Tale of Woe

I learned to French braid on a horse’s tail. Ransom became my most recent victim when on a whim, I plaited his tail before riding him. The reddish-black hairs were like tiny wires against my fingers as I tried to separate them with one hand.

When I finished, I looked down to discover a mass of hair at my feet. How had this happened? Had it occurred to me to grab the detangler from my tack locker? No. Brush his tail before I started? No. Sparse manes and tails are characteristic of the Appaloosa breed; this was the sacrifice I made for spots. Ransom’s tail couldn’t afford to lose this much bulk!

If I’d been riding English, Ransom might have been able to pull off the look, but with a Western saddle, the braid was incongruous. Though the braid itself turned out well, it made his meager tail look even thinner. Ransom, too, was less than pleased with the diminished fly-swatting capability of his new adornment. That, or he was embarrassed to be seen by the other geldings. He swished his tail irritably as he trotted around on the lunge line, attempting to make the braid fall out simply from flapping it.

I relented, pulling the strands loose before I mounted. Next time, I decided, I’d save the braiding for shows.