One of our dear friends just bought a new horse, a good looking gelding paint that came with the name
Not a bad name, Waco ,
in my estimation. Any city that just
produced the reigning Heisman Trophy winner can’t be all bad, right? Waco
was not a name the paint’s new owner was able to warm up to. In an effort to assist, a herd of alternate
names was quickly rounded up by the local experts. Several bold suggestions did not survive the
first cut, however, because of a theory endorsed around these parts that says a
horse adopts a behavior associated with its name. Waco
In other words, according to those who live under my roof and spend more time with horses than I do, “Buddy” is indeed a great pal of a horse. The name just fits. “Natural Disaster” was, they say, a big ol’ accident-waiting-to-happen kind of horse. And so on.
I don’t know if I fully buy into the theory or not. But I have noticed that some horse names can spur me to certain behaviors on a regular basis. When we participate in evening bring-in at the barn, for example, Lilly the crazy-eyed mare can almost always count on me yammering like Harvey Korman in Blazing Saddles as I slip the halter around her neck: “Lilly, Lilly, Lilly.” I’m able to readily identify
, the black gelding with two white socks,
because a walker needs socks, right? And
for reasons I’m sure would justify professional help, I find myself slipping
into Edith Bunker voice each time I go out to bring in the chestnut gelding,
I suppose there is a chance that this horse-portrays-its-name theory holds some validity. If so, I opined on the way to the barn recently, I’ve got the perfect name for our next horse. A name that would make stall clean-up fun and profitable. Poops Gold Nuggets.
Our friend, by the way, decided to name her new paint Hank. Outstanding.