Just got home from the horse sale, picked up a couple of geldings that ought to do a fine job with the cows.
Once the second one was bought, we left. I was afraid I'd come home with three instead of the two max I'd given myself before I ever went.
My name is Farmgirl, and I'm addicted to horses.
There, I said it. Its an expensive addiction, and just like any other, once you break down and feed it once, its hard to stop. Especially when you've got two, and are thinking of that four-horse trailer half empty.
Anyway, we came home with one little grade gelding, and one bigger AQHA registered gelding. The registered boy is good bloodlines, lines we like, and watching him during his warm up out in the pens before the sale, well, it was a thing of beauty. Course, once he got in the ring, he got kind of panicky, but he'd never been to town before, so thats understandable.
Besides... it kept the price down for us.
The little grade gelding is a short little sucker, but stocky, well built, and real personable. Both of em have just crackerjack personalities, couldn't ask for better.
We got out of the horse sale for under a thousand dollars. Yeah. I think today, the way I dressed, I looked younger... so I had an advantage. None of them tough old leathery ranchers wanted to take the horse away from the cute young lady who was so excited about it.
Horse sales are exciting. There's a lot of sadness to them, when the old, broken down, or lamed up ponies come gimping through the ring, and sometimes I want to find the previous owners and beat them senseless, because the problems that cause the horse to go for slaughter would have been preventable if they'd just given it a little effort.
But there's a lot of excitement to it, too......
The gate opens, and in trots a nice little sorrel, well conformed, brushed, and with an attitude that says "I'm too good for all of you!"
The auctioneer's assistant reads off an impressive pedigree, and then the excitement starts.
The ring men work the horse in a circle, showing off his movement, and he keeps his head up, eyes on the crowd, as the auctioneer rattles off numbers and nonsense almost faster than you can hear it.
The colt stops, center ring, as if he's posing, and stares out at the crowd with proud eyes. Not wild, he doesn't mind people, but he knows all that attention and noise is for him, and he plays to it.
The bidding is fierce, the ring men begin to call out as they see bids... its a three way... no, four way battle. Everyone is determined to take this pretty boy home.
Down front, actually front row center, is a thin young woman, in a tank top, and faded jeans. She's sitting on her hands, and she has an intense, yet wistful look on her face. She knows she can't take this one home... he's just turned two, and he's not broke to ride, and she just can't afford it.
She has eyes only for the horse, and hears nothing of the auctioneer's babble until he prances out of the ring, and she can breathe again.
She takes her hands out from under her, and eyes the welts that the slatted seat has left.
Ah, well. They'll get worse before its over.