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Funny equine anecdotes


Over the years on the internet, I have had many funny stories forwarded to me. I have included any copyright info as forwarded, if no copyright info is shown, and you know the original author, please email me so I can give credit where credit is due!!!


To those horses (and you know who you are!)who have no clue what dressage means.... we dedicate the following test:

THE AMAZING NEW DRESSAGE TEST

For Horses Unsuitable to Become Anything

A Enter at ordinary serpentine.
X Sprawl. Salute.

C Stop dead. Stare in horror at judge and shy to left.
Continue at ordinary working gallop.

E Stagger left 20 or 15 or 22 metres in diameter circle or pear shape or five pointed star. Avoid excessive crossing of legs.

K Begin to halt.
Z Keep trying.
F You can do it.
B Pulley rein. Give up. Continue at out of hand gallop.

H Regain right stirrup. Continue at ordinary trot, bouncing.

MKT Change rein. Free walk loose rein. Remove horse from Judge's luncheon table. Ask judge for leg up.
Jump back into ring.

Z Turn down centre line.
Halt. Grin. Scratch. Burst into tears. Leave arena on long reins, loose language.


Here's a great funny, breed specific, on how many horses it takes to change a lightbulb...

HOW MANY HORSES DOES IT TAKE TO CHANGE A LIGHT BULB?

WARMBLOOD: "Light bulb? What light bulb?"

ANY FOAL: "Ah, come on Mom...the sun is shining, the day is young, we've got our whole lives ahead of us, and you're inside worrying about a stupid burned-out light bulb?"

THOROUGHBRED: It takes just one (and he'll rewire the whole barn).

SHETLAND PONY: "I can't reach the stupid lamp."

SADDLEBRED: "Sorry, I just had my hooves and mane done."

MORGAN: "Oh, oh, me, me! Pleeease let me change the light bulb! Can I, can I? I promise I won't break this one!"

QUARTER HORSE: "I'd be happy to help you with that! I can fit it in between cutting and Hunter Under Saddle. Oh, wait...I have trail at noon and Western Pleasure class at 2:00. Let's see...no, no, I have Pleasure Driving at 4:30 and Reining at 6:00. Then, the trainer needs me for a lesson with a new Walk-Jogger tonight at 8:00. I know: Just leave it by my stall and I'll do it at 4:00 am, just before my bath for the Halter class."

TRAKEHNER: "Light bulb? Light bulb? That thing I just ate was a light bulb?"

HOLSTEINER: "How DARE that light bulb burn out! How DARE you ask me to change it!! OH!!" (Flouncing off)

APPALOOSA: "No, don't change it! If it's dark, maybe no one will see me raiding the feed room."

ANDALUSIAN: "Let the maid do it. That's what we pay the help for.

CLYDESDALE: Och, and ye'll just be usin' up the 'lectricity, ye' will, better tae use a wee bit of candle... better yet tae not waste either and just gae tae sleep when the sun gaes doon...'lectricity is verra dear."

ARABIAN: (fidgeting all the while) "Lights? Lights? Where? Do you want me to pose? This is my good side...no, wait, let me get my mane straight...no, wait, this angle is all wrong. No wait, maybe this is my good side. Do you want dramatic...or bold..or maybe sensitive..."

SHIRE: (Yawn) "Who cares?"


This is my favorite story I have ever gotten off the internet. Those of you with horses will certainly understand why....

From a horse nutrition site.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, I knew there had to be a downside to beet pulp, and thought it only fair that I pass it on . . . This afternoon I decided to bring some beet pulp pellets into the house to soak, because I wanted to get an idea of the % volume they expanded during soaking. Researchers are like that, pathetically easy to amuse and desperately in need of professional help. So I trundled in a bucket, about three pounds of beet pulp, added in the water and set it in the living room to do its thing. No problem. Science in the making.

Well, one thing I don't think I've mentioned before is that in my ongoing quest to turn this house into Noah's Ark, we have not only four horses, two dogs, three house cats plus Squeaky the barn cat, a sulfur-crested cockatoo, a cockatiel and assorted toads: we also have William, a fox squirrel who absent-mindedly fell out of his tree as a baby a year or so ago, and got handed off by my vet to the only person he knew silly enough to traipse around with a baby squirrel and a bottle of Esbilac in her book-bag. Being no dummy, William knew a sucker when he saw one and has happily been an Urban Squirrel ever since.

