The Grey Horse Chronicles - Clyde's Story

I made myself a promise about 11 years ago, that I would find myself a really nice, broke, and handy gelding that I could crawl on without "my arse cheeks puckering". I was living alone and needed something that I didn't need to work up the courage to ride whenever I wanted or needed to. So along came Clyde. He was big, like 16 hands big and he was handy and broke and smart and kind and so damn honest. Oh and he was grey, steel grey when he first arrived and whiter as the years went by. I couldn't have ever asked for a nicer horse to come into my life and stay for a time.

I was out in what I have come to lovingly refer to as the Old Country (Manitoba) helping at a barrel racing clinic when I very first met him. My friend Rusty said I needed to own him, Infact, she told me to just march right over there and tell Cathy she should sell him to me. Well, I didnt exactly do that, but I did plant the seed and one day the phone rang and he was offered to me with the stipulation that if ever was to be sold he would come right back home. I promised that would be the case and knowing how much he as loved there I will forever be grateful that Cathy trusted me with him.

Next, we set about figuring how he would travel across three provinces to be my house. Much like the pony express mail, he caught a ride to Herbert Rodeo with some trusted friends and then came to Wainwright with the rodeo stock and then I travel the 2 hours to get him home.

And that is how our journey began and he was with me for 11 years. Then this September he coliced and there were no gut sounds and he left me. I know every horse person has that special one. Clyde was not my first special horse, but he dang sure holds a big place in my heart and always will. I am a horse keeper, I know this about myself, so I am very aware of who I bring home as they are lifers.

Me and Clyde did so many things together, from chasing cows, to carrying a flag at Winston Bruce's funeral to being lifted off the ground when a yearling ran under us. He never ever faltered and he kept me safe. He was a asshole to haul, always looking out both sides of the trailer, you'd look back to see his nose out the side as he smelled the air. The first time I hauled him alone, I stopped three times thinking he must be upside down ... but no, he was just looking around. Carrying that flag at Winston's funeral was the first and only time we did that, and it was in the dark in a spot light with cowboys with lighters in the arena and a huge screen with the Canadian flag flashing across it. It was like he'd been doing it for years, There are many more Clyde stories and I expect he will find his way on many more pages as this blog evolves.

Clyde is my "why", Calling my blog The Grey Horse Chronicles means he gets to live on and he gets to be part of many lives. Hopefully my stories bring peace and understanding. Maybe make you think a little and honor the four-leggeds, be they bucking horses, or high end performance horses, or the little pasture pony down the road. They all have a story to tell. Come join me on this journey and lets see where the road takes us.