Robbie Daugherty on Horses

One reason for having this blog is that I can share information with readers that I don't have room for in Prairie Roots. The following is from a Dec. 1961 article from Wessington Times (SD). The article was contributed by Robert Leslie Daugherty. I remember Robbie and his house and horse. I've heard so many positive comments concerning this brother of my grandpa Fred I. Daugherty.

"To those who were fortunate enough to be raised on the farm and who recall the days before the tractor and the automobile, the horse was the most faithful and essential animal on the farm - and next to the dog, the most human. Horses responded to kindness and good treatment and when properly trained would do the right thing at the right time. The loss of a horse was almost a calamity to the early pioneers.

Well-treated horses seemed to enjoy a good day's work and they knew and understood how much was expected of them. On a cloudy day, and without a watch to tell the time, all a person had to do was watch the team to see if the horses were willing to make another round. When it was necessary to work an hour or two extra to finish a distant field, it took a little convicincing to get the horses started on the last rounds. Once they sensed that the end was in sight, they speeded up their pace.

The day's work done, the horses would file into the barn in single column. There they stood patiently waiting to have the harnesses taken off their often sweaty bodies. As the harnesses' were pulled off and placed on the pins on the cement wall to the rear, they shook their bodies with great relief. On warm summer nights after their evening oats, they were sometimes turned out for relaxation. The first thing they did was to find a level spot where they would lie down on the ground and then roll over back and forth several times.

It would take too much space to tell about the "horse sense" of horses. Many of the early settlers owed their lives to the horses who knew how to find their way home in a storm when the driver didn't. Horses were even an aid to romance, as many a team of horses walked home on a star-lit night with the reins wound lightly around the buggy whip stand.

It is with mingled sadness and regret that we old-times view the passing of the horse from the farms of the Upper Northwest. The empty stalls and in so many cases the old harnesses, now covered with cob webs and grime is all that is left. Is it distance that lends enchantment to the view? We old-timers think not."

Wow...Robbie said it all! I know you'll enjoy this picture of him and his horse.