And for those of you that think A Squirrel's Place is In The Wild, don't think we didn't try that. Last year at Christmas, we thought we'd give him his first lesson in Being a Wild Squirrel, by letting him play in the undecorated Christmas tree. His reaction was to shriek in horror, scutter frantically across the floor, and go try to hide underneath the nearest border collie. Since then, the only way he will allow himself to be taken outside is hiding inside Mummy's shirt and peering suspiciously out at the sinister world. So much for the remake of Born Free!

Anyway, when I set out the bucket of beet pulp, I may have underestimated thelengths that a young and enthusiastic squirrel will go to stash all availablefood items in new and unusual hiding spots. I thought letting William out ofhis cage as usual and giving him a handful of almonds to cram under cushionsand into sleeping dogs' ears was sufficient entertainment for the afternoon.

After all, when I left, he was gleefully chortling and gloating over his pileof treasure, making sure the cockatoo saw them so he could tell her "I have Almonds And You Don't." Sigh. So much for blind optimism.

Well, apparently when the almond supply ran out, beet pulp pellets became fair game. I can only imagine the little rat finding that great big bucket and swooning with the possibilities of being able to hide away All That Food!

The problem isn't quite so much that I now have three pounds of beet pulp pellets cleverly tucked away in every corner of my house. It's that as far as I can tell, the soaking-expanding-and-falling-apart process seems to be kinda like nuclear meltdown. Once the reaction gets started, no force on earth is going to stop it. So when I happily came back from the grocery store, not only do I find an exhausted but incredibly fulfilled squirrel sprawled out snoozing happily up on the cat tree, I find that my house smells like a feed mill. Virtually every orifice is crammed full of beet pulp. This includes the bathroom sink, the fish tank filter, my undie drawer, the kitty box (much to their horror) and ALL the pockets of my book-bag. I simply can't WAIT to turn on the furnace and find out what toasting beet pulp smells like.

The good news is that in a case of siege, I have enough carbohydrates hidden in my walls and under the furniture to survive for years. The bad news is that as soon as I try to remove any of the Stash, I get a hysterical squirrel clinging to my pant leg, tearfully shrieking that I'm ruining all his hard work and now he's going to starve this winter. (This despite the fact that William is spoiled utterly rotten, knows how to open the macadamia nut can all by himself and has enough of a tummy to have earned him the unfortunate nickname Buddha Belly.)

So, in case anyone was losing sleep wondering just how much final product you get after soaking three pounds of beet pulp, the answer is a living room full. I'd write this new data up and submit it as a case study paper to the nutrition and physiology society, but I suspect the practical applications may be limited.

Off I go, to empty the Shop Vac. Again.


(Sung to the tune of Janis Joplin's OH LORD WON'T YOU BUY ME A MERCEDES BENZ)

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that bends
My friends all ride warmbloods
I must make amends.
I practice my leg yields
Each evening 'til ten
Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that bends.

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that won't buck
I'm tired of trying
To land standing up
I spend all my time
Brushing dirt off my butt
Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that won't buck

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that won't bite
I count all my fingers
And toes every night
I feel like a carrot
When I'm in his sight
So oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that won't bite.

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that stays clean
I brush him, I groom him,
I've considered chlorine
His color's too chestnut
For a horse with gray genes
Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse that stays clean.

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
A horse with some guts
This spooking and shying
is driving me nuts
And while You are at it
Make me less of a klutz
Oh Lord, won't you buy me
a horse with some guts

Oh Lord, won't you give him
some hindquarter drive
This horse is sooo lazy
not sure he's alive
We bend and we circle
'til way, way past five
Oh Lord, won't you give him
some hindquarter drive

Oh Lord, won't you buy me
a horse that won't break,
He's throwing his horseshoes
they've sunk in the lake,
I constantly worry,
Antacids I take
Oh Lord, won't you buy me
a horse that won't break.

Author Unknown


YOUR HORSES ARE ON FIRE

Baron Tayler

Published in ANVIL Magazine, August 1993

Much as I love shoeing horses, my business interests have led me to design, patent, and manufacture machinery for farmers who work with draft animals.

Since the farmers and teamsters who use my machine work with draft animals almost exclusively, I acquired a few Percherons. They're the kindest, gentlest, most easygoing creatures on earth, but owning them created a problem for me. I had only ten acres of pasture; that's a little more than three acres a horse - hardly enough to feed three 1800-pound horses year 'round without haying.

Luckily, a nearby farmer has a large pasture that he hasn't used since he retired. I moseyed over and asked if I could use the pasture for the Percherons during the winter when I'd run out of grass. You should have seen his cataract-clouded eyes light up! He told me he'd just turned 91 years old and had mourned the day he had sold his last team and converted to tractors. Yes, he said, he'd love to have the horses in his pasture.

