Can't hold wild horses or even Elroy

As soon as Elroy was leashed and let out of the truck at the Wild Horse Santuary, something made his senses go crazy.  I could barely keep hold of his leash as something in the air seemed to want him to run and run fast.  Was it the sense of the place to be wild and have freedoom or the pungent smell of horses or both-I don't know.

As I'm writing this (have to admit I'm old school and hand write stuff to compose), I was interrupted to give a guided tour of this grand old 1905 neo-classical house.  A party of 9 from MN.  I enjoy asking the kids a trick question in the kitchen-where's the microwave.  Even adults start looking around!

 Visitors ususally get a tour from Ron at the railcar before me and he is known to have them ask me a question-like where's the ghost or did I take my meds today.  Funny when it was reversed recently and strange females were giving him a kiss because it was his birthday.  A tradition he's decided that should be continued often.  I wonder what our leader will think if they overhear one of his stories to the public.  "If you have a question please ask and if I don't know the answer, I'll lie so good you won't tell."  etc. etc.

Back to the horses.  This 11,000 acre ranch is home to hundreds of unwanted and over populated mustangs primarily from state and federal lands across the country.  It's their last chance of a home instead of a glue factory or such.  The old school bus brings us close to them in the fields and all of the cameras inside start clicking.  Most of my pictures are of horses butts with heads down chomping on grass.  But they are absolutely beautiful and so many different colors and sizes.  Recently they phased out the Horses Helping Horses program where gentled yearlings were sold to help the bottom line in this non-profit.  The poor economy stopped the sale of new foals and also the stallions fun at the same time.  But they still have a few yearlings and 2 year olds for sale if your interested.

Behind the horses on the cliff are pictographs some hundreds of thousands years old.  Both Indians and settlers carved their mark here in the canyon by the Cheyenne River.

When we finally got back to the truck, what do we see but Elroy sitting in the trucks front seat behind the steering wheel ready to go.  I just don't know if he wanted out of there or wanted to join the horses.  But I do know one thing, he doesn't drive.

Elroy meets big buffalo & other things

Here is the big 2000 lb brute.  They roam wherever they want to in Custer State Park.  Elroy sometimes acts dumb.  Can you believe he had the audacity to bark at this huge creature?  Maybe he thought being in a truck was safe.  But it doesn't matter, the bison or buffalo (whichever) didn't even raise an eyebrow-just kept on chomping on grass and pretended he didn't notice.  I wonder if Elroy's dog macho-ness was slighted. . .Perhaps Elroy should of been forewarned on a walk when he spotted a big buffalo dung pile and sniffed.  Doesn't dogs sense of smell analyze poop samples?:  The size of the dung pile should of been a tip off - much bigger than a cow pie or even a doggie left over.

He also wasn't too smart in sleeping through some magnificent scenery of purple mountain majesty.  I doubt though if he would of appreciated the view of the dead presidents heads on Mt. Rushmore framed by the end of a tunnel.  The scenic drives with hairpin curves and few guardrails up and down rocky mountains afforded worth while views.  Even though Ron has a tendency to drive on the yellow line while on the outside of a sharp curve.  Many quick prayers and Holy Crap!  I was saved again.

From the above picture, I think he was still holding on even out of the truck.

Almost out of the park, seeing Sylvan Lake was almost as much a treat as finally having lunch at one of the park lodges.  We didn't tell Elroy that we had buffalo burgers for lunch.  So, when we got back home, he could sleep peacefully on MY chair.