FIXIN TO THROW a short story by Glenn Mosley

Hyden- December 2015

In 1959 I finally finished my obligations to the Leslie County School System, escaped the clutches of my Dad and Mom and 'took on' life as it should be, according to Me. I worked in a coal mine, drove a Taxi, drove a log truck (for a total of two days) and then teamed up with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells and headed for Utah to get rich prospecting for Uranium.

 We ended up in the Henry Mountains in the southern part of the state. I have good memories of that experience and the folks that I met there, the most notable being a sheep herder who ran his herd near our camp.

(Henry Mountains,  Utah) 

He took care of 2500 head, according to him, ( I never took the time to try to count them) and rode the most intelligent horse I'd ever seen and owned these two Border Collie's who absolutely understood sign language. I know this for a fact because he only had to 'motion' to the dog's when he wanted them to do something.

I became friends with this old man, although I don't remember his name. Thinking back, He was kinda' like Curly, in "City Slickers"

.

He was little, wiry and abrupt. He knew everything there was to know about sheep, life, and riding horses. He had this little mare that he kept in a pen near the camp trailer where he lived. He said that no one had ever ridden the mare.

One Saturday afternoon he asked me if I'd be interested in a riding lesson, said that he doubted that anyone from Kentucky would know anything about horses. I accepted his challenge.

He put a bridle on the mare, walked her out of the pen and say's, "I don't want to be responsible for getting you hurt, so I'm going to show you the way I want you to do this". With his right hand he gestured, saying, "Keep your left leg on the left side, your right leg on the right side, and your mind in the middle". He turned, mounted, and that little mare hunched her back, swallowed her neck and left the earth, never to return (or so it seemed to me) and threw him as you'd throw a rock.
He hit the ground, got up, dusted himself off and say's "OK, Kentucky, that's the way it's done. When you see they fixin' to thro' you, you gotta' get off".

A little bit of this story is a lie. Most of it ain't.

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By Glenn Mosley

Edited and Illustrated by Goliath

Note: All proceeds and profits  from the publication and distribution of this blog post will be donated to the Democratic National Party, c/o  Hillary Clinton.