Cowboy Wisdom: The Most Dangerous Horse in the World

 

Years ago I wrote about my pard Roger Miller and the time Canadian whiskey met a certain paint mare. Roger knew I hadn’t been around horses much for a long stretch, so he appointed himself mentor. At first his steady stream of advice rankled. I’d grown up with horses; I just needed time to settle back into the rhythm. Then it dawned on me: I was lucky. A real working cowboy was handing me the kind of hard-earned knowledge you can’t buy.

Roger had spent his early twenties on the Vail and Vickers Ranch—Cowboy Island—on Santa Rosa Island off Santa Barbara. He carried fond memories of those years and the old California vaqueros who’d shown him the ropes. Their lessons stuck.

One of the first practical ones arrived right after we’d strung barbed wire around the new pasture. Roger explained that manure wasn’t a problem if you broke up the clumps and spread them. A good kick or two from a size-11 cowboy boot did the job just fine. I knew exactly whose boots would be doing the kicking. I took to the chore with all the grace and aplomb a man can muster while dodging horse apples.

Around that same time the paint mare was starting to accept me, and I was probably giving her a little too much attention. Out of the blue Roger said, “The most dangerous horse in the world is someone’s pet.

”It sounded like throwaway wisdom. I filed it away anyway.

Years later the circle closed. I had Cash, my “bomb-proof” gelding, and Kasidy, my alpha mare. I understood completely why Cash feared her. I never wanted to feel the full force of one of her kicks either. I learned to keep one eye on the mare and give the geldings plenty of get-away room.

But daily life with horses makes you casual. You drop your guard when you’re busy. One hot afternoon I was picking manure in the loafing shed. Cash was trying to sidle into the shade beside Kasidy. Suddenly he bolted. In less than a tenth of a second his front hoof pinned my shoe to the ground, then he slammed me into the fence as he thundered past.

From somewhere above, Roger’s voice floated down: The most dangerous horse in the world is someone’s pet.

I walked away with bruises and no broken bones. The bigger problem is that Cash still believes if he runs to me I’ll protect him. He’s bumped into me more than once while escaping the mare. I just hope the most dangerous horse in the world doesn’t eventually finish the job.

Could it be my old mentor is now my guardian angel? Quien sabe.

Afterword

Roger crossed the Great Divide in the fall of 1998. That same year Cowboy Island died too—the last cows shipped to the mainland, the cowboys let go. The National Park Service took over. Some lessons, though, refuse to stay buried.

Thank you Grok xAI for your wisdom and fixin' my spellin' etc. -- Drifting Cowboy

Kasidy May and Me -- A Poem of Cowboy Mounted Shooting

 

Kasidy May and Me

A Poem of Cowboy Mounted Shooting

In the nineteen-fifties, when I was still a small boy,

My heroes rode tall across the silver screen’s joy—

Hopalong Cassidy with his black hat and grit,

Gene Autry’s clear voice and Roy Rogers’ quick wit.

They taught me that courage and honor could ride

Through dust and through danger, with justice as guide.

But time has a way of turning the page,

And at sixty-five I stood at a different stage.

The boy in me stirred when I searched for a mount,

Not some gentle trail horse of ordinary account,

But a partner with fire, with heart, and with pride—

A clever grey mare who would not be denied.

Her name is Kasidy May, four years in her prime,

A beauty of silver with markings of time.

She’s no living toy for a casual hand;

She’s power and grace, answering every demand.

With “power steering” soft and “overdrive” strong,

She slides to a stop as if hearing a song.

Together we found a new sport to pursue,

Cowboy Mounted Shooting—bold, fast, and true.

We race through the pattern of barrels and poles,

While single-action .45s speak from our souls.

Blank cartridges flash and the balloons burst bright,

As Kasidy May thunders with all of her might.

Around the first barrel she glides like the wind,

Her body collected, her balance refined.

I lift the revolver, the hammer falls clean,

A bloom of white smoke where the target has been.

