Post by Riley || Jake on Oct 11, 2006 13:05:19 GMT -5
Hi, my name is Jake O'Conner.
Please, just call me Jake.
~~~
I am seventeen years old.
~~~
As my name would suggest, I am male.
~~~
I'm fairly tall in stature, standing at about 6'3" the last time I checked. He height is accented by my broad shoulders. I inherited my dad's darker looks by means of my brown eyes and hair. Actually, sometimes, my hair looks black it's so dark. When I'm not wearing my cowboy hat, which is almost never, my hair has the tousled look, almost like I had just gotten out of bed. That look isn't helped by the fact that Riley, my twin sister, likes to muss it up at every opportunity.
My skin is fairly tanned from years of working in the sun. Even though I'm only seventeen, my dad says I have the weather beaten face of a full grown man. I guess that's a compliment to a rancher.
Riley has told me that my face was made to smile. I guess that's true, since I almost always seem to have a smile on my face. Nothing makes me laugh harder than when Ry complains that I need to shave. I tried the beard thing.... it just looks awful. But, I'm usually in a hurry and sometimes don't have time to shave every morning.
My torso is long and lean from hard hours spent in th saddle. The long hours riding have also sculpted my legs into strong appendages. Not that I'm trying to brag or anything, but I think I look pretty good. But, after years of lugging equipment, hauling hay and dragging obstinate calves around the ranch, I'd be more than a little disappointed if I hadn't put on some solid muscle.
~~~
Horses are my life, the rest is just details. And I've always been that way. Except for family, I put nothing ahead of horses. I don't remember my mom, since she died when Riley and I were so young, but my dad says I'm more like her than I would ever know. When i was younger, I used to think that he was calling me a girl, but now I know that it was his way of telling me that I had an open mind and heart and that I was full of warmth and love.
Dad raised Riley and me singlehandedly, even homeschooling us until last year. So, I grew very protective of Ry, even though she's my age and just as tough. She might look like Mom, but she acts tough, like Dad. But, she's still a teenage girl, emotionally unstable, if you ask me. She and I are very close, though I do most of the talking. She and Dad only speak if they feel that they have something important to say. So, I usually just kind of blab on to fill the silence. Neither of them seem to mind.
~~~
Born and raised on a huge ranch in rural Alberta, Canada. Chores were gargantuan, which is why Riley and I were home schooled up until last year. Almost 1500 head of cattle, 500 sheep and about 50 horses. Chores piled up quickly, leaving me, Riley and Dad scrambling to keep up.
Life was pretty routine until last year. Dad downsized the ranch a bit and hired more help to give me and Riley a chance to go to public school. We had been pretty up-to-date in classes, so we fit in academically. Having a trusting nature, I made friends easily, but Riley was shunted from group to group, an outcast due to her extremely rural upbringing. Finally, I just had her hang out with me and my friends. Since Riley and I were best friends as well as siblings, that went well.
I had been saving up money for a horse of my own for some time. When I had saved enough, Dad took me to an auction, and I bought myself a gorgeous American Paint mare named California Dreams. She started getting bigger over the next few weeks, but I didn't think much of it. I didn't have much time to ride her at first. So, I just cut back her feed a little bit.
I got concerned when she still kept gaining weight, so I called Dr. Weisz, the local vet. Was I ever shocked to learn that Dream was in foal! Turns out she had been bred, but her owners thought it didn't take.
Dream foaled a gorgeous bay tobiano filly. I called her Californication, after one of my favourite songs. Cali was two years old when a virus swept through the ranch, killing most of the stock. To my dismay, Dream was one of the ones we lost.
Forced to sell the remaining stock and the ranch itself, we kept only three horses. Riley's rescued Mustang stallion, Dad's cow-smart Quarter Horse gelding, and my own filly, Cali. Shortly after, we moved here and Dad found a local job. He knew this school was the best around, so he sent Riley and me here.
~~~
"I'm sorry, Jake. There's nothing more I can do for her," the vet said, his voice, like his eyes, was weary. "The kindest thing to do is to keep her from suffering anymore."
Tears choked the teen, not allowing him to speak. Lovingly, he wrapped his strong, tanned arms around the black overo mare's neck. He closed his eyes as he gently cradled her head in his lap. He just couldn't bear to see the distress mingled with love and trust in her dark eyes. Struggling to hold back the sobs that threatened to break his composure, he nodded wordlessly.
A muffled sob broke from the fair-haired young woman standing outside the stall. Riley turned away, running to the house in a daze. Their whole world was falling apart and they could only sit by and watch it crumble. Ian O'Conner nodded to the vet. Now was as good a time as any. The mare shouldn't suffer anymore.
"You're doing the right thing, son," Ian said, praying his voice wouldn't give away his own emotions. Jake was going through enough as it was.
The vet gave Jake a sympathetic look as he readied the injection. After softly reassuring the mare; he knelt by her shoulder, one hand resting against her ribcage. She was in too much pain to even notice as the needle sank deep into her skin. All she knew was that the boy she loved was there, so everything would be alright. With a soft sigh, Dream closed her eyes. She was gone.
Ian opened the stall door and then escorted Dr. Weisz back out to his truck. He thanked the vet for his help and support during the rough times they had fallen into, and then went back to check on his son.
Jake was still holding the mare he had loved with all his heart. Tears streamed down his weather-lined face. A face that had remained unflinching as he himself had been forced to put an injured horse out of it's misery with a bolt pistol. Who ever had coined the phrase 'Cowboys don't cry.', had clearly never seen a cowboy lose something near and dear to his heart. Cowboys do cry.... sometimes harder than the rest of us....
