Useful Horse Communication Advice:

EARS

EARS FORWARD: Signals the approach of food, sex or a predator. (Humans fall under the last heading.)

ONE FORWARD, ONE BACK: Sometimes it is a case of watching you and the road. If they turn both ears around then you have gone from a curiosity to an annoyance. Relocation is imminent.

EARS SIDEWAYS: Actually it is a genetic anomaly or the ears are broken. Otherwise, it doesn't mean a damn thing.

EARS FLAT BACK: Unabashedly pissed off. Good time to walk away quietly.

Benito Gets a Nod...sort of.

So What's Benito Mussolini Got To Do With It?

First off, the guy looked pretty good on a horse. Much better than I do, which is why I'm not including a picture of myself. Notice the heels down, the leg position, spine straight, head under the body. Horse is actually awake.

You see, I studied Mussolini in conjunction with my senior thesis at the old alma mater...University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, Washington. As the preface in the book explains, somewhat lamely, this was after my illustrious career as manager of the also-rans. In the process of researching fascism -- the Italian model, I discovered:

"I did learn one thing from Mussolini's mixed-up political non-system: that being the notion that I was probably a fascist farm manager. I mean, think about it. I was a quasi-dictator, I controlled the labor force (a cat and a backhoe operator and I seemed to have my hands all over the 'supply and demand' sector: hay, oats, manure and diesel fuel. Plus, my subjects were either too naturally rambunctious to form a quorum, or bound to the sacred oath of the Herd Lodge, which basically meant that in either case, it would take years for any of them to pick a leader. And if they did, well, as soon as the election was over, I'd just sell the winner."

Ronald Reagan also made the book as well. Not quite as pretty on a horse.

Heard About This Book

Didn't believe a word of it.

Yes, There is a Dog Story in the Book!

Two Different Views of the Little Assassin

Chapter 20 is all about Emily, a sweet little JRT that kills things. The picture on the left is how Emily views herself. Kind, considerate...sleeps in the bed. You know. The picture on the right was posted on YouTube by a hamster shortly before the video feed went blank. We would like to think that it was just a dead battery or something...but.

"Emily bludgeoned her way through life as if each encounter was to be her last -- a tormented poet really, seeing peace as a lousy alternative to war and anarchy. She dreamed of grabbing little hamsters by the head and shaking them to death, burying their broken bodies under the house. If she were human, her ghastly crimes would have ended in the gas chamber, a pellet of cyanide for the bad little dog."

Well, we know that's not going to happen.

Chapter 2: Horseshoeing School or...Denial Part IV

Somehow I imagined that horseshoeing went something like this. Hang around with nice looking women, eat a little watermelon, do most of the work with one hand and a slightly insincere smile. Or is it a lecherous grin? They kind of look similar.

However, truth and reality often change places, mostly because one is always more painful than the other. What I got was...

"[On the first] Friday of the class, we started working on the frozen legs. We wrapped the bloody parts in burlap and tied a string to one end. The other end was tied to a post so we could hold the leg between our legs, which sort of imitated real life conditions. Those of us with money had a heavy leather apron, those without, bloody jeans."

[We did get some real horses to work on eventually. Maggots had eaten most of the dead legs anyway.] "There were three horses and all were caked with mud or manure or both. Two immediately pissed on our dirt floor, turning in into a kind of foamy mud with little steam vents next to each submerged leg. This made it a little hard to determine [the instructor's] interpretation of proper balance -- or maybe in this case, flotation."

It took another five years for things to improve much.

Our Staff at Red Planet Publishing

This photo was taken during our 'Fundamentalist Period.' Shortly thereafter, we heard about Islam's no alcohol rule. Well, to be honest, that was a toughie at the time. We flipped a coin and became Lutherans.

That lasted about a week. On further examination it appeared that Lutherans were allowed to dabble in the spirits, but as a general rule they were too normal, awkward at parties and most of them seemed to live in Minnesota.

Next we tried Catholicism. The red wine was a nice touch, though both of us experienced difficulty with the part about when you kneel and when you stand. Both of us have pretty bad knees (horseshoeing does that to a person) so we would just drink more wine. After a bit, we just decided to lie down in the pew and hope for divine intervention, or the room to quit spinning. We weren't excommunicated -- more like a situation where the priest rejects your application because it is so much easier than listening to your confession -- which is just about as long as my book and not nearly as funny. Well, there was that part about the three tattooed women at the car wash...

Did I say the book was fiction? Good. Wouldn't want any misunderstandings here.

Chapter 10 Explores the Ramifications of Genetic Engineering with Thoroughbreds

"It's All in the Name"

'Boo Boo' was a mistake. Just possibly the ugliest yearling ever to qualify for a summer sale, she was purchased because Doc was staring at the wrong catalog page....

.....After winning a few minor races, she entered the farm's broodmare ranks and abruptly founded a new line of odd-faced foals. I named one 'Insect Eyes,' another 'Llama Lips'....

You can figure out the rest.