Another balloon, then another in turn,

While her flying lead changes are smooth and well-earned.

A light tap of spur and a rein on her neck

Bring collection and focus, without any check

Of the spirit that carries us both through the course.

A soft signal slows her; she answers with force

When I ask for more speed on the final long run—

Two partners as one underneath the same sun.

She grows a bit wiser with each ride we share,

Learning the patterns, the timing, the care.

The arena grows quiet, the bleachers look on,

As gunsmoke and hoofbeats write stories of dawn.

After the rundown we ease to a walk,

And share a deep breath that needs no more talk.

In this dusty arena the years fall away;

The boy who once watched is the man who can play.

No longer a dream on a flickering screen,

But living and breathing in leather and sheen.

Kasidy May carries the heart of that lad

Who once cheered the heroes in black-and-white glad.

So here at this age I still ride for the thrill—

The pop of the balloon, the rush of the skill,

The bond with a mare who is honest and keen,

The proof that adventure need never grow lean.

While playing the cowboy, old age is set free,

And Kasidy May gallops the best part of me.

© Jerry England 2008

Kasidy May crossed the Great Divide in 2025, and that leaves a big empty space where a fine grey mare once stood. Everything I wrote about her—the power steering, the sliding stops, the flying lead changes, the way she made an old cowboy feel young again—she was clearly one of the special ones. Partners like that don’t come along often, and they leave hoofprints on the heart that never quite fade. She carried me through the patterns, the gunsmoke, and the joy of the sport. That kind of partnership lives on in the stories, the poems, and the quiet moments when I still feel her beneath me. 

Rest easy, Kasidy May.
You were a good one.

(expanded and refined just for fun... a poem I started in my youth (age 65) back in 2008. Grok helped me finish it today, 2026)

The Skipper of Point Prim: Findlay MacDonald and the Selkirk Settlers

 

Every family tree has its quiet giants—men and women whose grit laid the groundwork for everything that came after. On our MacDonald branch, Findlay MacDonald (1750–1844) stands as a towering figure who bridged two worlds, taking the maritime heritage of the Scottish Western Isles and turning it into a thriving coastal life on the red shores of Prince Edward Island.

From the Ashes of the 78th Highlanders

Born in 1750 in Inverness-shire, Findlay came into the world during one of the darkest chapters in Highland history. His father, Captain Donald MacDonald, was a proud officer in Fraser’s Highlanders (78th Regiment of Foot)—a regiment of former Jacobites who fought for the Crown in the Seven Years' War. When Captain Donald fell in North America in 1757, young Findlay was raised in an era when the ancient Gaelic clan system was being dismantled by high rents and landlord clearances.

Rather than bending to circumstance, Findlay turned to the water. Learning the tides and winds of the western firths, he became a skilled coastal boatman, buying his own vessel to transport goods, timber, and cattle along the rugged Scottish coast.

                   THE MACDONALD-TO-MCNEIL LINE

                   

                 Capt. Donald MacDonald (1720–1757)

                   [Fraser's Highlanders, 78th Foot]

                                │

                    FINDLAY MACDONALD (1750–1844)

                  [The Boatman of Point Prim, PEI]

                                │

                    Mary MacDonald (1769–1845)

                  [m. Donald Bell in Argyll, Scot.]

                                │

                      Mary Bell (1791–1878)

               [m. Duncan McNeill; Pioneer in Bruce, ON]

                                │

                     Duncan McNeill 1821–1882

                                │

                   Allan McNeil (1865–1927)

                                │

                 Annie Margaret McNeil (1892–1964)

                     [Paternal Grandmother]

Sailing on the Dykes (1803)

By 1803, the urge for permanent independence led Findlay, his wife Mary "Jessie" MacKinnon, and their children to join Thomas Douglas, the 5th Earl of Selkirk, in his grand vision to settle displaced Highlanders in British North America.

In August 1803, the family boarded the Dykes—the second of Lord Selkirk’s three famed ships—bound for St. John's Island (Prince Edward Island). While many emigrants were strictly farmers bewildered by the Atlantic crossing, Findlay was right at home among the ropes and timber.

