Your Mother’s a Horse

The Duke stopped by Uncle Bubba’s and invited him to ride with him to the ranch in the morning. He was in possession of a mare that was ready to be bred and was going to take her to the stud ranch. It’s been a long time since the two had spent some time together so Bubbie gladly accepted the invite. The next morning he beat the cock to the crow and downed a couple cups of hot coffee before filling a travel mug and heading out the door. He was standing roadside when The Duke pulled up and Bubbie piled into the cab. It was still dark as they rode the hour trip up to the ranch and along the way we passed an old white car that had a decal on the back window. As they got close and made out the writing it hilariously said, “White Cracker”.

“White Cracker! The Duke laughed.
“Is there any other kind?” laughed Bubbie.
They could see by his license plate that he was from Dixie County. They were both amazed that someone from there had strayed so far away.
“Dixie County, that explains a lot.” chided The Duke, “I guarantee that he only has one tooth in his head.”



On they rode to the ranch as the sky began to lighten as somewhere in the east beyond the endless thick stanchion of trees, the sun was considering to peer over the horizon. By the time they reached the gate at The Duke’s ranch it was light enough to see some hazy detail in the leafy trees through the mist upon the pasture. Through the truck window, Uncle Bubba watched a wild turkey strut and duck into the shadows of a hedge row, hoping to be unnoticed. They drove through the gate to the barn to hitch the livestock trailer to The Duke’s pickup truck. With a couple dull clanks of metal on metal it was quickly attached and they hopped back into the truck and drove up the lane to the pasture, stopping to load the mare into the livestock trailer. The Duke’s dogs ran from the porch of the ranch house to excitedly greet their master and his friend. They barked and jumped but the men acted as if they hardly noticed; The Duke was on a mission. He made a beeline for the pasture and walked the mare out while Uncle Bubba opened the trailer gate and she walked peacefully up into the trailer. The Duke wrapped her harness around a side rail for her safety. Now it was time to get her to the stud farm. The metal trailer clanged as they drove back out the dirt lane and the mare whinnied.

“She doesn’t sound happy back there.” Bubbie mentioned.
“She's in heat.” replied The Duke, “She’s crazy in the head."

They only had to ride for maybe 10 minutes before arriving at the stud ranch. The automated ranch gate was open as they arrived, they were expecting The Duke. They drove through the open gates flanked by white brick pillars as the gate closed behind them. The property is cross fenced, cordoned off into green corrals and pastures with majestic oak trees dotting the landscape. They passed a corral that restrained a little high strung stallion.

“That’s the teaser.” The Duke said, “You know he’s got to be one mean dude because he never gets any. His job is to tease the mares to get them ready for the real deal.”

The little stallion was trotting excitedly along the fence line as the trailer rattled past. He'd stop abruptly and he shook his mane before darting off on another lap around the corral. The Duke pulled up in front of the small, white painted cinder block breeding barn and they off loaded the chestnut colored mare. As the slight hispanic ranch-hand took the harness in hand, The Duke asked if she needed to be walked by the teaser to get her ready.

“No need for that, she’s ready.” the smiling ranch-hand quipped as the mare leaned forward to jettison a powerful stream of urine on the dew covered grass.

She was hotter than a firecracker and was also staring at the large black stallion standing majestically across the small barn, who was watching her intently.

They led her into the barn and stood her behind a short, dark green stanchion to prep her. They washed her and wrapped her tail as the stallion handler said, “The safest place to stand is behind this wall over here.” pointing to a similar stanchion on the opposite side of the barn. Uncle Bubba and The Duke walked behind the short wall as they led the mare out into the center of the barn. The stallion “checked” the mare from across the barn by lifting its nose into the air and curling his upper lip. He was becoming excitedly impatient. One ranch-hand placed a ring attached to a stick in the mare’s nose while another tied a rope around one of her front legs. The stallion handler allowed him to approached as they pulled her leg up to raise her hoof off of the soft barn floor. This prevented her from kicking him off as he mounted her, which they quickly dropped once he was astride her back. He bit her on the back of her neck as the business end prodded her.

Uncle Bubba laughed as he missed and the handler literally handled him, quickly grabbing his long black stallion-hood to point him in the right erection direction for mare injection. The two muscled animals awkwardly danced as the mare quickly tired of her predicament. They circled and approached the stanchion where Uncle Bubba and The Duke had taken cover. That short wall suddenly felt a little too short to Bubbie as the huge haunches of the black stallion backed up towards them.

The Duke bellowed, “That’s the same way I do it!”
The stallion handler shot back, “And you’re done just about as fast.”
Laughter broke the tension and just that quick the stallion dismounted.

Moments later ranch-hands had the mare’s tail unwrapped and she was walked back out of the barn and led back into the livestock trailer. The Duke followed the stallion handler out the back of the barn towards the corrals as they led the stallion back to his stable. Inside he was unharnessed and his black mane flew in the wind as he galloped with pride and victory around his corral. The Duke and the handler spoke of the odds of success and such. Then it was time to get the mare back to his ranch. The dogs barked excitedly and circled the truck as they pulled in. The mare was walked back to her corral and just like that it was all over; all but the waiting to see if the breeding was successful. She may be a mama soon.

In Bubbie’s view this horse racing business is risky. The handlers risk injury during the breeding. The owners risk money in attempting to breed a winner. The trainers and jockeys risk injury as well. And the gamblers risk losing greenback dollars. But the chance of winning is dang sure exciting!