Chet Is Ready For Summer of 2008 SHOWDEO Schedule

This story begins way back when I was barely seven years old. For it was at that time that my Grandfather brought home my first horse, a Shetland Pony named, "Pete". He had named him after a Tulsa bail bondsman named, Pete King, who was frequently used by our family to bail certain members out of the Tulsa County Jail. (That's another story, and I will gladly write about it when I get the time and the energy to provide all of the background. It's rather complicated, but entirely true and entertaining.)

Well, "Pete the Pony" took me through the formative stages of my cowboy youth, and if you have ever been around Shetland Ponies, then you know why it is today that I am pretty capable of handling most horses. So, now that I have a little boy of my own, I wanted him to have the same opportunities of experiencing the joys of owning his own horse, just as I did, growing up on a small ranch in northeast Oklahoma.

During this last summer Chet was riding his horse, "TEE," when something unusual occurred. "TEE is a little large for Chet and when I bought her, I thought he would be able to handle her without any problems. Well, I was wrong.

Chet was participating in a rodeo "Playday" for little buckaroos, when his horse, "TEE", for no logical reason, began to "crow hop." For you "green horns" that don't spend much time riding horses, a "crow hop" is a slight bucking of the horse, which sometimes ends up with the cowboy on the ground. Thus was the situation with Chet Jenkins, for he not only ended up on the ground, he bounced backwards off the saddle, was propelled through the air, and struck the arena dirt with a loud and provoking, "thud." While this little experience did not waver our little cowpoke, Daddy and Mommy decided that we needed a smaller horse for the Chet man.

Although my Grandfather, Clifford Jenkins, passed away several years ago, I am convinced that he continues to take care of me in the most peculiar ways. It doesn't bother me if you don't believe it or not, but he truly provides for my family and I. And, just as he provided me with "Pete," I know that he was the inspiration in locating a new pony for little Chet. And this is how it all happened.

I got up one morning, a few weeks before Christmas, and told Marti that we needed to begin an all out search for just the right horse for Chet. We didn't especially desire a Shetland, and we knew that the horse needed to be about 12 or 13 hands high, at least eight years old, and most of all, "dead broke." We knew that just locating such a horse would be a huge undertaking, much like finding a needle in a haystack, and I expected it to take several months and a whole bunch of money.

Well, believe it or not, on that very day I happened to drop by "Drysdale's Western Store," in preparation for Christmas holiday shopping. As I walked into the store I casually glanced at the bulletin board that maintains all types of classified and personal ads. There, among all of the advertisements for puppy dogs, stock trailers, baby sitters, and upcoming rodeo events, was a picture of a pony. I took a closer look and noticed that a couple was selling a small horse that was considered a part of their family. The advertisement had been placed on the Internet, so I suspected the little guy was long gone. He was 13 hands high, barely twelve years old, had been rodeoed on for several years, and was originally used as a part of a summer youth camp program. "Whatever," I thought, "that horse was probably sold a year ago and the lousy Drysdale's staff isn't sharp enough to clean up their outdated advertisements." But, just in case, I decided to telephone the number. Yeah, you're not going to believe this either. The ad had barely been posted, the pony was still for sale, and as it turned out, the owner and I were somewhat acquainted because of our jobs!

Long story short, "Colonel" the horse was purchased and he remained on the owner's property until Christmas Eve, when I snuck him home and placed him in our barn. We didn't give Chet any idea that Santa Clause was preparing to bring him a new horse; one that was quite a bit smaller than his "TEE" horse, who sort of bucked him off, which had left him somewhat annoyed.

On Christmas morning, after Chet had opened all of his presents, I stepped outside and found a sleigh bell laying on the front lawn. I yelled for Chet to come outside and together we began to find more and more of these sleigh bells scattered across the lawn. Chet raced along and methodically retrieved each and every one. All of a sudden the bells led directly to the barn, where he immediately noticed "TEE" comfortably inside her stall eating holiday oats and hay. But, Chet noticed something else, which was rather peculiar. There, in the stall next to "TEE's," was a new horse, one that Chet had never seen before. Let's just say for time's sake, that all of us were overcome with emotion. I have never witnessed such a surprised look on my little boy's face. It was worth everything we did to prepare for this special Christmas present.

These days "Colonel" has become known as "RIO" and practically runs the entire Jenkins household. He is very easy with Chet, loves to play with me at feeding time, and simply annoys the heck out of Marti. "RIO" is, without a doubt, one of the most incredible horses I have ever known. As far as holidays I have known, this will have been one of my most memorable Christmas' ever. And, I owe it all to my Grandfather, who brought home "Pete" when I was seven and made it all possible for me to bring home, "Colonel," when his great grandson was just four years old. I love you and know you were there on Christmas morning.