Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets



Occasionally, I introduce y’all readers to some of our animals.  Today’s featured friend is Scamp the Wonder Horse.

After you read his story, you will understand why I call him that.

Scamp has an interesting background.  Unlike our registered Quarter Horses (A.Q.H.A.), Scamp is of mixed parentage.  His sire was named Certified, an Arabian stallion.  His dam was a Paint mare named Flashy Girl, who was a champion show horse.   Scamp was intended to look like a Paint, but he mostly took after his father, except for white socks in front and a big white blaze.  He is registered as Certified Flash in the Half-Arab Registry.  His only friends are Quarter Horses.  He does not fit in, yet he does not know it and they do not know it, so I guess it does not matter.

Miss Sugar bought Scamp when he was a foal, only about five months old, for a “fire sale price.”   At that point, he was a stud colt.  About a year later he became a colt that was no longer a stud, i.e., a gelding.  In addition, he had a congenital problem with his hind legs from a too tight ligament which required surgery.  So he was not off to a very promising start.  His ambition to be King of the Wild Stallions was short-lived, similar to my aspirations of starring in the N.F.L.  (No, I have not been gelded.  I was using an analogy.)

When Scamp was still very young and had not yet been trained to ride, a fella who was supposedly hired to feed and water the horses, did not do his job.  Due to some personal problems, he did not come out for a few days.  Consequently, Scamp and another gelding, who were in pens and not out in the pasture, went without food and water for a few days.  Upon returning home from a trip, Sugar found these poor horses suffering.  The older horse survived better.  He was still on his feet.  Young Scamp was on his side, dehydrated.  The veterinarian prescribed a curious remedy — Pepto Bismol.  Sugar tilted Scamp’s head back and poured bottles of it down his throat all through the night.  She saved his life.  (The young man who caused the problem by not showing up did not fare as well.  Just kidding.  Sort of.)  Anyway, Scamp knows that Sugar saved him.  They have a special bond.  He is supposed to be my horse, but he isn’t.  His heart belongs to Sugar.

Scamp trotting

Since surviving those early challenges, Scamp has been healthy as a horse.

He turned out to be a pretty good ranch horse.  He is good around cows and on trails.  You can rope off him, provided you can rope.


Scamp comes when he is called.  He is easy to ride.  Sugar has given children riding lessons on him.  What makes him most popular is that he can do tricks.  He can count.  He can bow.  He can shake his head “no” or nod “yes.”  He can tell a secret.  He can laugh. He is a star at parties at the ranch.

scamp bowing

Our least expensive horse became our most valuable one.  He’s had the last laugh after all.



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7 thoughts on “Scamp

  1. Great story, yea Scamp!

  2. I see our cowboy hero is whining (or is it whinning like a horse) about the number of “likes” on this super story. Well, I’ll have you know that I clicked “LIKE” maybe six times…but when I did that, it erased the previous LIKE. So I clicked it a seventh time…to make you happy. 🙂

    But Scamp is such a lucky horse to be loved by Ms. Sugar (and you) so much… Somehow, Scamp does look much happier with Ms. Sugar atop. 🙂

    Darling story.

    • Thanks for liking the story. Yes, Scamp has a good life, and, yes, he prefers Sugar to me. Maybe it has something to do with her saving his life when distressed or maybe it has to do with me weighing 80 lbs more.

      • You make me laugh, sir…but hopefully, Ms. Sugar doesn’t see the “80 lbs more” thing but I know you are underestimating the real difference. 🙂

        Your writing is exceptional, sir! 🙂

  3. Maybe it is 100 lbs. When we got married it was probably more than that much and I gained from there, but now we are both working on losing some. Sugar is no longer a lingerie and swimsuit model. I am no longer the perfect size for an NFL linebacker. I lost 20 lbs this year and, with my boots on, I am taller than the average NFL linebacker.

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