He is a seven year old Saddlebred gelding and is not only the class of my pasture but today became a genuine equine hero.
CrackerJack has always been an "all eyes on me" kinda fella. From the day he arrived here as a yearling just seperated from his mother he has always had a keen affection for the attention of humans. When I was teaching him to maintain and extend his gaits (he is a naturally five-gaited horse) I had no trouble keeping him in any selected gait so long as there was someone to see him perform. He's fairly polished now and is one very smooth operator. I have the sense he knows he looks good in his gaits as when eyes are on him his tail raises, his head comes up and starts that in-the-groove side to side nod. To call him "flashy" just doesn't do him justice.
Now CrackerJack has always been "my" horse. We spent a lot of time together in the early stages riding everyday so he would learn to trust humans and become bomb-proof. It's safe to say we're buds. In fact he loves me. There's not a doubt in my mind.
He'll let others ride him, but he goes his own way, argues with the bit, and seems to always let them "ride" him to where his muzzle is snuggled under my arm. Breaks my heart. This has always been the case. Until today.
Ya' see my youngest daughter is still nursing a heavy heart from the loss of her best pony friend , Fancy, back in December and today I convinced her to let me saddle CrackerJack up and lead him with her on him. Don't get me wrong, Isabella would saddle and ride bulls if I had 'em, but CrackerJack has a very high energy level - what I call a "Big Motor" and can be intimidating.
I rode him a bit to take the edge off and hoisted Isabella into the saddle for some direction on just how to drive the Ferrari. No jerks on the reins, smooth pulls across his neck, a little goes a long way, relax, sit up straight, shoulders back, look where you want to go, just tap him with the whip so he'll know you mean business.
CrackerJack was not impressed. This is, after all, the work of mares mules, and plowhorses, but as I led them around the ring a few times I could tell Isabella was relaxing, finding her seat on the bigger horse. CrackerJack was still not impressed.
"Feel like takin' him around by yourself now?"
"Sure." Whap! those cowboy booted heels came down in earnest and CrackerJack moved out, head down, sulky and balkin', but Isabella brooked no dissention and gradually, together, they worked out a communication. Two times around the ring and the heavy-hearted girl and the center-ring saddlebred become as one.
Two more perfect laps around the ring and she pulled up next to me. CrackerJack stuck his nose under my arm, but not to hide it this time. His ears were up and forward, his eyes bright. Isabella had a grin stretched all across her face and said, "Daddy, when can I start sayin' cuss words?"
"Never, Isabella. Ladies don't talk like that."
"Why not? 'cause I'm soo happy I could just yell out a cuss word! You know, like Woo!Hoo!.. and a cuss word."
I loved up on CrackerJack and patted my daughter's leg as she hugged CrackerJack's neck. I walked to the other side of the ring and looked back to see Isabella layed back over the saddle with her head on his rump. The Big Motor Saddlebred stood. Still as a stone. My Hero.
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