The Mule Jewel After watching the Bishop Mule Days parade, I sorely wanted a mule, so I searched the classified ads and found what I considered a jewel. He was incredibly strong, stocky and big around as a cow. I brought him home in my horse trailer and proudly put him in the corral. He was just about as white as that friendly ghost called Casper. I considered that name a while, but finally named him Jasper. He was Percheron and Mammoth Jack and his shaggy head was massive but he seemed tranquil and relaxed, and actually kind of passive. There’s a saying “A mule never forgives and they never forget,” but that didn’t bother me any because I considered this one a pet. I knew there was a chance he could bite or might be prone to kick but after having horses step on my feet, I had learned to be pretty quick. Now over the years I have had myself a few bucking horse duels and I was aware, but not impressed, about the quirks of stubborn mules. Seeing this dappled gelding filled my heart with owner’s pride so after about three days of admiration I decided to take him for a ride. I brushed him down and bridled him up using a firm gag bit just in case there was some slight chance he might throw a hissy fit. He seemed a little bit nervous but that was ok, cuz I was too, but I didn’t have any inkling of what this mule was about to do. I stepped up into the saddle and let him have his head and there wasn’t a second’s hesitation as across the arena he sped. My life flashed before my eyes and I figured I had met my fate as he ignored my cues and cries for help and crashed right through the gate. I knew I had only two choices as he headed toward the paved road: one was to hang on for dear life, the other was to unload. I did not like either choice as fervent prayers I sent on high. I knew I was gonna get hurt real bad or worse case scenario, die. I tried a one-rein stop but he seemed to think I was only funning. He just looked at me like “surely you jest!” and kept right on a’running. The telephone poles were whizzing by as we moved at an incredible pace. It was then I started mouthing the words to the song “Amazing Grace.” Those prayers were sure enough answered because I survived without a wreck, though they did have to use a crowbar to pry my arms from around his neck. But now I’m a whole lot wiser and have learned, when dealing with mules, you do not treat them like a horse. There’s a whole new set of rules!
Posted on: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 05:17:43 +0000
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