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Much has been made of the intelligence of horses - mainly as to whether they have it or not. Horses have a sense of humor, therefore, they are intelligent beings. It is that simple.

I raised horses for over 20 years, for a variety of uses, from driving to rodeo. I have found about every creative way there is to fall off a horse, and / or to be injured while involved with them, and some of the incidents have been pretty funny.

Years ago, I had the luck to shoe Brew Master, who was a big old former open jumper, with a surprisingly soft mouth but like many old geldings, not much patience with the antics of bully-boy riders. Brew Master had a trot like bricks falling off a roof, and a canter that made even experienced riders slosh from pommel to cantle.

His owner leased him to a woman with a spoiled, simpering, obnoxious 15-year-old son who wanted a big horse for whatever 'reason'. The boy quickly found out that if he wasn't nice to Brew, the old man would find any number of ways to get even. Geldings are, I believe, all Bhuddists in a former life, because so many of them specialize in passive resistance. If you know horses, you know what I mean.

The boy was 'cowboying it up' one day, and Brew Master let him know plainly after about 30 minutes of nonsense that he wasn't impressed by the spurs, the quirt, the attempts at sliding stops, or any of the rest of it, and he took the bit in his teeth and went back to the barn at a determined-but-ground-eating walk. Where he stood, solid and immovable as a rock, no matter what the boy did or how loudly he shouted... until he had had enough of the ruckus occuring up on his 17-2 - hand back.

Suddenly, he turned his head and looked at the boy with the wickedest gleam in his eye. I could see it from where I was working, 20 feet away. He took the bit in his mouth, turned over his haunches, and began to canter down the driveway toward the country road this stable was on. The boy tried to rein him in at the road, but Brew wasn't having any.. He hurdled the road.

They boy let out a screech, lost his seat, and began hanging on to anything, yelling like a baby for help. Brew cantered down along the road as if he were out for a pleasant ride; ears up, mane flying, he was gorgeous. Maybe he was having a good ride..

Some men were haying, heard the boy, and tore out to try to head off Brew Master. He turned back over his haunches, hanging the boy from his neck (not that it mattered), and went back along the road at an easy, ground-eating

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