattern and I can gauge their pattern to find my timing and rhythm to control the broncs. By the end of the week I managed to ride two horses in succession to a complete standstill and I felt accomplished, although Red immediately set up the corral after

Unbroken horses are not bound by this concept because of the common soul that they share; however, as John Grady and Rawlins break sixteen horses, these two men witness the slow dissipation of the horses’ collective selves. Only a few people can break horses the way a true cowboy should, which is to break the horse but not the horse’s spirit (Budac 10). John Grady achieves this by engraining man’s Tanha into a horse like “a virus or a parasite” (Mundik 16). McCarthy intentionally puts John Grady, the idealist, in a position where the boy must break down the idealism of horses to parallel with John Grady’s own loss of complete

The book Zeitoun basically talks about a Syrian American family’s experience in the time of Hurricane Katrina. It was mainly divided into two story lines, one of Abdulrahman Zeitoun, the main character, a Syrian American contractor; and one of Kathy, his wife, a white woman converted Muslim. Zeitoun had an extraordinary life, also an extraordinary experience in the time of Hurricane Katrina. He was a successful well-known businessman in local area. When everyone else was fleeing their hometown before Katrina came, Zeitoun chose to stay to protect his house and business. Later then when the city was flooded, he travelled around with his small canoe, delivering help and resources. However, he was wrong

I have been riding horses for just about 7 years. My horses D. D. and I have been working together for 2 of those years and I have never had a problem with her ever. She is the most calm horse I have ever owned and worked with. Sometimes, with out a saddle or even a bridal and reins, I will run up to her and hop on her back and she doesn't spook at all. I can even put a complete stranger up to her and she will rub her head on them. She also is a junk food junky and will eat any thing from chips to crab rangoon shells to honey & apples, but she won't eat celery because that's just to healthy.

First, Buck must adapt to the other dogs’ ways. For instance, when he starts pulling the sled with his teammates he has to figure out what to watch out for. Like when Buck comes up on Sol-Leks’ blind side and Sol-leks swats at him fiercely. Second, Buck has to change how he thinks. For instance, Buck comes up with new strategies for fighting and survival.

Learning how he stops with the bit, how he responds to pressure, what he does if I approach the barrel in different ways was essential to the retraining process. The first week of retraining, I tried different bits, and not once did I approach a barrel; I wanted to observe how he stopped, how he responded to each bit. If he reacted inadequately to a bit, I didn’t want him to associate it with barrels. How he moved, how he responded to each queue that I gave him accordingly was a important part of the learning process. Slowly, but surely we started connecting, and learning together. I studied how he worked and he was learning who was in charge. Learning all of the objectives, took some time, nevertheless, we had trouble getting connected but once we did, we started figuring out how to correct our problems quickly and efficiently. After five attempts I tried something new… I pushed him as tremendously as he could run towards the first barrel, and not letting him have the time to even contemplate the thought about stopping, I wanted him to listen to my queues, “You require him listen to you, you are his brains and he is your feet, they need to be connected or you aren’t going to go anywhere,” I took me a while to figure out what Preacher’s own was trying to tell me but it finally clicked when the day we started

There have been too many times to count where a horse has taught me a lesson whether it be in the saddle or on the ground. But there are a few horses that have taught me lessons that I'll never forget. Specifically, there was one mare who was named Molly she is a twenty-year-old Saddlebred that was an ex-park horse. Like most stereotypical mares, Molly was more than just challenging to get around with on the ground and in the saddle. Under saddle as soon as you put your foot in the stirrup and pressed any weight into the stirrup you better be prepared to swing your leg over and ride because she was off at the canter or a trot. There was no such thing as a flat walk, nor did you get to choose the gait you rode, it seemed every second of

He was walking just fine, the confidence and swagger, then a jolt flew me forward. Why, he was doing so good on his third walk outside the barn. He suddenly stopped and started backing up, he wouldn’t stop. Why is he doing this? He swung his head forcing my 105 pound body skyward. There was nothing I could do but hold on and hope for the best. I hit the ground with a THUD, the rope sliding away from my hands, the calf running wild and free. Owning and training a 4-H calf is a very difficult task. You have to have many materials including; a pen, shelter, and proper nutrition. You go through times where it is hard to carry on. Feelings are something you have to overcome. It takes a lot of hard work and if someone is not willing to give it then it’s probably not for them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom running out to Kelsey. In that moment, I suddenly knew what I needed to do. With a clarity that I can’t remember having before that day, I became focused and knew what needed to be done. My mom had rushed to my sister’s side, but that had left my three year old sister, Katelyn, on her pony unattended. I quickly trotted my horse towards her, dismounted, took control of both horses, and helped Katelyn off her pony. The ambulance would soon be arriving and I had to get all the horses, including the spooked mare, into the stable. A spooked horse can be extremely dangerous if no one takes control. My task was clear. I was the one who needed to corral that mare. I swallowed my fear and approached the mare. The mare’s wide eyes told me that she was still spooked and could be unpredictable. My mom’s words came to mind, “Get in front. Take the lead.” While still holding the reins of the two other horses, I reached out and grabbed the mare’s dangling reins. With Katelyn a few steps ahead of me, I led the three hoses to their stalls. When Katelyn was safely sitting on a bench where I could see her, I still had to remove the bridles and saddles of all the horses, who could have easily rejected my awkward and inexperienced handling. The ambulance and rescue workers had now arrived, and I knew that soon my mom and Kelsey would be headed to the hospital. The responsibility for the

Just getting close enough to get the lead hooked on was the first step which proved to be very difficult most days. She was not fond of being yanked around the pasture or punished when she misbehaved. It took all my strength and sometimes a hard shoulder to the flank to get this twelve hundred pound Holstein to budge. There were a few occasions I even got drug through the mud but I would not let go, I would not let her win. The hardest thing about a cow is that they can sense your frustration and anger and they will use it against you. They know how to push your buttons just like a child. It took many months of early mornings and late nights, good days and bad, to finally get her broke. She saw my face every day and once she learned that I was the one in charge we were best

Once caught, the pony was skittish, jumping away from the fly spray and balking at loud noises. When ridden, he would not be able to stand still and would bolt at certain sensations (such as tapping the saddle). So, my instructor decided to have me try liberty work to both relax him and encourage him to think (rather than reacting to all stimuli by fleeing). After a lesson of teaching me a couple of “games” and maneuvers, I would work on the pony. Once he consistently made the desired or positive response, she [my instructor] would teach me another set of games to challenge both the pony and my skills as a trainer. While the training process is difficult, it is memorable because of the opportunities for me to both understand the reasoning for the maneuvers and to observe the progression of the pony as he becomes less