Thaddeus Nowak's Blog: Thoughts and Observations - Posts Tagged "dollar"

The other day I was out at the barn taking care of my horse Dollar and stopped to chat for a while with one of the ladies at the barn. We got to talking about all the things our horses had done over the years and she couldn't understand why I had not written anything about the crazy adventures that had ensued. That got me to thinking that I probably should document some of these little episodes of life. I'd like to think Dollar would get a sly look in his eyes over people hearing about him.

To start with, for those who have not been around horses, with some rare exceptions, horses are clever little buggers that are curious, conniving, and downright troublesome. Most of them are too smart for our own good and with their loveable behaviors, can manipulate many people to get what they want. With that said, they are well worth the effort at friendship, as they do all have very distinct personalities, likes, dislikes, and most of the time, you can't help but smile at what they do.

Dollar, or more officially Silver Dollar as his original owners named him for the round white mark on his withers, is a large chestnut quarter horse. His antics (such as learning to open his stall door) earned him the name Dollar the Scholar. Just about everyone has a story about him and his lovable personality means he makes friends everywhere he goes.

He turned 23 this May, and while generally healthy, he's been retired for a number of years because he has arthritis in his hocks. Most days he's sound, but occasionally he gets sore and is lame even at the walk.

Dollar has always been cleaver and you can see it in his eyes when he's working out a decision to determine if the reward would be worth the risk. One day, a couple years back, we were bringing him in from the outdoor arena. It was a pleasant spring afternoon, the birds were frolicking and the grass was green and sweet.

As we had done hundreds of times before, we had his food and treats in the feed bucket in the stall. At the the door, I took off the halter and waited for our 1300 pound "Big Guy" to walk on in to get his food.

Well, as is normal during most of the year, the large doors at the end of the barn were open to allow for a cool cross breeze. Dollar glanced down at the far end (his stall was pretty much in the middle of the barn) and paused for a moment. He looked back at me, holding the halter in my hand, still waiting expectantly. He glanced into the stall, noting the food, then looked back at me as if to say "Sorry". He took off, trotting down the isle and toward the open doors.

Standing for a moment with my mouth open (having uttered a choice curse) I took off after him. When I reached the open doors, he was just a few feet away, dining on the young grasses. He kept me in his eye as he quickly gobbled up everything he could get his mouth around. As soon as I got close enough to try to get the lead rope around his neck, he took off, cantering away.

A few more choice words and "Dollar! Halt!" uttered multiple times had no effect. He stopped only when he judged he was far enough away to get a chance to eat before I would be close enough to catch him.

Pigging out, he gobbled up the grass until I got close enough. We repeated this, with him trotting, cantering, and even galloping away, over fields, boggy marsh near some water, and around the barn, just as if he was perfectly sound. Every time anyone of us trying to catch him got close enough, he'd look us in the eye, say, "ya right, you think you can get me?"

Eventually, he climbed up a steep slope, crossed a field, a gravel road, and went through an open gate into a neighbor's pasture. He continued to eat as we all huffed our way over to him.

By this time, he was ready to be caught and we could tell by the glint in his eyes he had enjoyed the chase. We chewed him out as we led him back to the barn (because they really do understand us, or at least the tone) and he had the decency to look admonished. And now that the chase was over, he threw in lots of limping, barely managing to get back to the barn. I think it was in the hopes it would get him out of trouble.

This time, he got led into his stall and he stood there just looking at me with his large brown eyes; his brows peaked to say, "sorry, it was just such a nice day, I wanted to have some fun."

Despite the frustration and fear about him crossing the road, I could not truly be angry with him and I think he knew it. He also knew he was going to get the grain already in his stall, so he had calculated he would not lose out with that little adventure.

That is just one tale of our Dollar the Scholar. We call him the "over glorified lawn ornament", but he is part of our family for life.

Here's a picture of the "Big Guy".

One day, the lady who owns the barn where Dollar is boarded was driving past the outdoor arena where he was turned out. What she saw scared her. Dollar, it appeared, was hung up on the starting block. The starting block, in this case, is made up of a large six inch steal tube that stands around two to three feet off the ground and forms an "L" shape. It is used when they are practicing roping.

Dollar was standing over the starting block, his chest rubbing the top of the tube. She rushed into the arena and carefully coxed him off the block. Dollar calmly complied and looked at her with an "okay, what now" expression.

Relived he was not hurt, she left him turned out and kept an eye on him as she headed back to her chores. Once she had left the area, Dollar walked back to the starting block and side passed back over the top of it. He then proceeded to scratch his chest against the top of the tube. When he was done, he slid off the tube and went back to his normal routine.

I've had the pleasure of seeing him do this myself, where he'd watch me watching him and then give me a look as if to say: "Ya, what are you looking at? Haven't you had an itch before?" Followed immediately by: "Did you bring me anything to eat?" For him, he's got a back scratcher (taking a nice roll on the ground), but to get a good belly scratch, he needed a tool.

Dollar (The Scholar) knows what he likes, and it is not getting his face washed or brushed. Frankly, he just doesn't like getting a bath. We tend to end up just as wet as he does.



For the face brushing, he's perfected the art of projectile snot. He claims it is all the small hairs and dust that get up his nose, but he holds it back until he can get you point blank in the chest. The only way to avoid his powerful nose blowing is to stay out of his line of sight for a while or feed him treats. He'll forgo covering you with snot if he's been bought off. He's a clever one, got us training.

One thing we had always wished we could do with Dollar was take him trail riding in the mountains. Unfortunately, he's old enough now to be retired, so that will not happen with him. But here is an image of a trail we enjoyed when hiking Mt. Hood: