JIMMY DEAN AND BRIAN’S PUMPKIN

One year in the late 1960s, we went up to the Ada, Oklahoma, Quarter Horse Sale to buy a gelding for one of my customers’ teen aged daughters and ended up buying two. I kept a bay Brian H gelding that stood a little over 15 hands tall, named Brian’s Pumpkin. He had come off one of the big ranches in Oklahoma and was green broke, which meant he’d had a saddle on him but tht was about it. When I started riding him, I soon realized what a spook he was. If I got too still and quiet on him and then moved or spoke, he would break in two bucking with me, so I had to talk to him or sing to him (God forbid) the entire time I was on his back so he wouldn’t forget I was there. I always rode him with my anti-buck device, which was a piggin’ string hung around his neck, then threaded through the pommel to hook over the saddle horn. If a horse tried to get his head down, which is what they did when they bucked, he would choke himself. Punk was a really handy horse with a great way of going, but he was a perpetual daydreamer. If he was asleep in his stall and there was any loud bang, like a water bucket hitting the wall in some other stall, he would squall and just start bucking in his stall. He had great conformation,

a really pretty head, but he was just so bay, with no white markings at all. You had to really look at him to see what a fine horse he was. At the time, I had several junior horses that I was showing, so Punk didn’t get to go to shows that much. I won some halter classes with him, but he was too big a spook for Western Pleasure. I was still riding him with a bosal and, which is a sort of noseband that takes the place of a bit, when I decided to send him over to an old cowboy friend who was known for his ability to bit out horses really well. He kept the horse for about six weeks, and when I brought him home, I couldn’t wait to get on him. I saddled him up and put a fairly high-ported bit, with a hump in the bar that goes into the horse’s mouth, so I’d have more subtle control. I still didn’t trust him that much. He was big and stout, and I already knew he could buck. Why I didn’t take him to the arena first, I’ll never know, but instead I rode out in the pasture on him. We were loping along when tall goat weeds started hitting him in the belly. I felt him starting to bow up and I got a good hold on him, I thought. Well, he swallowed his head and started bucking. Every jump pulled me another notch out of the saddle, kinda like an old school room clock. I absolutely could not get his head up… or double him (bending his head around to the side so he would be forced to turn). Finally, I went over his head and hit the end of the reins like the popper on the end of a whip. The ground followed right after that. Up until that day, I had never been thrown that hard. I guess I had never been on a horse whose head I couldn’t pull up. I think you get the picture, this horse was a bronc, but I didn’t give up on him. Four or five months later, the Houston Livestock Show began, and I took six or eight horses to the show, including Brian’s Pumpkin. Since Buster was on the Board of Directors and I was Chairman of one committee, Vice-Chairman of another, and a member of several more committees, I could take my horses in to the show early and stay late. The guest star that year was Jimmy Dean, and the stars rehearsed for a couple of days before the show opened. Every night they were rehearsing, I saddled Punk and took him down into the Astrodome to see and hear all the music and see all the boogers. I really do not have to tell you how far his hair stood up or his eyes bugged out. Well, on the first night of rehearsal, Jimmy Dean had been watching me ride my goofy horse around that monster arena, and after he finished with his part of the rehearsal, he walked over to me and told me what a good-looking horse I was riding. Then, he asked if he could ride him. Oh, my gawd! Dean was 6’3” or 6’4” and Punk had never looked back and seen legs that long. Plus, I had no idea how well Dean rode, but I stepped off and explained that the horse was a terrible spook and could be a real bronc. I’m sure Jimmy Dean thought if that little girl can ride him, I certainly can. I was hoping the show had plenty of liability insurance, because I was about to kill their star. Dean let out my stirrups as far as they would go and then eased up onto the horse. Punk started to tremble and go down with his front legs out straight in front of him like a dog getting ready to lie down. Dean didn’t hesitate—just stepped on up and let the horse settle. He shook out the reins a bit and quietly eased him off. He walked him around the whole floor of the astrodome, then trotted and finally eased him off in an easy little lope, and that is when I finally exhaled. Brian’s Pumpkin acted like a real gentleman. Jimmy Dean rode ole Punk for about 30 minutes, loping up and coming to a nice easy sliding stop… backed him a few steps and got off. I have never been so relieved in my life. Of all the gentle horses I had that I could have been on that night, it had to be the biggest spook and bronc in the barn. I learned later that Jimmy Dean was quite a horseman and owned a number of good Quarter Horses.