My son started him for a friend when Boston was three years old. He was still a stud. My friend said that when he made his first mistake she’d geld him. He started like a dream and it appeared like he read ahead in the school book between rides, as everything was so easy for him to learn and his willing nature made him fun to train. Unfortunately, he ended up getting an injury before fall was over and my friend took him home to let him heal up. In the following years my friend rode him occasionally but never really got him finished. Like most trainers, she didn’t have time to ride her own. She rode the ones who made her living. He was just kind of a pet she kept around. She finally bought a couple of nice mares to breed to him to justify having him be a stud. He hadn’t made a mistake yet, as she’d remind me. Unfortunately, my friend got an aggressive cancer and knew she wasn’t going to make it. She had me disperse her horses and made sure her son, who was overseas in the Army, knew that she wanted Colin and I to have Boston. After she died, I hired a transport to bring him out to our place from Iowa, having not seen him since he’d gone back as a three year old colt. He was stunningly beautiful and still hadn’t made a mistake, so we left him a stud. Boston was about 11 years old when he came back to us and his education really got started. He hadn’t been ridden in about two years and rode off just fine. Colin put him to work when he could make it home from his job out of state, so he was not ridden steady, but was still an apt pupil and had a sweet attitude in spite of being a mature stallion. He’d worked cattle, dragged logs and suchlike, but hadn’t been to the branding pen yet. The spring of Boston’s 12-year-old year, he was taken to his first branding. It was a lot for a stud to take in at the peak of breeding season, but he was behaving like the good guy he was and just taking it all in. Colin let him watch from inside the pen before he ever roped anything. It was a head and heel branding and the calves were big and feisty. When he’d had a chance to see it all Colin rode him into the calves and let him stand against the back fence and see it all up close. That didn’t concern him at all. When Colin roped his first one and headed out through the sea of people and wrestlers holding calves on the ground, another good hand rode in close and walked out through it all with him. Boston never made a bad move and after that was good to go. Holding those big, heavy calves wasn’t any problem for him and he cheerfully did his job, green but willing. Colin had roped a big heifer calf and headed out of the pen with her as the heeler rode in to scoop up her back feet. The calf was pretty salty and kept bucking and kicking and just as they were clear of the pen she got out of the heel loop and ran hard past Boston, who was pointed away from the pen. Instantly things got serious! The rope slid under Boston’s tail and he clamped down on it as it sizzled its way through. Colin popped his dallies, but the rope was firmly held by Boston’s clamped tail. Boston knew he had to get out of his predicament, so before Colin could help, Boston turned left, nope, that didn’t help, then right, which also didn’t help. Having used up two options, he concluded that the answer would be to sit down. Yep. He sat down like a big, black dog, tail clamped tight and calf pulling. This all happened very fast, don’t you know, and at this point, Colin decided he probably needed to exit the wreck, so stepped off just as the calf got mugged by several cowboys and wasn’t pulling any more, so the pressure was off of Boston. Boston sat there, rope still clamped, until Colin asked him to stand up. He did. He showed absolutely no concern about anything, no excitement, no white around his eyes, no snorting, nothing. Colin lifted Boston’s tail up so the rope could fall free and looked at the burned groove on the smooth skin under the base of his tail. He was even burned across the buttocks on each side. Poor guy! I had a tube of lip balm in my pocket, so while Colin held Boston’s tail up, I used my finger and slathered it on the groove that was practically still sizzling. Boston never flinched. I put it on the light burns on his buttocks to help stop the burning, and he never moved. He just stood there while we did it and trusted us to help him.
Everyone was absolutely amazed at how Boston had handled what could have been a wild bronc ride and wreck. After the excitement settled down, the branding went on. So, not wanting to leave that as the biggest memory from the branding for Boston, Colin stepped back on and rode back into the pen. He thought Boston might have some issue with dragging one out again, but, true to his nature, he just went in and did his job, bringing a calf out while the heeler rode in and got the heels with no problems. Boston turned to face when asked and never had a bobble. He roped more calves, both ends, before Colin took his turn on the ground. While he was tying Boston up and loosening his cinches, a guy that trains a lot of horses came by and said that he didn’t think many horses should be studs, but he believed that Boston was one that definitely should. Boston is a gelding now, as he finally made a mistake and had some problems breeding mares and he was gelded at 13. He has been a stellar saddle horse in the years since, packing Colin into any job that needed done, plus being the trusted mount of the smallest children. He’s probably taken tens of thousands of calves to the branding fire, doctored pasture cattle of all sizes, plus shagged bulls out of the arena and picked up broncs. He still, day in and day out, just does his job, whatever it is. He’s a good one and deserves his semi-retirement at 20 years old. If I were to pick a horse for one of my little grandkids to drag their first calf to the fire with, you can bet it would be Boston. He’s the only horse I’ve ever seen react to a rope under the tail by sitting down. His answer to a confusing event is to stop moving and figure it out. That’s probably why he just doesn’t make many mistakes.
Jan was raised on a ranch in far western South Dakota. She grew up horseback working all descriptions of cattle, plus sheep and horses. After leaving home she pursued a post-graduate study of cowboying and dayworking in Nebraska, New Mexico, Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota....
