A life-changing journey in a story of love, Gus was an appaloosa gelding that became a part of my family when I was five years old. Full of mistrust fear gripped his life making it hard to trust any human. He was dangerous, kicking and biting even bucking off most of his riders. Gus couldn't be trusted. Slowly through the years a love grew. Gus and I shared a bond so strong it changed our lives forever. This is an adventurous story of learning to love, learning to give, and learning how to say good-bye.

Gus

By Rose McClimon Hamlin

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Rose McClimon Hamlin
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9954-1

Chapter One

A GIFT, A NAME, AND A HORSE

Some say in a horseman's lifetime he or she would be fortunate to meet one great horse. I was more than fortunate. My family owned a great horse. February, the year 1988 began the journey of a five year old gelding named Gus and the gift he was to me.

Gus was an appaloosa who stood fifteen point three hands high and had dark brown spots all over his hide. His spots looked more like freckles on his face and I often imagined if he were a boy he would have been about my age and would have had a face full of freckles same as me. The spots on his rump were big and dark, the color fading as he grew old. I would trace his spots with my finger while he ate his oats, or I waited for our run in the horse arenas.

Gus had big brown ears. His legs looked like he wore brown stockings pulled up to his knees and hocks all year round. His feet were big and white. He could have worn a draft size horseshoe, yet he never wore shoes, he never needed them. Shoes never would have been his style anyway.

His eyes were a soft brown that appeared sad. I used to stare into his eye and see my reflection, the same reflection I saw when I looked into the back of my breakfast spoon. Gus had a baggy bottom lip that would droop when he was relaxed. I would sometimes take my finger and dab at it watching it swing back and forth. His lip was soft and pink on the inside with long thick whiskers on his chin.

Gus became a member of our family twenty years ago. I do not remember the day he came, but I remember stories about it. One evening at the dinner table Dad announced, "A friend at work told me he knows a man that has just the horse we're looking for. We should take a drive this weekend and look at him."

"Is he an appaloosa?" Mom asked. "I would rather get that colt across the valley. He is black with a blanket of white on his hindquarters and black spots. That's the kind of horse we're looking for."

"I'm not sure of his markings, but let's go have a look at him," said Dad.

The weekend came and Mom and Dad still wanted to go look at this horse. We sisters got to go along for the ride too. I was five years old and I am the eldest of us sisters. Fiona was four years old and the middle child, and Loretta was two and the baby of the family. Fiona and I were horse crazy and Loretta was starting to show signs that she too would be just as horse crazy as her sisters.

I was excited to see this horse. I began to dream of all the fun we could have together riding in the woods and brushing his mane until he shined. I wondered what he would look like. Riding in the car I ask my sister Fiona, "I wonder what we will name him if Dad buys him?" We thought for a while, but didn't come up with many names other than Mickey Mouse, Pluto, and Donald Duck. We knew those weren't any good. After all, Mickey is a mouse, Pluto is a dog and Donald is a duck. We decided to wait for a name.

I hoped Dad would buy him. A new horse would be fun. We already had two horses. We sisters shared an old appaloosa named Polly Anna. Mom and Dad called her bomb proof. Nothing could get her excited for anything. Dad had a big red gelding named Tom.

The trip to see the horse was disappointing. I wasn't allowed out of the car. Mom and us girls sat in the car while Dad took this new horse out for a test drive. "Mom, how am I supposed to help make the decision to own this horse if I can't even get out and look at him?"

"I think Dad can handle the job. We aren't buying him for certain. Dad will make sure he rides good before we make any decisions," said Mom. I watched from the car window as Dad rode out into a field. Pine trees blocked my view and I strained to watch Dad ride away on the mystery horse. "Mom, I can't even see Dad riding the horse!"

"Settle down Rose! Dad will be back in a few minutes. Just sit back and relax," Mom huffed.

Moments later Dad came back into view. He rode back to the barn where the owner met him and they talked for what seemed like eternity. Dad's ride must have been a good one because he bought the new horse. I was super excited. I don't think Mom was as excited as I was because she told Dad our new horse was the wrong color. The colt Mom had wanted was black with a blanket of white across his hindquarters and black spots. Dad said this new horse was white with black and brown spots.

Dad brought our new horse home on Valentines Day. As Dad drove the truck and trailer into the driveway I rushed outside to finally meet our new horse. "Mom, what are we going to name him?"

"Gus," she replied. Named after Gus McCrae from the book Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, his new name fit him well. I also noticed that his spots were in fact not black at all, but mostly brown.

It was an icy cold February day and we couldn't visit outside with Gus for long. I hurried back in the house and watched Dad from the kitchen window as he took Gus on a short ride. Dad rode Gus bareback and they started up the hill in the horse pasture. The hill was icy and half way up Gus lost his footing and slid back to the bottom. After that Dad got off and Gus ran to meet his new horse friends. It was the beginning of a new journey.

Chapter Two

NO FRIEND OF MINE

I soon learned Gus was not the horse I had dreamed him to be. He was mean and knew countless dirty tricks. There were many summer days Dad and Mom would catch the horses and we would go on rides through the woods.

Our family never went on normal trail rides with groomed trails. Our family rides were scary. There were times my knuckles turned white from holding on so tightly, fearing if I loosened my grip I would fall off and be trampled under the horses hooves. It was more like we were a small family of trailblazers. Dad would pick a route and off we would ride fighting our way through thick brush. Polly Anna would plow her way through while my sister and I covered our faces and ducked down as low onto the saddle as possible to keep tree branches and brush from clawing at us.

With two of us on Polly Anna, one of us sisters would have to ride behind Mom on Gus or with Dad on Tom. Sometimes it would be my turn while Fiona and Loretta rode Polly Anna. It was scary to ride on Gus. Just when you needed him most to keep you from falling off he would throw his head or take off in his own direction leaving you feeling desperate and out of control. There were many rides I was certain we were going to fall down a steep hill and be squashed by his big spotted rump. He wouldn't have cared or even have noticed if he had squashed us. We would have been thorns out of his side.

I remember one day in particular. Dad was going to take us on a trail ride. Our local Chatfield Saddle Club was hosting a ride for horse riders who wanted to enjoy the trail. I was excited. An official ride with groomed trails and easy countryside. No steep hills to climb and descend, no enormous logs or rivers to cross either. It would be an easy day of wandering through the woods. If I had to ride behind Mom on Gus I didn't think it would be that terrible. Maybe Gus would be good today and follow along with the other horses. I hurried and got dressed. This was going to be the perfect day. Everything had to be just right. I put on my red cowgirl boots, my western shirt, and of course, my boot cut jeans. After one last look in the mirror I was out the door.

Dad was already...