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Kat is right about letting the horse rename itself. 

About 30 years ago, I went to see a horse that was for sale. He was 1/2 Arabian 
and !/2 Saddlebred. Just under 16 hands tall, Beautiful light dabble grey, Five 
years old and built broad like a quarter horse, but with the Arabian quickness 
and grace. They were city folks and scared to death of him, as he had learned a 
few tricks to make their rides short in duration. When they came to halter him, 
he would rise on his hind legs. When they tried to get him in a pen, he would 
run them over. At 16 hands and probably over 1100 pounds this left an 
impression on them. (physically and mentally.) When they would finally get him 
saddled, he would pull hard on them for about a mile until he got to  a T in 
the road. There he would rear up, spin  around and gallop home. He would stop 
at the gate to let them off, so he could be unsaddled, given grain and turned 
out. The people said they loved him, but just couldn't figure out why he did 
that.. Go figure.  

So I watched him roaring around the pen. (To catch him, they put out grain, 
made us all go into the house, while one snuck out the back door, crawled 
through a ditch, snuck around the bar and closed the gate.) As he flew around, 
I thought he was as`beautiful and spirited a horse as I had ever seen.  "What's 
his name?", I asked, prepared for something royal and proud.
"Why we call him Buttermilk", was the response. 

"Buttermilk!!!????Why in the world would you give a horse like this a name like 
Buttermilk?" I sputtered in shock.

"Well if you look carefully, when he sheds out in the summer , he has a little 
place on his right shoulder that looks like somebody spilled buttermilk on him" 
  What the heck?

I told my wife that Buttermilk was not that horses name and no wonder he acted 
up every time they called him that. We would have to re-name him. 

They had loaded him into  a trailer one time in his life. It took four or five 
men several hours to do so. They planned to have a stock trailer and men 
gathered for me to take him home. I said that since I only lived about 6 miles 
away by gravel  and dirt roads , we would just ride him home. Despite all his 
antics, I had met his eye  and saw that he was honest, just spoiled   rotten.  
After 5-6 miles I told them, I should be able to get him under control, or we 
could just do  another loop. 

The next morning I came over saddled him up and took off. Instead of letting 
him run away with me, I kept him to  a brisk trot. When we got to the T in the 
road, I urged him into  a run. We flew through the turn headed for my farm.  
Whenever he would slaken his speed, I would  keep him running. Finally, he 
determined that he was time to do his rearing and spinning trick and head back 
home. Just as he slowed to  a stop, I jerked his head to the side and made him 
spin in circles until  I was dizzy as heck. I settled him facing the way to my 
home and started him off again at a slow trot. We had gone about 1/4 mle and I 
felt him tensing up to try again, and without waiting for it, spun him around 
and around until we were both really dizzy. Then we walked.

After a nice quiet couple of mles, we were bonding and getting close to home, 
and I noticed my saddle was off to the side a bit. So I planted a foot firmly 
in the stirrup and threw my weight to bring it centered  again. The next thing 
I knew, I was falling off to the right and then hit the road hard. This being 
pre-endurance, my saddle was a big heavy western rig with a horn. I  hammered 
into the dry hard roadbed, flat on my back, and then the saddle hit me with the 
horn striking my chest dead center. It took my breath away, ( and left a heck 
of a bruise), and I blacked out for a second. Then I was aware that the back of 
my head was resting against the rear of his cocked front hoof. My feet were 
still in the stirrups, and the saddle had slid around and was held on to him by 
the breast collar. He had stopped dead in his tracks, and just looked down at 
me in shock. Of course when I fell I dropped the reins. He never stirred while 
I got out of the stirrups and out from under the
saddle. I clambered out from underneath him. Limped around. Undid the breast 
collar, and threw the saddle into the  ditch. The girth had broken during our 
spinning, and we had been riding free for over a mile.   We looked at each 
other and I said to him " Well you silly %#@, You just had your best chance to 
kill me and didn't. We are going to  be stuck together a long time."

The  next few days, we got to know each other and he turned into  a great 
horse. I  still refused to rename him. My wife and kids kept coming up with 
names, but I just called him "boy".  After a while I noticed that people who 
saw him remarked on how well he traveled.  After I had been with him for about 
a week, we were riding alongside the US highway, and a car pulled over to watch 
us go past. They turned around and watched us again and waved us to  a stop.  A 
lady asked if he was part Arabian, and i saifd yes. She said her husband, a 
large man,  wanted a National Show horse and would pay top dollar for him.  I 
said he wa not for sale. She kept upping her bid to $3,000. (It was in the 
early 80's We were poor farmers, and had given $665.00 for him, his dam, a 
saddle and all the headgear for both horses.)  I told her that $50,000 wouldn't 
buy him. She said it was a shame as he was sure a traveler.  I thanked her for 
helping he choose his new name. Robert E. Lee rode a big grey horse
named Traveler during the Civil War. He was much admired for his heart and 
disposition. So Buttermilk became Traveler, and gave me 20 great years before 
passing on.He ran loose on over 200 acres with other horses and cattle, but 
whenever I called his new name, he never failed to come running.  This was 
before I even knew that Endurance Riding existed. We would ride 11 miles down a 
dirt road into town to get a soda, and then canter most of the way back home. 
He was always indeed a Traveler, never a Buttermilk.

Paul N. Sidio
Fortunate enough to have shared time with four great horses so far, and maybe 
one more who is turning out to be so.
Spokane MO



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