October rolled around, and the horses finally ate the last stalk of grass in their field. I walked them down the road and let them into the large pasture which was knee deep in lush forage. They were in horsey heaven.

January arrived, and the horses had grown long, thick winter coats. The weather had been cold, but little in the way of snow. The field had a clump of trees in the middle and when it snowed, the horses snuggled up under a huge pine and slept.

With the first big snow came trouble. I was sitting at the breakfast table when the phone rang. It was a lady who lived in a house next to the pasture. She wanted to know if I owned the big horses. I told her that I did and asked her if there was something wrong. "The horses have no building to go into to get out of the snow," she said. I explained that they had the big trees to stand under, and that their dense coat was an excellent insulator. I assured her that the horses were quite comfortable. Semi-satisfied, she let me return to breakfast.

The following day the woman called back, and in a firm voice told me she was sure the horses were cold. I asked her how she knew this. "Because they look cold," she replied. "And, in what way do they look cold?" I countered. Silence. Not a word for 30 seconds. Finally, she said, "I just know they're cold!" "Okay, okay," I replied, "Why don't you meet me in the pasture in five minutes and, if the horses are cold, I'll take them into a barn." She agreed.

We met five minutes later. "Will they hurt me?" she asked. "Do they kick or bite?" It started to dawn on me that this woman was a busybody do-gooder who knew absolutely nothing about horses. With time on her hands, she probably decided that my horses needed rescuing and appointed herself their savior.

Just then one of the horses dropped a big, steaming pile of manure on the snow. She stood looking at it, quite puzzled. "What's wrong?" I asked. No reply at first. Then she said, "Why isn't the horse standing in the pile?" "Why would he do that?" I asked. "Because it would keep his feet warm," she replied. That snapped it! I was trying to talk logically with a certified nut case! I left her standing in the field.

The snow melted a few days later, and I heard nothing more. Then another storm hit that promised to be a keeper. With the temperature staying well below freezing, I knew the snow wouldn't melt for a while, which meant I had to start feeding bales of hay until the snow was gone. Since my daytime schedule was hectic, I found it easier to feed at night, usually around midnight. Two days after the snow had stopped falling, the old farmer called me. He said the woman was bothering him again, claiming the horses were not being fed. I assured him they were and told him of my nightly ritual.

The local animal protection society called the next day, explaining they received a report that I was starving my horses. I invited one of their inspectors to come out and see for himself. When the inspector arrived, I showed him the hay scattered over the field and explained my feeding schedule. I told him about the woman who believed horses should stand in their manure. I asked him to confirm my nightly feedings with a neighbor who had seen me feeding the horses. He did and was satisfied that the woman was, in his own words, a "Looney Tune."

A few weeks went by and along came another dusting of snow. The temperature hovered just around freezing, the snow melting as it hit the ground. The local animal control officer called. He was laughing so hard it was difficult to understand him. "Could I come over?" he asked.

Fifteen minutes later he arrived, still laughing. His face was as red as a beet! I thought he was going to have a coronary on the spot. Finally, calmed down to a mild chuckle, he told me that a woman had reported my horses were on fire!

The officer apologized for the inconvenience of his visit, but it was office policy to investigate each complaint. I was too busy laughing to even notice. Regaining control of myself, I climbed into the officer's truck, and off we went to check on my "roasting" horses. When we arrived at the field, the sun was just starting to break through the clouds. Three gorgeous Percherons were standing there, contentedly munching on grass. Thick columns of steam rose off them as evaporated moisture in their coats condensed in the cold air. The officer and I were awed by the beauty of it, but soon the spell was broken. We both started chuckling again, almost rolling on the ground. "Your horses are on fire!" the officer roared.

I never heard from the animal control people again. However, the woman continued pestering the old farmer with a myriad of oddball complaints. I felt so sorry for him that I took the horses back to my place a month before I'd planned to. The farmer was sad to see them go. He still enjoys telling the story about those horses that were on fire.

Author's comment: This story is humorous, but it also portrays a serious and growing problem

(The terrifying thing is people like this woman actually exist.....),P.


~~ Horse Husband's Lament ~~
My wife she has a Quarter Horse, with flaxen mane and tail.
She thinks he is the finest thing that ever jogged a rail.
She calls him Dandy Darling, and if the truth I tell,
That fancy pampered Quarter Horse has made my life pure hell!

My wife she used to cook for me and serve it with champagne.
But now she'd rather feed that horse and fix him special grain!
She rides him every morning, and grooms him half the night.
And the last time that she kissed ME, was just to be polite!

