Riding Toro to my House

Three girls riding in a row on Toro’s back. Falling like a giggling ribbon across his side. Hitting the ground with a bounce and climbing back on. I was ten. My cousins and our friends would ride our horses back and forth between our houses along the railroad tracks. Halfway between my house and my cousins’ house lived Dawn and Darlene Trokey. Robin lived next door to Dawn and Darlene.

Robin had a weedy barn sour sorrel mare. Darlene had Toro and Dawn had Go Eastern A Go Go. We called him GoGee. I can remember being at the Trokey’s house and being told that we could ride to my house on their horses if we put a saddle on GoGee. GoGee’s withers were two-feet higher than the tops of our heads. We watched as Dawn came at GoGee with a 16-inch western equitation saddle lifted over her head and then resting it on the barrel of the dappled grey gelding as he just stood there. Several times, she pushed the saddle up and it shoved the woven saddle blanket off his back. “We don’t need the blanket. Do we?”

“He’ll get a saddle sore.”

“It’s not that far.”

We made sure the D-ring was buckled in worn latigo hole. Then we had to catch Toro. Which would now be easy, because Gogee was saddled and tied. Problem was Toro was taller than Gogee, and he refused to open his mouth, so we put him in a hackamore. At some point, Dawn and Darlene’s father, Frank, came out and helped us.

He lifted Darlene, Stacy and me on to Toro’s bareback. Toro had a fused hock. The only real gaits he possessed were walk and canter. If we were lucky, we could get him into a canter from the walk. That only occurred during the homeward side of our ventures. His wooden-legged trot sent us tumbling to the ground.

We had just crossed the railroad tracks, and Dawn insisted that we lope down the swath of the open dirt easement. Once we were off, we were off and had to find a high spot so that we could step up on to Toro.

Dawn trotted down to a bridge and told us to walk Toro down to the bridge. We pulled him to the stack of railroad ties. All three of us with a hand tugging on the lead rope, we pulled in a row like a team of tug-of-war players moving Toro one step at a time. He was old and knew we had no power. He would slowly place his front legs out in a halting way so that he looked like his leg was the switch the railroad man pulled to switch the direction of the tracks. His knee never bending in its forward motion always stiff and straight as his shoulder rolled over the top of the leg and the next stiff leg would be lifted forward. But, because he wanted to be with Gogee he would go. Ever trying to convince Gogee not to go. But Gogee loved the trail and he didn’t care if Toro came or stayed behind. GoGee was looking for the ride.

Darlene climbed on. Stacy climbed on. I climbed on. I can remember lying on top of Toro’s rump and cupping my palms on his hip bones with my feet dangling with his tail.
We made it down the tracks to the turn off to my street. We had made it. I could here my Rio nickering from across the open pasture between us. Calling out to members of the herd.