When the Dykes dropped anchor off the Orwell Bay peninsula, the settlers looked out at a dense wilderness of pine, spruce, and striking red soil. They named their new home Point Prim.

The Skipper of Orwell Bay

Land was surveyed, trees were felled, and homesteads were built, but the early Selkirk colony faced a critical problem: there were no roads through the thick forest to Charlottetown or Belfast.

This is where Findlay’s expertise came into its own.

Drawings upon his years as a Scottish boatman, Findlay acquired and fitted out a sturdy coastal boat—a heavy, timber-rigged trading vessel capable of navigating the shallow, tide-ripped waters around Point Prim. For years, "Findlay the Boatman" served as a vital lifeline for the peninsula, hauling:

• Timber and Shingles cleared from the pioneer farms.
• Barrels of Salted Fish & Produce bound for markets in Charlottetown.
• Essential Supplies, Tools, and Mail brought back to the isolated families of Point Prim.

While others cleared the forest with axes, Findlay worked the oars and sails, keeping the colony connected to the broader world.

A Century of Change

Findlay lived at Point Prim for over forty years, passing away around 1844 at the age of 94. During his nearly century-long life, he saw Point Prim transform from a quiet landing site into a prosperous agricultural and fishing community—crowned in 1845 by the construction of the iconic, round brick Point Prim Lighthouse, built on the very headland where he had landed decades earlier.

Through his daughter Mary MacDonald, his granddaughter Mary Bell, and down through the McNeils of Bruce County, Ontario, Findlay’s lineage carried that same resilient, water-faring spirit all the way into our modern family history.

Biographical Notes on Findlay MacDonald (1750–1844) & His Descendants

1. Findlay MacDonald (1750–1844) — 5th Great-Grandfather

• Highland Origins & Military Heritage: Born in Inverness-shire, Findlay was the son of Captain Donald MacDonald, a officer in Fraser’s Highlanders (78th Foot) who died in North America in 1757, and Flora MacCuish. Orphaned of his father at a young age, Findlay was raised in the shadow of the post-Culloden Highland Clearances.
• The Coastal Trader & Boat Owner: According to local Lord Selkirk settlement traditions and Maritime histories, Findlay was not merely a subsistence farmer; he was a skilled mariner. In Scotland, he operated coastal craft along the western firths and lochs, carrying livestock and trade goods.
• The Dykes Voyage (1803): In August 1803, Findlay, his wife Mary "Jessie" MacKinnon, and their family boarded the Dykes—the second of Lord Selkirk’s famous three ships carrying Highland emigrants to St. John's Island (Prince Edward Island).
• Maritime Pioneer at Point Prim: Settling at Point Prim along Orwell Bay, Findlay put his nautical experience to work. He built and operated a small coastal vessel (often referred to in island lore as a schooner or heavy trading boat). He hauled timber, agricultural produce, and salt fish between Point Prim, Belfast, and Charlottetown, serving as an indispensable lifeline for the early Selkirk colony long before roads connected the peninsula.
• Patriarchal Longevity: Findlay lived to the extraordinary age of 94, dying around 1844. His long life spanned the fall of the Clan system, the Napoleonic Wars, the War of 1812, and PEI’s growth into a thriving maritime province.

2. Mary MacDonald (c. 1769–1845) — 4th Great-Grandmother

• The Scottish Bridge: Born in Scotland to Findlay and Jessie, Mary spent her early life in Argyll (Kilcalmonell and Kilberry).
• Marriage to Donald Bell: She married Donald Bell (1764–1791). Following Donald's early death, Mary maintained the family's ties between the Scottish mainland and the emigrating branches of the family, passing down the MacDonald and Bell heritage to her daughter, Mary Bell.

