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Classics Top Banana
Meet Sonny. Sonny is my great big fat retired Quarter Horse gelding. He was
the headliner of my former Quarter Horse stable, Classic Quarter Horses.
He was part of my show horse string that my family showed together, known as "The
Bay Team." Born in 1978, I have owned Sonny most of his life, and have shown
him in various halter and performance classes for about 15 years.
Sonny is the sweetest horse in the world.
He is gentle and loving with people, and we have a very special bond. He has
tremendous spirit that commands respect. However, I have never in all my years
of horsemanship ever run across another horse that has so many mental issues
like Sonny does. He is the most different horse I have ever known. I think he
suffers at times from an identity crisis, because he has no idea that he is
supposed to be a horse. He can't stand other horses near him, and has required
his own private turn out field all his life.
Sonny is also quite the "clothes horse".
He has the largest wardrobe of any other horse on the planet because he does not
like the weather. Any weather. He has a variety of summer, spring, fall and
winter stable clothing to ensure his constant comfort. Sonny is dreadfully
scared of bugs. Although I am very liberal with assorted insect repellents, in
the summer months he will refuse to leave his stall until he is properly attired
in his assortment of mesh fly sheets and fly masks for his comfort. A fork-lift
and a stick of dynamite cannot launch him out of his stall until he feels he is
ready to meet the insects of the day that he views as flying monsters or
pterodactyls. He is also allergic to rain, because that includes water. Heat,
cold, wind, and snow are completely out of the question.
Sonny thinks that he's a bulldozer. Thanks to Sonny, I am in the construction
business here on the farm. I have clocked more field time in repairing fences,
gates, and boards that he's torn down, run through, and destroyed that I can
count. He has kicked more holes in the walls of the barn than there are in my
spaghetti strainer. When we moved him into his brand new spacious, luxurious
stall in the new barn, he tore his walls down in minutes and it had to be
re-built with extra 2 X 12's. When Sonny appears at his pasture gate and wants
to return to his stall, I had better be there to let him in or I will loose that
gate because he is coming in one way or the other. One time, he took out a
galvanized gate and twisted it up and made it look like an accordion. Maybe he
wanted to be in the music business too. And please, don't let his age fool you.
When Sonny runs, the earth moves. It should be recorded on the Richter scale.
Sonny sounds like a herd of elephants on the rampage out there. I should have
named him "Horse-Zilla".
The truth is that Sonny is nothing more than a great big sissy, who is afraid
of his own shadow. He is a horse with a variety of issues, and I wouldn't have
him any other way. We now grow old together, as it should be. That's my boy,
Sonny; and I love him dearly.
My Tribute to Sonny, by Marty
Garrison
You're the horse
that kids read about in storybooks-
So big and free spirited, shinny and wild.
No one knows the real you, except me,
The side of you that's so very mild.
I cannot see what you see,
I cannot hear the sounds you do,
I don't know what it is that sets you off,
But I do know the bond between me & you.
We sure have had our ups and downs,
But one thing I know is true,
After 20 years together we are really stuck,
Better than super glue.
Do you remember going to all those shows?
You caused so much chaeos you drew a crowd;
But there were just as many shows,
When you surely did me proud.
You stood so still for your clipping,
And enjoyed a thousand baths,
Jumped right into that trailer with ease,
To get on the show road again at last.
You got right into that arena,
Knowing exactly what to do,
Sometimes you did it so perfectly,
And other times you really blew it too!
You were always so mighty and powerful,
just too much to handle on some days,
you're scared of your own shadow,
and have so many outrageous ways.
Now what was all that bucking for,
And why did you try to dump me in the dirt-
Didn't you realize I was high on top of you
And that ground was going to hurt?
And how come you are always making a mess;
Tearing down gates and boards all the time-
Kicking the walls right out of the barn
Whatever is on your mind?
Well Son I've noticed your big muscles going a little soft,
And your chest narrows a little now as well,
I hear a clicking in your back leg
And you're dropping a little weight I can tell.
.
Yes, boy we are done with the shows.
I think the buck stops right here.
I won't be climbing back on you no more,
I can't do it anymore either I fear.
Hey Son, my bones are making noises like yours,
I'm getting older with you too,
But don't you ever worry my boy
I'm always here for you.
So yes, I'll still be clipping you in the morning,
And you'll have a thousand more baths too,
You can slobber all over me as always,
Because we're happiest that way me & you.
So let's just sit back and grow old together,
And you just do whatever you want to,
I'll cater to your every need as always,
And by the way Sonny.... I love you.....
*****************************************
Here I lay face down in the dirt again
Makes me remember way back when
How that big horse would buck up a storm
that's all he has done since the day he was born
I think about our times back in the good old days
When his bucking made me laugh, by his power I'd be amazed
Bright and shinny he'd storm into the ring
Trying to keep him calmed down was a hard thing
And oh how he catch that judge's eye
We'd jog and lope so fine, he and I
We were one, a team to be reckoned with
As long as he'd hold steady and not explode in a fit
There were ribbons and trophies all over galore
So many they could hardly fit through the door
And at home he is such a destructive machine
Tearing down fences, pretending to be mean
But he's always been gentle as he could be
Like a bull in a china shop, that's my Sonny.
And now that we are both growing old
There's so many stories about Sonny to be told
And it's time that he quit bucking around
Because I'm tired of being put on the ground
I keep telling him "Son, we're both too old for this"
But being in that saddle is what we miss
And there's arthritis creeping up on us
Some aches and pains that I cuss
Still, so stubborn, both he and I
Stubborn and ornery till the day we both die
But when that pain comes and it's too much for him to bare
You can be sure, I'll be right there
When he's no longer bright and full of himself to go on
He'll leave with dignity when it's all done
But for now, that old boy, he should really slow down
He thinks he's such a big old clown
I treasure every day when he's out there running so fast
He's out in that field just having a blast
He comes when I call him, carrots in hand
Grabs them quickly then he's back running the land
He bucks and he soars with four feet in the air
My boy Sonny-growing old he don't care.
So I get up and dust the dirt off of me
Unsaddle that horse and tie him up to a tree
Brush him down with all my love
Hug that old boy as I wink to God above
And thank Him for another day with this old horse of mine
Thank Him for giving us this extra time
Because, you never will know just when
Your old horse will be called up to heaven
Please Santa, bring my stocking. I promise I'll be good
this time.
And here we have the
little angel, attacking Michael for a carrot, right before he knocked him out of
the kiddie pool.
 
Mom, somebody kicked holes in my
stall door again, and I don't know who did it....
No one is looking ...
I think I should move these boards today and blame it on the minis!
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