I’ve always had to stretch my legs when climbing to the saddle. And now my age is telling me, “Each time you’ll have a battle.”
You see I stand at five feet three, a product of my source. So, tell me why I always seem to ride a danged tall horse.
I’ve watched my father ride a horse. His choice was tall as well. He always mounted from the ground, as far as I could tell.
And even though his age has kept him down, but mostly sound, he says, “I’ll ride a tall horse till I’m six feet in the ground.”
I’ve used a stump so many times, for sure a rock or two. And now I wonder should I place extensions on each shoe?
I might as well sport high heels. I’d be the laughing stock. I guess I’m not clear thinking ‘cuz those cowboys sure would talk.
Last week I hung a strap down low with a stirrup at the end. So I’d have an extra foothold to climb up and then descend.
But the strap and extra stirrup snagged a sagebrush, ‘bout midday. I had tied it to the back cinch, tore the strap and cinch away.
My wife said, “Try some yoga. You can learn to stretch a limb.” But hanging out with Rodney Gee, the chance is mighty slim.
I’ve heard that camels kneel to help their riders to the seat. If Pal would learn to bend a knee, that’d sure enough be sweet.
But Pal ain’t gonna kneel on down to help someone get saddled. There ain’t no clear solutions and I’ve never been this rattled!
So once again I find myself back at the drawing board. I’d welcome your ideas that I haven’t yet explored.
And if you see me leading Pal, well off the beaten track. I’m not walking for the exercise, just can’t climb on his back.