3. Mary Bell (1791–1878) — 3rd Great-Grandmother

• Highland Roots to Canadian Frontier: Born in Kilcalmonell and Kilberry, Argyll, Mary married Duncan McNeill (1786–1841).
• The Migration to Bruce County, Ontario: After Duncan’s death, Mary joined the great westward migration of Scottish families from Argyll and the Maritimes into the newly opened Huron District of Ontario. She settled in Paisley, Elderslie Township, Bruce County, where she lived to age 86, surrounded by children and grandchildren who cleared the dense Ontario timberlands.

Thank you Gemini SI for your wisdom and research assistance. -- Drifting Cowboy

From the Isle of Colonsay to the Red Soil of PEI: The Voyageur Bloodline of the Munns

 

Every branch of our family tree seems to find its way to water and wilderness. Long before our ancestors rode the trails of Southern California or paddled the birchbark routes of New France, our Scottish forebears were navigating the tide-ripped channels of the Inner Hebrides and building new lives along the windswept shores of Prince Edward Island.

Through my paternal grandmother, Annie Margaret McNeil (1892–1964), a newly traced DNA line leads directly back to the Isle of Colonsay in Argyll, Scotland—and to four generations of the Munn family who bridged the Old World and the New.

The Redcoats and the Hebridean Isle

The story begins with my 6th great-grandfather, John Munn (c. 1720–c. 1790s). Born on the small, lonely island of Colonsay off the western coast of Scotland, John grew up in a traditional Gaelic-speaking clan culture.

Like many young Highlanders of his day, John answered the call to arms, serving in historic British units like the 21st Regiment of Foot (Royal North British Fusiliers) and the 3rd Foot Guards. Royal Hospital Chelsea records show him discharged on a veteran's pension in the 1760s after decades of military duty that spanned European battles and service in North America during the French and Indian War.

Returning home to Colonsay with his wife Mary Livingston, John raised his son Duncan Munn (1746–1821) in an era of dramatic change. The ancient Highland way of life was collapsing under heavy rents and landlord consolidation. Looking across the Atlantic, the Munns saw a chance for true independence: land ownership in British North America.

The Voyage of the Spencer (1806)

In September 1806, Duncan’s son, my 4th great-grandfather Angus Munn (1774–1837), took a leap of faith that altered our family's history forever.

Angus, along with his young wife Margaret "Peggy" McNeill, cradled their six-month-old infant daughter, Catherine Munn (1806–1884), as they boarded the emigrant ship Spencer in Argyll. Bounded for St. John’s Island (now Prince Edward Island), the ship was packed with Gaelic-speaking Hebridean families seeking escape from the Highlands.

                  THE COLONSAY-TO-PEI MUNN LINE

                  

                      John Munn (c. 1720) 

                [Colonsay, Scotland to PEI]

                                │

                     Duncan Munn (1746–1821)

                  [Pioneer at Wood Islands, PEI]

                                │

                      Angus Munn (1774–1837)

                 [Arrived on the 'Spencer' 1806]

                                │

                    Catherine Munn (1806–1884)

               [M. Angus McDonald; Moved to Bruce, ON]

                                │

                    Margaret McDonald (1832–1881)

                                │

                    Allan McNeil (1865–1927)

                                │

                  Annie Margaret McNeil (1892–1964)

                     [Paternal Grandmother]

After weeks at sea, the Spencer dropped anchor along the southern coast of PEI at Wood Islands. There, amidst the red cliffs and dense evergreen stands, the Munns swung axes, cleared farms, and built a close-knit Gaelic community. Angus Munn lived out his days as a leader in Wood Islands, where his headstone still stands in the historic Wood Island Pioneer Cemetery.

Westward to the Great Lakes

That baby carried aboard the Spencer—my 3rd great-grandmother Catherine Munn—grew up on the red soil of Prince Edward Island, marrying Angus McDonald in 1831.

By the mid-19th century, as arable land on PEI grew scarce, the pioneer spirit struck the family once more. Catherine and Angus packed up their belongings and joined the great Maritime migration inland to Ontario, carving out a new farm in Kincardine, Bruce County, along the eastern shore of Lake Huron.

