Ricky The Cool Cowboy

My son Ricky grew up around horses. He’s worked with us at the ranch since he was fourteen years old. He’s an excellent rider and accompanied us for years on every trail ride and pack trip. Whenever someone needed assistance on the trail, Ricky maneuvered his horse with such skill he was at their side within seconds. It didn’t matter where we were; on the side of a mountain or in a river, nothing stood in his way when someone needed a hand.

When Ricky was a teenager, he felt it important to maintain his “cool cowboy” persona. Not that he needed to prove anything. He was and still is an excellent horseman, and may I add as a doting mother, he’s now an Equine Surgeon. Yes, we’re extremely proud of him but back to the story.

I’ll never forget one special weekend in Autumn when the weather was cool and crisp. Our good friend John visited every year with his friends around this time.

We had returned from a long three-hour ride. A tall, large woman by the name of Rachel slumped in her saddle the minute her horse stopped at the hitching pole. Her body weary, she wanted nothing more than to get off her horse.

We always assist people when mounting or dismounting but Rachel began to dismount before my husband Raul, or Ricky could get to her. She later told us she was so tired she thought it easier to slide down off the horse rather than make the effort of dismounting correctly.

While on the downslide, her blouse caught on the saddle horn. She stood suspended on her tippy toes…