In one of the Longmire novels, Henry (or maybe it was Walt) says that the Cheyenne rode Appaloosas into battle because they hated those horses so much they'd be ready to fight anyone by the time they got there.
When I was a young pup I was at my uncles house in Ky. and just as I was getting on the paint horse he had it turned his head and bit me on the thigh, best I can recall it hurt like hell and I screamed like a banchee.
My uncle was standing there and the horse didn't drop like in the movie but he hit the horse hard dead between eyes with his fist kinda like Mongo in the movie Blazing Saddles.........don't think I've even thought about getting on a horse since.
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Did he get up and bite the horse back?
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I got bit once on our farm. Once.
Appaloosa’s are pretty horses but I know nothing about the temperaments of different breeds, or much about horses in general. Except that when you grow up in Olustee OK there is always someone with a horse around. They were all pretty much quarter horses, as far as I know, at least back then.
Yep it hurts. My stepdad bought a Shetland that was a biter.When I was a young pup I was at my uncles house in Ky. and just as I was getting on the paint horse he had it turned his head and bit me on the thigh, best I can recall it hurt like hell and I screamed like a banchee.
My uncle was standing there and the horse didn't drop like in the movie but he hit the horse hard dead between eyes with his fist kinda like Mongo in the movie Blazing Saddles.........don't think I've even thought about getting on a horse since.
View attachment 272946
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My mom had a horse when she was a kid, but she wanted nothing to do with livestock after she left home to go to college (and still doesn’t). Her dad preferred mules, so that’s as close to horses as I got when I was young.
I have a couple of nieces who could probably tell you a lot about horses, but watching them take riding lessons and talking to their teacher is about the only practical knowledge I have of equines.
Well, that, and Louis Lamour novels.
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When I was in high school I was working at a horse ranch for a while.
Part of the daily chores was stall cleaning. There was one eyed, old brood mare that was mostly pretty easy to get along with is you didn't accidently sneak up on her blind side. She'd whip here head around to see what was sneaking up on here and if you were close enough she'd knock hell out of you.
She also had a habit of coming up behind you while your were raking the stall and try to bite you on the shoulder. About the 3rd time she got me I laid the handle of the manure fork dead between her eyes (ok, between the eye and the empty eye socket) hard enough to get her attention. She never tried that with me again.
Part of the daily chores was stall cleaning. There was one eyed, old brood mare that was mostly pretty easy to get along with is you didn't accidently sneak up on her blind side. She'd whip here head around to see what was sneaking up on here and if you were close enough she'd knock hell out of you.
She also had a habit of coming up behind you while your were raking the stall and try to bite you on the shoulder. About the 3rd time she got me I laid the handle of the manure fork dead between her eyes (ok, between the eye and the empty eye socket) hard enough to get her attention. She never tried that with me again.
Never knew one that wasn't
back when I was 17 or 18 I was working cleaning horse stalls for a lady. One of her retired thoroughbreds was pretty nice, in sharp contrast to the rest of them. If you scratched his neck just right, he would wiggle his upper lip around. if you played your cards right, you could scratch his neck, and he would rub your shoulder with his lip. not a bad trade. except one day when I was doing this while in there cleaning his stall, and he decided to bite me on the trapezius muscle. Big bite. man, that hurt. I had my "learning stick" on me, which was just a broken lunge whip about 3 feet long. He never did that again.
When I was around age 11, I used to steal a ride on the neighbor's horse and one time it kicked me in the leg and spun me around on a barb wire fence, tore my new shirt up which I was so proud of and I still today at 78 carry the scars from that fence. I was lucky the horse didn't break my leg and I never messed with that horse again!
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