h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Whereas my granny would sing :

"Now she wants a big otter and egg man
From way out in the West
She wants somebody who's workin' all day
So she's got money when she wants to play"

Bring me sunshine, bring me otter Maybe mal needs an ottery themetune to play when she's coming out, onto the frield of battle, with her warhourse and ready to joust .... I'm thinking ... kinda like in the Rockey films... coming into the ring... only, with a warhourse and jousting err pole or whatever they're called

An otter a day keeps the beaver away...but I'm not sure about war horses

Keep your warhourses close, and your otters closer Or so they used to say, with an otter a day, and a ying hiddy hey, we'll keep the evil gnomes, and beevers at bey, sitting in the hey, a warhourse in the hay, hey hey hey, its just otter day, sitting in the hey, with a warhourse in the way, lettuce hey hey hey, to keep our otters at bey, and until another day, wence the otters say, yet again, hey hey hey. my brains gone all pecular....

So they used to say...before the 2legs-restriction Act came into effect, in order to protect...numerous creatures, and global cheese supplies

as by pure chance, I just ate some cheese! smoked Dutch cheese... sliced... between two slices of poppy seed and onion bread, that I made a few hours ago plenty of butter, of course

Let me just add that I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences...

Here is one trick for you http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLoYFvbR0XY

F S

We'll work on it.

Hi Mal


I didn't mean to challenge you, if you can get Jack 1/4 as well trained as Trigger was you will never have to draw another house he will make your fortune giving expositions.

Palominos are some of the smartest horses I've ever met. This reminds me of a story, if it's not too boring. This is not intended as a brag, I am not a horse person like you, I have not sat in a saddle for over 30 years. But, there was one time I met a horse and we both learned to respect each other, at least in my own mind.

It was the summer of 1970, or '71, my friend Jim and I decided to spend our weekends camping in rural north Florida. One weekend we chose a camp ground on the Withalacochee River. We met a couple of 'cowboys' who had decided to start a horse riding attraction (I will not dignify it with a title like 'Dude Ranch' we weren't that fancy). They had about a dozen or two horses, only three remain clear in my mind, and I will tell you about them.

After a few weekends of building fences and mucking out stalls we were accepted, we were each assigned a horse for our personal use while we were there. Jim was given a white gelding named 'Casper' and I was assigned to a large (15 1/2 hands to the withers) mare with the unique name 'Mare' (they were not very clever in naming their horses).

'Casper' had been broke in Mexico and had a very tender mouth. He would not accept a curb bit, and even with a snaffle he would rear and buck with the slightest pressure. 'Mare' on the other hand was green broke and had never learned to neck reign. I think I got her both because I was tall enough to mount without assistance, and I figured out how to plough reign (for others reading 'plough reign' means you physically pull the horses head in the direction you want to go).

Then there was 'Goldie', a Golden Palomino mare (an other original name ) She was the smartest horse in the remuda, She was cow broke for ranching, not only could she neck reign, you could wrap the reigns around the saddle horn and steer with your knees. If you dropped the reigns to the ground she would stop - dead still - and not move until you remounted (part of the training for cutting out cows and calves). She was smart - and she knew it!

One weekend, soon after we had arrived, the head wrangler came up to me. 'Dale', he said, 'we are having a problem with 'Goldie' We take her out on rides and she starts limping and will not keep up with the group. We had her checked out by the veterinarian and the farrier - there is nothing wrong with her legs, hooves or shoes - we think she is just playing games. I have seen how you interact with the other horses, I don't expect anything, but could you see what you can do with her?'

I took it up as an interesting challenge, a bit surprised I had been asked by the 'experts'. Our usual ride started in the camp ground and paused at a large sand area that contained several large pools of sweet water. We would let the horses drink for 5 minutes or so before heading out to the dirt road behind the camps. The whole ride lasted for about 45 minutes or so. The rides were always led by someone from the stable, and usually a large group would be followed by another riding 'sweep' ready to help anyone having trouble with their horse.

On this morning my friend Jim volunteered to lead the ride. I took him aside and told him I was going to ride with them on 'Goldie', but not as a real part of the group. He was not to stop or wait for me. One of the owners agreed to ride 'sweep'. and we set out.

Sure to form 'Goldie' started her limp and fell well to the rear of the group, I let her. At last we turned the corner and there was the rest of the herd happily drinking and resting. 'Goldie's' ears went up and her limp disappeared when she saw the treat! I immediately gave a yell, dug my heels into her flanks and beat her rump with my cowboy hat. After a few strides at full gallop my hat fell into the sand so I switched to beating her neck with the reigns. She made a grand circle around the others and all that tempting water and I drove her back to the road without a stop. When I reached my hat I put her on ground reign dismounted and recovered my my hat. When the others returned to the ride we fell in alongside the sweep and she behaved very well for the rest of the ride.

When we got back to the stable I walked her on bridle until I knew she was properly cool, returned her to her stall, made sure she had plenty of water and got a fresh pail of oats.

After that it was the custom that my first ride each weekend was on 'Goldie', usually alone. They said it settled her for the rest of the week

As I said I do not consider myself a horse person, at the time I considered buying her for myself, but I lived in the city and did not have the time, funds or interest that she deserved. I hope you enjoyed my little tale.

For those that read this and think I was being cruel, let me just point out that working horses who prove to unsuitable for what they were purchased for face a far worse fate than an occasional hard ride. for 'Goldie'

If you have made it this far

F S

Your story held my attention from beginning to end, FS - well done for the writing and the feat.

The excellent story can be turned into a comedy if you replace horse/Mare with otter

A fact, which, is, probably true for most books, or pieces of text...

In the beginning was the otter

Actually, "palomino" only describes the colour, they're not a breed. Therefore, as a group, they are no smarter, or less so, than horses of any other hue.

Here is my contribution to the otter diversion far from the OP:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/17/otter-rampage-restaurant-norway_n_4978568.html?utm_hp_ref=weird-news


Also check out the zoo's valentine to the otters. It is cute.

You are correct Yar, that palominos are not a true breed - you can not mate two palominos and have any expectation of producing a palomino foal. There are, however, several 'color breed' societies here in the US. I found an interesting link on the subject http://www.horse-genetics.com/horse-colors.html.
When I wrote 'Palominos are some of the smartest horses I've ever met.' I only intended to give a personal observation. I did not mean to imply that they were the smartest horses on earth, I am sure that some can be as smart as a rock. It is also almost certain that smarter horses exist, I have just not met them personally

I am certain a lot depends on early training.

The thought of getting an otter into a gallop frightens me I would also think the stirrup straps must be quite short



F S

You could have a romp of otters attached to a chariot

Isn't it called a congress of otters, though

Maybe not. Congresses are usually otterly boring

I believe both are legitimate terms, there's probably otters to

So many otters, so little thyme... More otters than you could throw a bucket of eels at, in fact, as my Grandmother would, and often, did, remark

The problem with sitting on otters is that they tend to be damp and slippery...