Blog Tour! Guest posting!

I have turned over the reins to a guest poster today, who was kind enough to include Oh HorseFeathers! in a stop on her book tour. Author Heidi M. Thomas is a fascinating woman, with a true, deep passion that shows clearly in her writing. I have enjoyed reading her work, and talking with her tremendously, and thought that passing this gem along was well worth it! Please enjoy!

Cowgirl Grandma’s Horses

My grandmother, Olive May “Toots” Gasser, on whom I based my novel, Cowgirl Dreams, was an avid horsewoman. I have notes that she wrote about some of the horses she owned. She described them as “pals that meant so much to me.”

She wrote, “When I was a little girl about 8 years old, I longed for a horse of my own. We lived 21 miles from town, and as I remember, there was one fence between our ranch and town. There was big grass—hundreds of range horses and cattle ran all around us. I used to watch riders pass by occasionally, and one day a cowboy stopped to visit us. He gave me a ride on his horse and I’ll never forget how important I felt. Later on my dad went to the reservation and bought two dandy horses for my sister and me. I’ll never forget that horse he gave me.”

Her first horse was a sorrel with a blaze face she called Bobby (Toby in the book). She writes: “He loved to run. I took him on some long rides and when I got to school we’d sure do some racing. Dear old Bobby was such a faithful friend and I rode him too hard at times.”
One of the highlights of the week for Grandma, her four brothers and two sisters, was to brush up their ponies and ride to meet the mail stage at the post office, which was on a neighboring rancher’s place. As they waited for the stage to come in, everyone would show off their saddles, riding gear, and horses to the ranch hands. She sounded pleased that “They would take the time to talk to us kids and tell us we sure had some good horses.”

Grandma wrote that, like people, each horse had a different disposition. “Now old Blacky, for instance, was a pacing horse. I used to ride him sometimes for going to town. He sure had an easy gait… He was a big strong horse and sure covered the miles easy.”

A sorrel mare my grandmother owned was Penny, “a thoroughbred and a tall, pretty thing. She was awful independent, but gentle and wise. The thing she most loved to do was run (herd) horses. She would sure get the job done. It was all play to her.”

It seemed that Grandma must have been partial to sorrels. Another “little sorrel I called Flash was cute to ride. He’d move like lightning.”

Then there was Stranger, a part Arabian, “Beautiful and a faster walking horse I never rode. He sure savvied cows, was a great cutting horse.”

Other horses included Old Red who “was just horse, but a good one; Doc, a wonderful horse but had been spoiled. Just let your foot slip a little and he was off! He was always looking for trouble. Paint was a good pony—poor thing got caught in a bunch of wire while crossing water when we trailed horses from the Canadian line to Salmon Idaho in the 30s. He had to be shot. Punch, a short legged bay, was my pal when we lived up in the Missouri Breaks. He knew all the trails and was a good mountain horse.”

My grandparents also owned a “beautiful sorrel thoroughbred stallion, Silent Judge. He was a good traveler.” Others she mentions include Pigeon, Concho, Skeeter, and Windy River.
Windy, as she called him, was “beautiful, tough, and had lots of life, but was real touchy.” She tells that one day while riding him, she got off to open a gate. When she remounted, Windy suddenly shied to the right. “Having only one stirrup, I was all over him and he sure went wild.” Grandma was thrown off and as she fell she “heard my shoulder pop.” She walked home and had to go to the hospital 40 miles away. “I don’t think he meant to unload me,” she wrote. “I always figure the bit pinched his mouth and that set him off.”

My grandmother also had a beautiful dark chestnut mare, a hambletonian she described as “high strung and the fastest trotting horse I ever rode. She sometimes took a notion to stampede, but never did buck. I rode her in lots of races in town celebrations. She was tops, and had endurance.”

Now, here’s the fun part. My grandmother’s nickname was “Toots” or “Tootsie” and she named this mare “Nettie.” I’m sure I must have heard about this horse before I started to write my book, but I didn’t remember it until much later. I was surprised to discover I had named my main character “Nettie.” So, naturally I had to name her horse “Tootsie.”

I did have the opportunity to go riding with my grandmother on several occasions. My grandparents found my first horse for me, a Welsh-Shetland cross named “Money.” But he was a stubborn little cuss, and being only eight years old, I couldn’t make him do anything. When Grandma jumped on his back one day, he started bucking. That was the last I saw of Money. My next horse was a beautiful roan, Strawberry, an older, very gentle horse just perfect for a little girl who didn’t have that “old-time rodeo cowgirl” disposition.

Join me tomorrow on Carol Buchanan’s blog http://www.swanrange.blogspot.com/ Please leave a comment of substance and after my tour concludes, I’ll put your name in a drawing for some nifty prizes. For a complete list of my tour stops, go to
http://heidiwriter.wordpress.com/my-blog-tour/

Many Thanks to Heidi for her article, and the fantastic pictures she included! I highly endorse her book. I had a tough time tearing myself away from it!