Not far from our new ranch is, ‘The Monolith’. Quite a structure. Across the train tracks are rolling meadows of green grass. Lots of cows and horses graze. Leo wondered why no one rode the horses. I say, “Because they’re out to pasture, sort of retired!” He thought it was a waste of money. I told him my Napoleon story…After Waterloo, the General abandoned his army. Even to this day, frozen remnants are found in mass graves, piled where they fell, trying to escape the Russians. Look it up. Anyhow, all the horses and mules were also abandoned by the retreating army. No feed. No water in the freezing wind. On the other hand, not so the English horses. The English are quite different then any other people when it comes to animals. A friend of mine once moved to a town near London to work for a foreign phone company. He had a boxer with cropped ears. When he went to walk it, he was spit on for mutilating it…back to the horses…With so many abandoned animals, a Belgiun man started buying them up all over Europe for dog food. When he ran out, he took a ship to the British Isles after hearing about all their pastured war horses on vast estates. In Scotland, at one such place, he informs an old one legged caretaker that, “I’ll take all these worthless beasts off your hands for a fair price!” The old cavalryman calls for another caretaker named Mc Laughlin, “Hey, be so kind as to get you bugle!” At this, Mc Laughlin smiled and nodded while tapping out his pipe. Now at the edge of a broad lawn stretching for hundreds of acres, he looked out upon dottings of horses at graze, as far as you could see. He looked at his companion. The old one legged caretaker said quietly, “Blow assembly!” At the sound of the call, every horse perked its ears, then, trotted to a flat meadow, tossing their heads as they formed a long line. Not a man near them…The old caretaker then at almost a whisper, “Call the advance!” At the sound of the bugle, every horse snapped to attention and came forward. All as one. Hundreds stepped as if of one mind. “Now sweep ’em left”, the bugle brought them left. “Now, sweep them right!” As they came right, just in front of the old man, he said a louder, “Give ’em the charge lad!! At the sound of the charge, every horse leaped as if hit by lightening. The sound of their hoofs shook the very ground. “Now sound recall!” As the horses slowed, then broke up, the old one legged man spat tobacco on the Belgians shirt, then said, “Worthless? Get your ass off my land!”