Derina Pyles
Horse Sense
“Run, Seabiscuit! Run!” I yelled as I turned Traveler out into the pasture for the first time in a month.
He had developed a nasty hoof abscess from the damp spring. Diligently treating it day after day is not the kind of glamorous life most people think comes with horse ownership. The vet finally cleared him for pasture time, and to say Traveler was excited was an understatement.
After a good five minutes of frolicking, bucking, snorting, and kicking up his heels, he came galloping back to the gate, barely putting on the brakes in time. “Whew, that felt amazing,” he huffed.
“I think you have what they call the zoomies.”
“Can you blame me? I’ve been cooped up in that stall for six months!”
“It’s been four weeks, Traveler,” I replied sarcastically.
“Details, Hay-Woman, details! I’ve been suffering immensely … never seeing the outdoors, never smelling the sweet scent of the dewy grass in the morning, never gazing up at the crystal blue sky and fluffy cotton ball clouds, never rolling in the textured sand to scratch an itch, never galloping …”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I interrupted. “No need for all the theatrics. I’m the one who’s been soaking, cleaning, and wrapping that hoof of yours every day. Not to mention putting up with all the attitude.”
Traveler’s eyes changed from large and wild to soft and gentle. He hung his head and walked slowly to me. “Have I been that bad?”
“It’s been tough,” I said honestly. “But I love you and would do anything possible to help when you need me. That’s what friends do.” I smiled as I scratched under his chin, one of his favorite “itchy” spots.
Traveler pondered a few moments and then stated, “Proverbs 17:17, A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”
I gleamed. “Traveler! That is a perfect verse for us today. I’m proud of you. You’ve been studying the Bible while injured.”
Now it was his turn to gleam, “I sure have.” Then, with shame, he said, “I’m sorry about my attitude. I am very grateful for everything you have done to help me heal. But there is one thing…”
“What now?”
He muttered, but loud enough for me to hear, “I’m never going back into that stall.”
I shrugged and said, “Fine with me.” Then I turned to go back out the pasture gate. “Well, I guess it’s about supper time.” Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I walked with intent toward the barn to begin feeding everyone their nightly grain.
“I’m right behind you Hay-Woman!” he yelled as he pranced back to his stall to wait for his food.
