I wake up early and wonder how cold it is outside it's plenty chilly in here now that the fire in the woodburner has died down to coals. I reach into my union suit and wrap my hand around my piss hard and think about doing something with it but it's cold and I know that the horses are awake and ready. I slide my boots on over the legs of my long-johns without any pants (I like the feel of the horse between my legs) and pull on a beat up old coat that I ordered out of the Sears and Roebuck Catalog. I open up the front door and look out at the fields and trees around my house. As far as I see its just me and the stock that I've picked up here and there, nothing fancy just a good piece of flesh that has caught my attention. I'm not much interested in purebreds I like an animal with spirit a little wild something in his eyes. When you look at them and they look back and you know it's going to be a challenge to break em, that's the ones I want. Sometimes I piss right off the front porch there, how's that for a "good mornin world" but often as not I piss against the side of the barn, You can hear the horses stirrin as they get wind of it and know I'm on the way.

I open the door and they are expectant you can smell it in the air. More often than not they've got a build up from the night before and are rarin to let go a good steady stream too but I'm never in a hurry, It's not good to spoil your animals too much. My favorite is a sandy colored thing. He's honery but you can tell by looking in his eyes that he just needs a little guidance. Well maybe more than a little...

He's still down in the hay when I reach his stall and his eyes are shut although I know damn good and well he's awake so I nudge him in the balls with the toe of my old boot. Still nothing from the little peckerhead (I told you he was stubborn) so I draw my foot back and give it to him nice and solid nothing dangerous but enough to give him a fine good morning and get him up on his feet. Now that his eyes are wide open and he's raring to go I reach for the bridle and bit hanging on the tack shelf right above his head.

This is a fine old piece of hardware the silver of the bit is worn to grey from the chomping teeth of so many mouths and the leather is old and worn but still strong. I put this in first to let the animal know who the boss is and keep him quiet, then I rub his head to let him know he's being good.

Next comes the saddle and halter that goes over his shoulders and fastens again underneath to keep the saddle from sliding. I like to step back and look at this point. The high round ass raising up and out behind the saddle the teeth pulled back from the bit the stirrups hanging down on either side of my horse, my animal standing there waiting for me to climb on and nudge him out into the pasture.

But there is one more piece of equipment left so I reach up onto the shelf next to the saddle soap and the bag balm and pull down a pair of worn silver spurs push them tight up onto the heels of my boots and belt them around front. I run one spur up the barn wall not somuch to make sure it's tight but so he can hear the noise. I watch his stomach tighten and his head raise slightly at the sound and then reach down and grab the reigns one on either side of his head. One more kick in the balls just to tell him who's boss. I know this old knucklehead.

It always feels good to sink down into the saddle, feeling the leather with nothing between it and me but my longjohns. I nudge him in the sides with my legs and turn him out the stall door and then give him the spurs as we head out of the barn. A few slaps on the ass with the reigns is all he needs and he's going good and steady. This ones got spunk like I said I'm not looking for a thoroughbred just something with a little fire.

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