A Short Course for Spouses:
The name on a horse’s registration papers usually gives you an immediate fact about the horse. Think of it as an advertising label. Both the possible hype, and the possible truth.
Knowing a Thoroughbred is named Rough Seas Ahead makes me guess there’s a strong likelihood she’s got War Admiral or Sea Biscuit somewhere in her lineage. (She has both.)
I’ve already said I had the worst first horse a child could possibly ever have. If my parents had had a clue about horses and registered names, she probably wouldn’t have been my first horse.
She was a straight legged, hammer headed, strong backed, roaned out Appaloosa (stereotypically not known for their affectionate nature) mare (add hormone fluctuations to crankiness) with a nice short ewe-neck set low on her shoulders. She was built like a tank.
Perfect for the discipline she was bred for.
But they were city people.
Her full registered name?
Spitz ‘Em Out
Chews ‘Em Up
Otherwise known affectionately as “Chewy” on the Pro Bronc Riding circuit. If my folks had known about the relative truth in advertising that goes with registered horse names (and the practice of unscrupulous horse dealers to sedate the horse right before you’re scheduled to show up), they might have investigated a little more closely. But hey, the price was unbeatable! Where are you going to find a deal like $300 for a pure bred horse with PAPERS. And that’s with 90 days of training. She was practically free.
Perfect for a 12 year old whose closest horse encounter was sitting stock still on a grumpy Shetland pony seven years ago.
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