>> http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-This-your-horse-yourself/dp/0979144604
>>
>   Did you think you would like this book?

No, that's why I said "this is a different book..."  altho I probably should
have highlighted "different".

Yes, he is Buck's brother.

Here is an excerpt from Buck's book, Faraway Horses:

The Faraway Horses

By Buck Brannaman with William Reynolds

FOREWORD
http://www.dailylit.com/books/faraway-horses/foreword

INTRODUCTION

THE STORIES IN THIS BOOK are scenes from the private movie of my life. They
have helped me understand the big picture, and they have influenced
directions I've taken since the events happened. In many ways they have
affected the way I work with certain horses. I know they have influenced me
in the way I deal with people, but horses have always meant a certain level
of consistency in my life. They respond with all their being. All they know
is honesty.

On my way to a horsemanship clinic I was putting on in Ellensburg,
Washington, I decided to make a little detour through Coeur d'Alene, Idaho.
It's a peaceful town, and its beauty is magnetic. I can see why so many
people have come here to retire.

I sat looking out my truck window, with my horses standing quietly in my
trailer, at the old house at 3219 North Fourth Street. That's where my older
brother, Smokie, and I lived with our mom and dad for a few years in the
mid-1960s. Seeing it more than thirty years later brought back a flood of
memories.

The shed, not much more than an overhang to the back of the house, made me
think of milking cows there, and how, in the eyes of a kid just four feet
tall, that pitiful little shed seemed like a huge barn. When I saw the
basement window, I remembered struggling to drag a hose through it so I
could water our horses, cows, and pigs, and how more often than not that
hose would hang up at the hose joint a few feet short of the stock tank.

The yard was where Smokie and I learned to ride and spin a rope, little
knowing we would soon be performing on TV and at rodeos and fairs around the
country as "The Idaho Cowboys, Buckshot and Smokie, from Coeur d'Alene,
Idaho."

The number on that beat-up old mailbox stared back at me: 3219. I was
tempted to knock on the door to see who lives there, and maybe walk around a
little.

So many memories. So many times the ambulance would arrive at the house to
collect my mom because she was having a diabetic reaction. And so many times
our neighbors would call the sheriff because old man Brannaman was working
his kids over again.

But today, I'm no longer afraid, not even of the memories. In a strange,
almost melancholic way, it felt good to be here. Who would have thought that
one of those "Idaho Cowboys" would grow up and have the joy of working with
so many people and their horses, trying to help create relationships based
on trust? It's ironic. Trust was something I had in short supply as a
youngster.

Ride with me now, and I'll tell you some of what's happened along the way.
It's been kind of bumpy, but well worth the trip.

Things are so good for me now due, in large part, to my wife, Mary. It is to
her, to my family, and to the Horse that I dedicate not only this book, but
my life.

Thank you for your interest, and may your life be filled with good horses.

Buck Brannaman


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