He dresses better than I do, with matching wraps and ties.
My wardrobe's so neglected now, that I attract the flies!
One day my wife was shopping, she was way down at the mall.
And fancy, pampered DANDY was just a standing in his stall.

He looked so smug and sassy, that I began to grin.
I'd saddle that fat sucker up, and take him for a spin!!
I've wondered since if the cues I gave, he may have misconstrued.
Cause when I climbed aboard that horse, he rightly came UNGLUED!!!!

He bucked and spun, and snorted fire, then threw me through a fence!
I saw big stars and there are 6 teeth, that I ain't heard from since!
My wife came home and saw me, just a lying in the dirt.
She rushed up to her HORSE and asked him, "Sweetheart are you HURT?"

He'd scratched his nose a little bit, and the memory galls me yet......
She left me lying in the mud, and ran to call the VET!!!

~Author Unknown~


Another great one on breed outlook on light bulb changing...

How many horses does it take to change a light bulb?

Thoroughbred: Who ME?? Do WHAT? I'm scared of light bulbs! I'm outta here!

Arabian: Someone else do it. It might get my silky mane dirty and besides, who's gonna read me the instructions?

Quarter Horse: Put all the bulbs in a pen and tell me which one you want...

Standardbred: Oh for Christ Sakes, give me the damn bulb and let's be done with it.

Shetland: Give it to me. I'll kill it and we won't have to worry about it anymore.

Friesian: I would, but I can't see where I'm going from behind all this mane.

Belgian: Put the Shetland on my back, maybe he can reach it then.

Warmblood: Is the 2nd Level Instruction Packet in English? Doesn't anyone realise that I was sold for $75K as a yearling, but only because my hocks are bad, otherwise I would be worth $100K? I am NOT changing lightbulbs. Make the TB get back here and do it.

Morgan: Me! Me! Me! Pleeease let me! I wanna do it! I'm gonna do it! I know how, really I do! Just watch! My parole officer said it's okay, really! And when we're done we can go over to the neighbours and chase their cats!

Appaloosa: Ya'll are a bunch of losers. We don't need to change the light bulb, I ain't scared of the dark. And someone make that damn Morgan stop jumping up and down before I double barrel him.


Some hilarious equestrian definitions, a little different from what you might think. Found on the Washington State Horseclub site.

Auction - A popular, social gathering where you can change a horse from a financial liability into a liquid asset.

Azorturia (Monday Morning Disease) - a condition brought on by showing horses all weekend. Symptoms include the feeling of dread at having to get out of bed on Mondays and go to work or school.

Barn Sour - An affliction common to horse people in northern climates during the winter months. Trudging through deep snow, pushing wheelbarrows through snow and beating out frozen water buckets tend to bring on this condition rapidly.

Big Name Trainer - Cult Leader: Horse owners follow them blindly, will gladly sell their homes, spend their children's college funds and their IRA's to support them- as they have a direct link to "The Most High Ones" (Judges).

Bog Spavin - The feeling of panic when riding through marshy area. Also used to refer to horses who throw a fit at having to go through water puddles.

Colic - The gastrointestinal result of eating at the food stands at horse shows.

Colt - What your mare always gives you when you want a filly.

Contracted foot - The involuntary/instant reflex of curling one's toes up - right before a horse steps on your foot.

Corn - small callus growths formed from the continual wearing of cowboy boots.

Drench - Term used to describe the condition an owner is in after he administers mineral oil to his horse.

Endurance ride - The end result when your horse spooks and runs away with you in the woods.

Equitation - The ability to keep a smile on your face and proper posture while your horse tries to crowhop, shy and buck his way around a show ring.

Feed - Expensive substance utlized in the manufacture of large quantities of manure.

Fences - Decorative perimeter structures built to give a horse something to chew on, scratch against and jump over (see inbreeding).

Flea-bitten - A condition of the lower extremities in horse owners who also own dogs and cats.

Flies - The excuse of choice a horse uses so he can kick you, buck you off or knock you over - he cannot be punished.

Founder - 1.) The discovery of your loose mare-some miles from your farm, usually in a flower bed or cornfield. Used like-"Hey, honey, I found'er." 2.)Founder: A condition that happens to most people after Thanksgiving dinner.

Frog - Small amphibious animal that emits a high-pitched squeal when stepped on.

Gallop- The customary gait a horse chooses when returning to the barn.

Gates - Wooden or metal structures built to amuse horses.

Girth Sores - Painful swelling and abrasion made at the point of mid-section by fashionable large western belt buckles.

