Lonny was the first to reach them and he knew he would be the only one who could really handle his stud. " Whoa, horse,” he said, " whoa!” Seeing that it might be best to try to close them in, Loimy told Red and the two painters, who had just arrived, to try to get all the way around them. The black stud approached one of the mares and received a hard hind kick in the right front shoulder. Blood started to trickle from the three-inch cut where the blow had landed. " That mare ain’ ready for no foolishness,” said Little Joe, as they moved closer to the stallion and tried to separate him from the mares.
" WHOA, HORSE!” yelled Lonny, with as much voice as he could muster. The big stallion stopped and looked at him. " Whoa, now... whoa, he said. " Easy, boy... easy.” The black horse, as if he knew his part was over, began to park just like he did when Lonny was showing him, several years back.
oi1 r:«» ■ ' 01 blue by Charles Barry Sanderson
While discussing the final arrangements to put Red Larrimore’ s two horses in training, Lonny Barnes was interrupted by his ground man, Little Joe, with the urgent news that their breeding stallion, an eightyear-old black Dark Sun horse, had just kicked open the gate of the paddock and headed for town. Lonny quickly jumped up and ran out of his office, yelling at the painters to drop their brushes and come with him. The " Black Hoss,” as Little Joe called him, had headed for the highway, and Lonny knew that if the horse reached the road and was hit by a car he would have a lawsuit for sure. Lonny started hollering instructions. " Joe, you cut across the south pasture and see if you can beat him to the highway entrance. Red, let’ s you and me take your truck and see if we can catch him.” Lonny knew that the stud wasn’ t really mean, but that he could do a lot of damage on the highway or in the little community over the hill.
As they started out the front gate and headed down the dirt road toward the highway, they saw Little Joe running across the field. It looked as if he might beat the black horse to the road. Little Joe jumped a ditch and missed the other side, sprawling all over the red dirt bank. He came up limping and obviously had hurt his ankle, but kept running toward the road. The big black stallion stopped about halfway to the main road, looked about for a moment, and took a leap across a barbed-wire fence that would have done credit to a steeplechase winner. It was obvious what he had on his mind: the farmer who owned the adjoining property had three brood mares and they were out to pasture for the first time, since the weather had broken and the first hints of spring had begun to show. Lonny and Red pulled the truck up about the same time that Little Joe got there. " We better get him before ol’ man Franks does,” said Little Joe. " He don’ t cotton to Walking Horses nohow and ' ud raise hell with all of us effen yo’ stud got to his gaited mares.” The three men jumped the fence and started across the field toward the four horses, which were making tracks back and forth across the pasture by this time.
" You better stretch out, you black hunk of pedigree,” said Lonny, who had the full attention of his horse by now. Reaching out slowly, Lonny grabbed the halter and snapped on a lead chain.
Mr. Larrimore, looking over the stallion with a keen eye, said, " Lonny, I’ ve heard a lot about your stud horse and now I know why so many people like him. He’ s a lot of horse.” Lonny smiled and said, " Sometimes he’ s too much horse.” Handing the lead line to Little Joe, he said, " Here, Joe. Take him on back to the barn.”
Little Joe, not wanting to create any problem with his new boss, looked somewhat troubled and finally said, " Mista Lonny, you know they ain’ no way out of this field ' cept through Mista Franks’ gate over by the barn. I’ d be jest as well off effen you were to lead him out, ' cause that ol’ man’ s gonna want to know howcome dis black hoss of yours was in his pasture in the firs’ place.” Lonny laughed and said " How ' bout that, Red. He wants me to get kicked off Franks’ place.” Taking the lead line, Lonny headed for the far corner of the field where the gate was, after telling everyone to go on back to the barn and that he would meet them shortly.
As Lonny neared the gate, a man came out of the house and approached him at a fast clip. " What the hell are you doing in my pasture with that black stud horse, fella?” demanded the man, obviously perturbed. Lonny went into detail telling how the horse had gotten out and that it wouldn’ t happen again. After hearing a brief lesson on why the Tennessee Walking Horses were ruining the horse business, Lonny decided to try something he hadn’ t done in quite a while: he tied the lead chain to both sides of the halter and, with the agility of a movie cowboy, slung his leg over the stud’ s back and got on. The black horse just stood there, waiting for the right command. Lonny clucked to him and he leaped into a flat-foot walk. Lonny looked back and said, with a slight note of pride, " You say these horses are manmade, Mr. Franks? Well, just take a look at this plug horse and see what you think.’’ With that, he spurred the big horse and felt the true pleasure of a
28 VOICE of the Tennessee Walking Horse