
I’ve owned horses most of my life, from the time I was a preteen until a few years ago (we won’t mention how many decades there are in between). The very first horse I called my own was a bay gelding named Mac. That was it. Just Mac. He wasn’t particularly beautiful, but he was gentle and well-behaved. By the time I turned fourteen, I was ready for a more advanced horse, and we acquired Torno – short for Tornado. Now, he was a beauty. A striking black, high-stepping Saddlebred who sailed over fences. In college, I switched from English riding to Western and Baldy was my horse of choice. She was pie-bald mare with an entirely white face and pale blue eyes.

In all three cases, my horse came with an established name, and it seemed to fit them and their characteristics. Not that I would have changed it. As a youngster, I once read in book that changing a horse’s name was bad luck, and I believed it. Over the years, my husband and I came to own many dozens of horses and mules—some of them with silly or just plain awful names. Still, I wouldn’t change them. Instead, I’d come up with a tolerable, if not cute, nickname. A few of the more memorable ones were a pony named Tinkle and an older white swayback called Dumpy. I couldn’t bring myself to call them by those terrible monikers, so I dubbed them Tinker Bell and Dimples. I figured the nicknames were close enough to not rain any bad luck down on us.


I was also tasked with the job of naming the many babies we had and any nameless horse or mule that came to us. One of my favorites was a baby mule that we had after several years of trying and much money invested. The moment I saw him at a few hours old, I pronounced him Dollar, which made perfect sense. Eighteen months later, his full sister Penny was born. I mean, seriously, what else could I call her? A dun mare we fostered produced a handsome male foal that looked just like her, so I called him Son of a Dun, Sonny for short.
Not all the names I picked were humorous, although I admit I often leaned that way. Neither were all the names clever and original. We had our share of classics like Lady and Fancy and Patches. I named my favorite horse of all time Tiger because he was born in the year of the tiger. What mattered most is that somehow the names all came to fit the horse or mule.

Oh, and this doesn’t take into account all the names of fictional horses and bulls and even dogs that I had to come up with for books. I once had a fierce bucking bull called Orange Crush and most recently a diminutive mule I gave the name of Short Stack.
Just for fun, tell me, what would you name this silly fellow? Who knows? I just might use him and your suggestion in a future book ?

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Howdy, y’all! Heather Blanton here. I’ve got a new box set out this week from my Burning Dress Ranch series. The Burning Dress is a ranch run by women for women. Some would think that’s a tall tale. A woman can’t run a ranch.
Her father was a horse trader. She picked up the skill from him and ran with it. She had an uncanny eye for horse flesh, a strong work ethic, a quick mind, and–probably most importantly–the respect of her ranch hands. Kittie is credited with negotiating the largest horse trade in US history. In one deal, she sold 8000 horses to England for use in the Boer War. She was also a darling of the press because of her business acumen and feminine ways.
In 1873, Margaret Borland owned a good-sized spread in Texas, but cattle in Texas weren’t worth much. About $8 a head. Up the road in Kansas, though, beef was bringing $23 a head! Margaret, not being a dummy, defied convention and organized her own cattle drive. What’s more, she also served as the trail boss! But she arrived at this situation more out of necessity than desire.
Ellen’s land and eventually, his greed led to her death. Ellen and Jim were lynched by Bothwell in July of 1889. To protect the wealthy cattlemen involved in the murders, the press dubbed Ellen “Cattle Kate” and declared her a cattle thief and prostitute.
Women like these inspired Burning Dress Ranch. Everything the women do in my stories, from wrangling cattle to shoeing horses to bending iron on an anvil is real, true history. Just like my historical heroes, my fictional heroines come away with a new vocation, a bright future, and their happily ever after!
Netflix started the shooting for Ransom Canyon in February, and I can’t help feeling it’s come full circle. When I first thought of writing this series, I had only planned on doing six books about ranches around a small canyon. Ransom Canyon is a few miles from Lubbock, Texas, and I used to drive around there when I was in college at Texas Tech. I always thought it was a beautiful place, and I wanted to write a story about ranch life around there.


Blake, and I’ve been invited to be a guest author on the blog today.












Well, if you’ve been reading my blogs here for any length of time, you know already that this took me down a strange rabbit hole. Out of curiosity, and because I’m a romance writer, I decided to see if there were any brands with hearts. I mean, if I had a ranch, I’d want a heart in my name. I found a couple cute ones and some okay ones and one I…ew. You’ll have to form your own opinion.