Please, just call me Jake.
~~~
I am seventeen years old.
~~~
As my name would suggest, I am male.
~~~
I'm fairly tall in stature, standing at about 6'3" the last time I checked. He height is accented by my broad shoulders. I inherited my dad's darker looks by means of my brown eyes and hair. Actually, sometimes, my hair looks black it's so dark. When I'm not wearing my cowboy hat, which is almost never, my hair has the tousled look, almost like I had just gotten out of bed. That look isn't helped by the fact that Riley, my twin sister, likes to muss it up at every opportunity.
My skin is fairly tanned from years of working in the sun. Even though I'm only seventeen, my dad says I have the weather beaten face of a full grown man. I guess that's a compliment to a rancher.
Riley has told me that my face was made to smile. I guess that's true, since I almost always seem to have a smile on my face. Nothing makes me laugh harder than when Ry complains that I need to shave. I tried the beard thing.... it just looks awful. But, I'm usually in a hurry and sometimes don't have time to shave every morning.
My torso is long and lean from hard hours spent in th saddle. The long hours riding have also sculpted my legs into strong appendages. Not that I'm trying to brag or anything, but I think I look pretty good. But, after years of lugging equipment, hauling hay and dragging obstinate calves around the ranch, I'd be more than a little disappointed if I hadn't put on some solid muscle.
~~~
Horses are my life, the rest is just details. And I've always been that way. Except for family, I put nothing ahead of horses. I don't remember my mom, since she died when Riley and I were so young, but my dad says I'm more like her than I would ever know. When i was younger, I used to think that he was calling me a girl, but now I know that it was his way of telling me that I had an open mind and heart and that I was full of warmth and love.
Dad raised Riley and me singlehandedly, even homeschooling us until last year. So, I grew very protective of Ry, even though she's my age and just as tough. She might look like Mom, but she acts tough, like Dad. But, she's still a teenage girl, emotionally unstable, if you ask me. She and I are very close, though I do most of the talking. She and Dad only speak if they feel that they have something important to say. So, I usually just kind of blab on to fill the silence. Neither of them seem to mind.
~~~
Born and raised on a huge ranch in rural Alberta, Canada. Chores were gargantuan, which is why Riley and I were home schooled up until last year. Almost 1500 head of cattle, 500 sheep and about 50 horses. Chores piled up quickly, leaving me, Riley and Dad scrambling to keep up.
Life was pretty routine until last year. Dad downsized the ranch a bit and hired more help to give me and Riley a chance to go to public school. We had been pretty up-to-date in classes, so we fit in academically. Having a trusting nature, I made friends easily, but Riley was shunted from group to group, an outcast due to her extremely rural upbringing. Finally, I just had her hang out with me and my friends. Since Riley and I were best friends as well as siblings, that went well.
I had been saving up money for a horse of my own for some time. When I had saved enough, Dad took me to an auction, and I bought myself a gorgeous American Paint mare named California Dreams. She started getting bigger over the next few weeks, but I didn't think much of it. I didn't have much time to ride her at first. So, I just cut back her feed a little bit.
I got concerned when she still kept gaining weight, so I called Dr. Weisz, the local vet. Was I ever shocked to learn that Dream was in foal! Turns out she had been bred, but her owners thought it didn't take.
Dream foaled a gorgeous bay tobiano filly. I called her Californication, after one of my favourite songs. Cali was two years old when a virus swept through the ranch, killing most of the stock. To my dismay, Dream was one of the ones we lost.
Forced to sell the remaining stock and the ranch itself, we kept only three horses. Riley's rescued Mustang stallion, Dad's cow-smart Quarter Horse gelding, and my own filly, Cali. Shortly after, we moved here and Dad found a local job. He knew this school was the best around, so he sent Riley and me here.
~~~
"I'm sorry, Jake. There's nothing more I can do for her," the vet said, his voice, like his eyes, was weary. "The kindest thing to do is to keep her from suffering anymore."
Tears choked the teen, not allowing him to speak. Lovingly, he wrapped his strong, tanned arms around the black overo mare's neck. He closed his eyes as he gently cradled her head in his lap. He just couldn't bear to see the distress mingled with love and trust in her dark eyes. Struggling to hold back the sobs that threatened to break his composure, he nodded wordlessly.
A muffled sob broke from the fair-haired young woman standing outside the stall. Riley turned away, running to the house in a daze. Their whole world was falling apart and they could only sit by and watch it crumble. Ian O'Conner nodded to the vet. Now was as good a time as any. The mare shouldn't suffer anymore.
"You're doing the right thing, son," Ian said, praying his voice wouldn't give away his own emotions. Jake was going through enough as it was.
The vet gave Jake a sympathetic look as he readied the injection. After softly reassuring the mare; he knelt by her shoulder, one hand resting against her ribcage. She was in too much pain to even notice as the needle sank deep into her skin. All she knew was that the boy she loved was there, so everything would be alright. With a soft sigh, Dream closed her eyes. She was gone.
Ian opened the stall door and then escorted Dr. Weisz back out to his truck. He thanked the vet for his help and support during the rough times they had fallen into, and then went back to check on his son.
Jake was still holding the mare he had loved with all his heart. Tears streamed down his weather-lined face. A face that had remained unflinching as he himself had been forced to put an injured horse out of it's misery with a bolt pistol. Who ever had coined the phrase 'Cowboys don't cry.', had clearly never seen a cowboy lose something near and dear to his heart. Cowboys do cry.... sometimes harder than the rest of us....
