>> 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
