On Thanksgiving, Grosvenor Merle-Smith, jt-MFH of Tennessee Valley Hunt, decided to whip in the entire hunt with a turkey on his head. Over coops, on a run, gathering hounds, etc. It never came off, even when ducking under the low branches over the skinny coop. Gro never met a costume contest he didn't win.
Have you got a favorite Thanksgiving hunting or horse-related story? How about a funny caption for this photo? Share it in the comments.
Every first-time breeder must learn the same valuable lesson: a watched mare never foals.
Forecast: Batten down the hatches [tonight]. A strong storm system across the Southeast may produce damaging wind with gusts over 60 mph and thunderstorms, as well as one-inch hail, isolated tornadoes and lightning.” (Actual forecast from WBIR news in Knoxville, Tenn. for the night of April 2, 2009.)
“I’ve been conned,” I kept thinking the closer the clock got to 3 a.m.
I went to the airline counter at a little after midnight. “It’s probably in Phoenix, but it will take at least 24 hours to locate it,” said the airline representative of my bag. That was not good news, as Lynn’s traveling foxhunting crew was picking me up at 7 a.m. to go on the road trip to Belmont.
Belmont is a ghost town in central Nevada about 7,400 feet in elevation. It has no public utilities: no electricity, no mail, no phones, and no stores to buy the needed particulars to replace those currently vacationing with my luggage.