My great-great grandfather had a white stallion, a Paso Fino (of course) that he rode everywhere. The horse's real name has been forgotten in the family history: everyone remembers him as "Bizcocho."
"Bizcocho" means "Cake."
|Not Bizcocho, obviously (photo from here) but just so you get an idea of the regalness of this horse.|
|Abuelito de Pelo Blanco, in his heyday :)|
Despite the silly name, he was a highly trained, sensitive animal that only the more skilled horsemen of the family could ride with ease.
I told you guys about Brisa in my previous Bloodline post. Brisa was my mother's horse, and he was still in training under saddle when my grandfather took my mom to visit Abuelito de Pelo Blanco. My grandfather bragged about my mother's outstanding riding skills with her colt at home. And so Abuelito de Pelo Blanco had Bizcocho tacked up.
My mom, who was still in her late teens, looked at her father and great-grandfather in disbelief but still climbed aboard the great white stallion that was presented for her to ride and demonstrate.
They had a lovely ride during which my mother put Bizcocho through his many gaits, with just the lightest touch of the leg or the reins. Abuelito de Pelo Blanco was quite impressed. My mom was the first woman in the family to have a gift with horses, and here she proved it.
Until it came time to stop. My mother brought Bizcocho to a halt with the gentlest pressure...but she held it for a fraction of a second too soon. The white stallion immediately started backing up, which took my mom by surprise, which in turn caused her to reflexively squeeze her hands...and so Bizcocho continued on...backwards. My grandfather finally had to step in and grab him by the reins in order to stop him. My mom's face was beet red from embarrassment as she leaped off of her great-grandfather's horse and took off running to hide in the barns for a while. She never did hear what my grandfather and his grandfather said afterwards, and she did not ask.
Bizcocho was quite the horse, but other people could ride him.
Brisa was also quite the horse, but he could only be ridden by my mother, a fact that my grandfather always happened to mention in his stories.
And he always said it with the utmost pride.
|That's my mom on the bottom left. :) And her siblings: my two aunts and my uncle standing behind them.|