Blanket Destruction

His whole life, Corey had thought that anyone who blanketed a horse in the winter had to be a dude. And then one fall, his dad had purchased a colt that he wanted to campaign the following spring in the Working Cowhorse class. So they kept that colt up and blanketed all winter. His dad had taken great pains to teach Corey the proper way to put on and remove the blanket from his valuable steed.
“Start here in front with the chest buckles, then fasten the girth strap, then do the leg strap on your side, and finally step behind him and fasten the other leg strap” Corey’s dad had instructed. “Then when you take it off, go exactly opposite of that. Back leg strap off side, back leg strap this side, girth strap, and do the chest buckles last. Now . . . be careful not to spook him when putting it on, or pulling it off. Do it SLOWLY—or he might just jump and kick you!”
“Ok” Corey said. And from then on, he had always blanketed the horse in exactly that way and never encountered a problem.
Now . . . fast forward to the present.
Corey’s college-aged daughter came home for Christmas and brought her crazy barrel horse with her. She blanketed that sucker religiously, and Corey noticed that her horse blanket had seen its better days.
“Daddy” she would sweetly scold Corey, “you don’t have a box stall for him and it’s COLD out here on the ranch . . . just blanket him for me, ok?” Corey reluctantly agreed. In fact—he bought his daughter a brand new horse blanket for Christmas!
On New Year’s Eve, the family had friends over and they laughed and sang and played games and watched movies until the wee hours of the morning, ringing in the New Year proper. The next morning, everyone slept in—except Corey, that is. A ranch cowboy all of his life, Corey woke up at 5 am every morning no matter what . . . and today was no different. He fixed a pot of coffee, went out and started the feed wagon so it could warm up, and trudged off to the corral to feed that danged barrel horse just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. “It was going to be a good day” Corey thought, “I hope it’s a good year!”
Now, Corey didn’t particularly care for his daughter’s barrel horse. He was goofy actin’. You know . . . kind’a crazy. Quite frankly, Corey wouldn’t ride him if someone GAVE HIM to him—you know the type of horse I’m talking about, ‘cuz I see some of you noddin’ yer head. But his daughter liked him, so Corey kept his mouth shut.
He gave the knucklehead some grain, then tossed over some hay. While “‘ol Scamper” was busy eating, Corey thought, “I’ll just slip in there and remove his blanket for the day.” Doing it just the way his daddy had taught him, Corey slipped around to the back and removed the off back leg strap, then got the other back leg strap, moved forward and got the girth strap . . . and then all Hell broke loose. You see, right about then ‘ol Blackjack, Corey’s blue heeler dog, spied the barn cat and gave chase—and wouldn’t you know—the stupid cat ran right under that barrel horse’s nose!
‘Ol mush-for-brains snorted, stomped, wheeled and mule kicked! Corey barely had time to duck and tuck his head in his hands as he felt the ‘whoosh’ of two hind feet passing dangerously close to his head! The first thing that flashed through Corey’s mind was, “Ut-oh—that blanket is still hooked in front!
Too late—that crazy barrel horse had already bucked clear across the pen, bounced off’a the fence, and was heading back! The blanket had stayed in place across the pen, but when ‘ol knucklehead did the wheel-back on the fence, the blanket whirled around and hung like an oversized bandanna—or neck rag—from the horse’s neck. Now in a state of panic, the horse was bucking AND pawing back across the pen RIGHT TOWARDS COREY! The cowboy knew better than to wait and see what happened—he broke and ran for the fence, throwing himself to the ground and rolling under the bottom rail just as the crazed horse crashed into the fence above him!
Corey sat up, unhurt, just in time to see the horse rear up, pawing at the whirling blanket, and launch himself high into the air. Corey was amazed at how high the horse flew before he came crashing down, flat on his side—KAWOOF! You could hear the air forced out of his lungs as he hit—HARD. “OH NO” Corey thought, “HE COMMITTED SUICIDE!”
But no such luck. The horse groaned, shook his head, and struggled to his feet. Corey could see that the new blanket was already torn in multiple places when the crazed horse began bucking and pawing again, making numerous circles around the corral. Small chunks of blanket starting flying in the air and landing all around the pen.
The dust hung thick and heavy when the horse finally stopped, head down, neck and butt cheeks lathered, sides heaving, standing on quivering legs in the middle of the pen. All that was left of Corey’s daughter’s Christmas present was hanging in shreds around his neck, chest buckles still fastened.
“MY NEW BLANKET!” his daughter screeched as she appeared out of nowhere, suddenly standing next to him.
“Well,” Corey said, “it WAS a blanket. Now your barrel horse has a new neck warmer!” And with that, Corey went to the pickup, whistled for the dog, and drove off to feed some cows.

BARREL HORSE: $10,000
HORSE BLANKET FOR CHRISTMAS: $150
HAVING DAUGHTER HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS: Priceless!


. . . and now let’s answer an e-mail from one of our valued readers . . .

Dear Hickey,
I want to train my pony to run barrels, but I only have 2 barrels! What do you suggest?
Need a plan, Peggy in Can, Ada.

Dear Nita Can Peg,
Become a bull rider. Ha! They only need 1 can—and the clown hides in that! Besides . . . your horse could pony-up your entry fees! Ha-Ha! Ok. Enough of that. Seriously—do you have a little brother? If so, make him be the third barrel, and every time your pony hits him, scream, “THAT’LL TEACH YA TA STAY OUTTA’ MY ROOM!” Or perhaps you have a dog? Set him in a tree, and have THAT combination be the third barrel. That way, the dog’ll BARK every time your pony gets too close, thus teaching your pony that hitting the third barrel is barking up the wrong tree! Or if worse comes to worse, just train your pony on TWO barrels, draw out of the rodeo, and enter the gymkhana! They call it the Figure 8 Race. You can usually only win ribbons . . . but entry fees are low! And once you’ve won enough ribbons—perhaps you could use them to feed a goat—and train your pony for goat tying! Whoopie! You’re back to rodeo!
And Yer Welcome, Hickey


. . . and now, some QUESTIONS FOR THE UNIVERSE TO PONDER . . .

***Can a horse blanket get loud enough to be heard?

***Isn’t “college vacation” an oxy-moron?

***Did Sioux Indian chief Crazy Horse ever run barrels?

***Did Adam ever know New Year’s Eve?

***If a horse bucks over a black bird . . . is he crow hopping?

***Do New Year’s resolutions result in a clearer picture?

***If you get married at midnight on December 31st, are you ringing in the New Year?

***If you’re in the bathroom at midnight on New Year’s Eve, are you a party pooper?