Features > Humor ...

They've been circulated in a thousand emails, but they're funny 'cause they're true.

You know you're a horseperson when ...

Your non-horsy friend gives you a funny look after glancing into the back seat of your car, and you realize he's noticed your whips and spurs.

You clean your tack after every ride but never, ever, ever wash the car.

When you step on the gas and your car accelerates to get you out of a tight spot, you pat it on the dash and say "Good boy!"

Your car is the only one in the company parking lot with mud splashes on the windshield.

You dress like a lawyer on weekdays and someone who needs a lawyer on your days off -- bonus points for those who go grocery shopping in barn clothes, without shame.

You patch your mud boots with duct tape and slog through knee deep mud to get hay to your horse, who has commandeered the ONLY dry spot for miles.

You often sneak furtively into laundromats and pretend that you really didn't just put that stinky, filthy horse blanket into the comforter-sized machine.

You can find your boots in the dark by the aroma - but you don't mind because it smells like the barn - or perhaps you don't even notice the smell that your spouse constantly complains about.

You plan your pregnancy around the show season.
.
Your children have everything they need to become Olympic equestrians -- except wealthy parents.

Your boyfriend complains that you love your horse more then you love him and you answer: "And your point is?"

You chose your significant other partly on the basis of his tolerance of your horse habit.

Your mother, who has no grandchildren, gets cards addressed to Grandma, signed by the horses and the dog.

The horses are the only ones that get fed by you. Kids and spouse fend for themselves, unless they don't mind waiting until after dark for supper.

You poke your honey in the ribs, saying, "over", in the kitchen.

You kiss your horse more often than your husband or boyfriend, and enjoy it more.
.
Your baby shower gifts include a fleece seat saver.

You clean stalls the morning before your labor is to be induced.

You know your *daughter* is a horse person when she asks if she can wash her saddle pad with her clothes, because she doesn't have a full load and doesn't want her brother's clothes contaminating hers.

You use the house-hunting trip your new employer provides to figure out where you will board your horse.

You go to the museum with a non-horsey friend and, whilst wandering through the ancient bronzes, suddenly realize he is asking exasperatedly, 'Well? What about the conformation on this one?"

You have a small knife on your key chain (and you're a woman).

You plan corn on the cob for dinner just so you can feed the cobs to your horses for a treat.

You consider a pristine golf course as a waste of a good cross-country course.

You are totally grossed out by human hair in the sink or tub, but don't mind horsehair in your washer, on your clothes, in your food...

You don't mind throwing the frozen manure balls for the barn dog to fetch.

You don't even want to think about how your car would be paid for, your mortgage would be much smaller, you could afford a vacation, and you might have some savings ... if you didn't have horses.

You know that a hoofpick doubles as a flat-head screwdriver.

You save the hoof shavings for the dog.

On rainy days, you organize the tack room, not the house.

You stop channel surfing at Budweiser Clydesdale commercials.

Books and movies are ruined for you if horsemanship references are incorrect.

You've considered moving into the barn, since it is cleaner than the house.

Your horse seems the right choice when you need to talk something out with someone.

You find yourself analyzing leg and foot conformation on your friends, and thinking how corrective shoeing could improve their way of going.

You jump out of bed at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday to feed before an early ride, but barely hear the 5:00 a.m. alarm on Monday morning.

You have more pictures of your horses in your office than you have of your family.

You leave work feeling stiff, tense, with a stomach- or headache, and all those feelings disappear the minute you go through the first gate to the ranch.

The concept of sleeping in on the weekends has long since faded from your memory.

You get out of your warm bed at 3:00 AM, and go outside to let the horses in because it's snowing (that wet, heavy stuff). If that's not enough, you scrape off the snow, and even dry them off a little before going back to bed, only to leave for work at 6, and see them back outside, with 2 inches of snow piled on their backs. No, that won't happen again.

Your breezeway/mud room has hay and crud all over the floor, a saddle on a rack along the wall, misc. tack hanging from the chairs, muddy boots and gloves, etc. lying about. Someone's coming to visit. You don't care.

You RUSH to the front window to watch the horses run & buck in the pasture, even if you're in the middle of a meal. Good, clean fun!

You giggle when the horse you're driving farts in your face.

The only thing your friends, colleagues, passing acquaintances can think of when they see you is "How are the horses?" or "How many horses do you have now?" or "Are you still riding?"

You spend more on that 6 year old jumper than you've EVER spent on a car!

You save every horse magazine you have ever bought (including ten years of Practical Horseman).

You choose your new dog by which breed is best with the horses.

Your horse has its mane pulled more often than you get a hair cut.

Every time you drive past a road construction sight you think what nice jumps the barricades would make.