Little Tom. When I was a small child, my father knowing how much I loved animals, bought me a horse. Little Tom was part quarter horse, part Arabian, chestnut with a white star. He loved to run, and run he did. In the few gymkana’s I entered in my childhood, Little Tom never lost. It was like be a passenger on a great athlete. Although Tom and I did trail rides in the canyons in Utah, I spent more time with him out of saddle. In fact, when we did ride together, it usually was saddleless. He was my spirit and as I look back, one of my best friends. When I cleaned his corral, he would often sneak behind me and give me nudge and would lay his muzzle on my shoulder. When he really wanted attention, he would lower his head till he was eye level with me, and just look at me with his liquid eyes. He would chase my dog around the corral, kicking up dust, leaving me to have to brush him down again and again (which he loved). A big hearted creature who seemed to have no fear (perhaps because there was no one he couldn’t out run.). There’s a reason the greatest Lakota warrior was a Crazy Horse.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 05:07:58 +0000
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