Watch Bar McCue turns 20 today.

Rusty, or Watch Bar McCue if you want his registered name, is 20 years young today. The grand old gelding is a treasured member of our family. Rusty has been on our property longer than we have, since he actually came with the house. His previous owner didn't want to sell him, so she gave him to us. We can't imagine life without him.

Rusty is quite a character. He is an accomplished escape artist, and if he gets loose he is nearly impossible to catch. We have learned to leave him alone and wait until he decides he has had enough freedom. Then and only then will he turn himself in, in exchange for a treat, of course. Rusty has been known to drink warm apple cider out of a mug, and he is fond of homemade biscuits. The only foods he doesn't like are onions, bell peppers, and his daily joint supplement.

Occasionally we turn Rusty loose on purpose to graze around our house, and he likes to wander over to our neighbors' houses. He'll peer into their windows, hoping for a handout. When he's in the pasture, he's the boss horse. He rules the others with an iron hoof. He is pretty fair to his pasture pals, unless there is food involved.

Rusty has his own opinions about riding. He doesn't approve of giving ponyrides, nor will his majesty put up with any structured exercise. Momma, whose primary riding goal is to sit on him and follow the group, is permitted to ride. Annie, whose goal is to make Rusty fit and obedient, is not. Easygoing trail rides are permissible, but not workouts. If pressed, Rusty can display a neat and efficient buck which lands his rider in the dirt.

Now, don't think that Watch Bar McCue is a terrible beast, because he isn't. Rusty is strong-willed, but he is also very sweet. He dedicatedly watches over Jasmine when he is with her, and he loves to play with Jack. He enjoys bareback rides around our property, and he likes to be groomed by visiting children. Rusty will stand perfectly still and let kids pet, groom, and play around him (Some children once got into a water-fight while giving him a bath!).

My tale of Rusty wouldn't be complete without this last story. One day, Momma was petting him in his stall. He was resting his mouth gently on her hand, when suddenly he put his teeth on her wedding ring. She pulled her hand away, only to see that the diamond had vanished from its setting. Momma said, "Rusty!" He perked up his ears and spit out the diamond, which landed on the stall floor. Momma picked up the stone. With shaky legs, she sat down on a bench. We thank the Lord that Momma was able to get her diamond back from Rusty.

So, if you ever stop by our house, look out for our big, furry, diamond thief. He'll be the one standing at our back door looking for goodies. That is, unless he's down the road, sleeping in a neighbor's front yard.