Their lineage flowed down through their daughter Margaret McDonald, to her son Allan McNeil, and ultimately to my grandmother Annie Margaret McNeil.

The Thread of History

Looking at this line, it is easy to see where our family's restless frontier spirit originated. From the granite shores of Colonsay to the red beaches of Prince Edward Island, and onward to the timberlands of Ontario and the dusty trails of the American West, each generation took to the water or the road in search of a better life.

Standing on the shoulders of soldier-pensioners like John Munn and courageous mothers like Margaret McNeill on the Spencer, we inherit a legacy of resilience forged in the fires of the Scottish Highlands and built on the wilderness frontiers of North America.

Biographical Notes on Our Munn Ancestors

1. John Munn (c. 1720–c. 1790s) — 6th Great-Grandfather

• Origins in the Hebrides: Born on the island of Colonsay in Argyll, Scotland, John lived during a turbulent century for the Scottish Highlands and Islands. Colonsay was heavily Gaelic-speaking, dominated by the Clan Macfie and later Clan Campbell.
• Military Service (Highland Regiments): The Chelsea Pensioner records strongly indicate veteran status in the British military:
• 21st Regiment of Foot (Royal North British Fusiliers): Pensioned in 1763, right at the conclusion of the Seven Years' War (French and Indian War), during which the 21st served extensively in European and North American theaters.
• 3rd Foot Guards (Scots Guards): Admitted to pension in April 1766 at age 46 after decades of grueling campaign service across Europe.
• The Emigration Pioneer: After receiving his military pension, John returned to Argyll before joining the initial waves of Scottish Highland clearance and economic emigrations to St. John’s Island (renamed Prince Edward Island in 1799), settling near Wood Islands along the island's southern shore.

2. Duncan Munn (1746–1821) — 5th Great-Grandfather

• Life in Argyll: Born on Colonsay to John Munn and Mary Livingston, Duncan married Flora Brown in Scotland. Like many Hebridean islanders of the late 18th century, Duncan faced skyrocketing rents, overpopulation, and the decline of traditional kelp harvesting and cattle trade under landlord consolidation.
• Pioneer Settler at Wood Islands: Duncan brought his young family across the Atlantic during the late 1790s/1806 period, obtaining land along the rugged coastline of Wood Islands, PEI. He helped establish one of the earliest Gaelic-speaking farming and fishing communities on the island, clearing dense maritime forest to establish homesteads.

3. Angus Munn (c. 1774–1837) — 4th Great-Grandfather

• The Passage on the Spencer (1806): Born on Colonsay, Angus married Margaret "Peggy" McNeill. In September 1806, Angus, Peggy, and their infant daughter Catherine boarded the emigrant ship Spencer, sailing from Argyll to Prince Edward Island. The voyage carried dozens of Hebridean families fleeing economic hardship for the promise of land ownership in PEI.
• Leader in the Pioneer Cemetery: Angus settled at Wood Islands, serving as a pillar of the Scottish pioneer community. His burial on July 27, 1837, at the Wood Island Pioneer Cemetery marks one of the earliest preserved Gaelic grave sites in southern PEI.

4. Catherine Munn (1806–1884) — 3rd Great-Grandmother

• An Infant of the Spencer: Born on Colonsay in February 1806, Catherine was only six months old when her parents carried her aboard the Spencer across the North Atlantic.
• Growth of the Maritime Frontier: She grew up in the Gaelic enclave of Wood Islands, marrying Angus McDonald (1810–1887).
• The Westward Trek to Ontario: In the 1850s, after decades on Prince Edward Island, Catherine and Angus joined the internal migration of Scottish Maritime families moving west to clear the timberlands of Bruce County, Ontario. Settling in Kincardine along Lake Huron, Catherine lived to age 78, embodying three generations of Scottish pioneer displacement—from the Inner Hebrides to the Maritimes, and finally to the Great Lakes frontier.

Thank you Gemini AI for your wisdom and research assistance. -- Drifting Cowboy