After my last great attempt at horse riding, Adventures in Cowboying,
I decided I needed some spurs. Jason said I needed to learn how to ride first.
If you are any kind of a real cowboy, stop reading right here and go rope a goat or something, this will not impress you one iota. But if you are like me, a dude who doesn’t know the difference between a halter and a bridle, continue reading and be impressed.
Be very impressed.
I just want you to know, I have absolutely no business with these. My darling husband, whose desire is to fulfill my every whim, bought these for me, yes even though he knew I had no business with them. That’s just how he is. They’re cheapies. I wouldn’t have known, but he felt the need to tell me. It didn’t damper my enthusiasm.
Cheap or not, they still poke a horse, which I found out after trying them out with the trusty mount, Money.
Wearing these things got this horse’s attention and scared my socks off. As soon as I dismounted, I took those bad boys off with the ninja quickness. Translation: they were removed at an accelarated rate.
On a good note, I found a horse. He’s just perfect for me. Not a bit snorty. And I don’t think he’ll mind my spurs too much.
My other pets are the dust bunnies under the bed.
Just keeping it real,