Green Broke - The color of the face of the person who has just gotten the training bill from the Big Name Trainer...

Grooming - The fine art of brushing the dirt from one's horse and applying it to your own body.

Grooms - Heavy, stationary objects used at horse shows to hold down lawn chairs and show bills.

Hay - A green itchy material that collects between layers of clothing, especially in unmentionable places.

Head Shy - A reluctance to use the public restrooms at a horse show. Always applies to pit toilets.

Head Tosser - A blonde-haired woman who wears fashion boots while working in the barn.

Heaves - The act of unloading a truckful of hay.

Hobbles - Describes the walking gait of a horse owner after his/her foot has been stepped on by his/her horse.

Hock - The financial condition that a horse owner goes into.

Hoof Pick - Useful, curbed metal tool utilized to remove hardened dog doo from the treads of your tennis shoes.

Horse Shoes - Expensive semi-circular projectiles that horses like to throw.

Inbreeding - The breeding results of broken/inadequate pasture fencing.

Jumping - The characteristic movement that an equine makes when given a vaccine or has his hooves trimmed.

Lameness - The condition of most riders after the first few rides each year; can be a chronic condition in weekend riders.

Lead Rope - A long apparatus instrumental in the administration of rope burns. Also used by excited horses to take a handler for a drag.

Longeing - A training method a horse uses on its owner with the purpose of making the owner spin in circles-rendering the owner dizzy and light-headed so that they get sick and pass out, so the horse can go back to grazing.

Manure Spreader - Horse traders

Mosquitoes - Radar equipped blood sucking insects that typically reach the size of small birds.

Mustang - The type of horse your husband would gladly trade your favorite one for...preferably in a red convertible and V-8.

Overreaching - A descriptive term used to explain the condition your credit cards are in by the end of show season.

Parasites - Small children (no flames please) that get in your way when you work in the barn. Many gather in swarms at horse shows.

Pinto - A colorful (usually green) coat pattern found on a freshly washed and sparkling clean grey horse that was left unattended in his stall for ten minutes.

Pony - The true size of the stallion that you bred your mare to via transported semen-that was advertised as 15 hands tall.

Proud Flesh - The external reproductive organs flaunted by a stallion when a horse of any gender is present. Often displayed in halter classes.

Quarter Cracks - The comments that most Arabian owners make about the people who own Quarter Horses.

Quittor - A term trainers have commonly used to refer to their clients who come to their senses and pull horses out of their barns.

Race - What your heart does when you see the vet bill.

Rasp - An abrasive, long, flat metal tool used to remove excess skin from the knuckles.

Reins - Break-away leather device used to tie horses with.

Ringworms - Spectators who block your view and gather around the rail sides at horse shows.

Sacking Out - A condition caused by Sleeping Sickenss (see below). The state of deep sleep a mare owner will be in at the time a mare actually goes into labor and foals.

Saddle - An expensive leather contraption manufactured to give the rider a false sense of security. Comes in many styles, all feature built-in ejector seats.

Saddle Sore - The way the rider's bottom feels the morning after the weekend at the horse show.

Sleeping Sickness - A disease peculiar to mare owners while waiting for their mares to foal. Caused by nights of lost sleep, symptoms include irritability, red baggy eyes and a zombie-like waking state. Can last several weeks.

Splint - An apparatus that can be applied to various body parts of a rider due to the parting of the ways of a horse and his passenger.

Stall - What your truck does on the way to a horse show, fifty miles from the closest town.

Tack Room - A room where every item necessary to work with or train your horse has been put, in a place which it cannot be found in less than 30 minutes.

Twisted Gut - The feeling deep inside that most riders get before their classes at a show.

Versatility - an owners ability to shovel manure, fix fences and chase down a loose horse in one afternoon.

Vet Catalog - An illustrated brochure provided to stable owners that features a wide array of products that are currently out of stock or have been dropped from a company's inventory.

Weaving - The movement a horse trailer makes while going down the road with a rambunctious horse in it.

Whip Marks - The tell-tale raised welts on the face of a rider-caused by the trail rider directly in front of you letting a low hanging branch go. (Also caused by a wet or dry horse tail across the face while cleaning hooves)

Windpuffs - Stallion owners. Also applied to used car salesmen.

Withers - The reason you'll seldom see a man riding bareback.

Yearling - the age at which all horses completely forget the things you taught them previously.

Youngstock - A general term used for all equines old enough to bite, kick or run you over, but not yet old enough to dump you on the ground.

Zoo - The typical atmosphere around most horse farms.


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