My Palomino Horse

                                                 


When I was around six years old, I met the Palomino horse. He was high strung and spirited and dangerous, people said.
I did not realize he had been put out to pasture because he couldn't be controlled--so I adopted him as my own.

The Palomino lived in a Pecan grove two doors down from our house.

The grove was fenced and large and was a bustle of activity in the Fall when people came from miles around to make a little money gathering in the Pecan harvest.

Each day I took the Palomino horse delicious horsey things to eat like jelly sandwiches and fritos and frankfurters. He loved it. I stood at the fence and fed him through the barbed wire piece by piece.

There was one thing I noticed about my horse. He was sometimes crazy and wild. He would take off running through the grove at a trememdous speed and had a habit of bucking and kicking and stamping for no apparent reason. Didn't faze me. I was six years old and I was the only six year old I knew that had her own horse.

One Spring day I came to the grove to feed the horse with an assortment of goodies in my Easter basket. This was the day after Easter and my basket was still pretty and new with a big pink satin bow on it. Inside was  a corn muffin, a piece of lettuce, a donut and  corn on the cob.  The Horse saw me and  galloped toward the fence. When he reached the fence he did his usual stamping and raring up and twisting before he finally settled down to snack.

That day I decided I would climb into the grove and feed my horse. I was hoping that after he ate he would let me climb on his back to ride.

I climbed through the fence at the bottom, far below the dangerous barbed wire at the top of the fence. The horse seem a little skittish. He kept backing away from me, but I could tell he wanted the snacks. Finally he settled down and trembling walked up to me to take the corn muffin out of my hand.

I heard my Mothers voice far away.

I had to finish feeding the horse and riding the horse before she came and made me come home!

My Mother kept calling my name as her voice got closer and closer.

OH! I heard her gasp as she turned the corner and saw me standing inside the fence alongside my horse.

She stood very still and did not approach the fence.

"Hi Honey."

"Hi"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm feeding my horse. When I finish I am going for a ride." The horse eyed my Mother suspiciously and snorted for her to stay back.

My Mother continued to stand very still looking at me and the horse.

Then she suggested, "Why don't we go home and get him some more food?

"He has enough".

"I have some juicy red apples. They like apples more than all other foods....Her voice trailed off....

"Come to the fence and lets go and get some apples for the horse."

"Nope."

The horse, with a mouthful of glazed donut was saying "UHN UHN!" and stamping one hoof up and down at my Mothers presence.

I looked back and  saw a vein in her forehead stand out. She said evenly, sternly...."LETS GO HOME AND GET MORE FOOD FOR THE HORSE!"

I really didn't want to go. How come she couldn't get it herself?

"Can we come back right away?"

"Yes."

I walked over to the fence and held up my arms for my Mother to pick me up.

She did. Swoosh! She snatched me up so quickly that the barb wire caught my right arm opening  parallel lines of scarlet red blood. Lines that I still have.

My Mother angrily carried me home under her arm like a sack of potatoes. And thats not all. She stopped by the Weeping Willow Tree and snapped off a strong sturdy switch.
ooowww. ooooww ow ow...

Oh my friend. My sweet, gentle horse. My sweet gentle...

I looked back just in time to see the horse throw a fit, circle round and around neighing loudly.

Rearing  high on his hind legs, he stamped my empty Easter Basket to shreds and galloped down through the grove with the pink ribbon in his mouth.

I will come back to visit, My Friend. This time I will just talk...on my side of the fence.