Buddy

 

I am a horse. I live at Hearts, and what a SWEET GIG it is! I am massaged on a daily basis, get regular pedicures, am kissed, cuddled, and fawned over; but I know I have a job to do. After two days of turnout, I see my morning rider arrive in his wheelchair. I am tacked up and wait patiently at the mounting block while he is gently loaded onto my back. We walk into the arena and I notice he is feeling quite strong today. We do lots of circles and figures of eight.  

 

The instructor asks for a trot; I continue walking. She asks again and I stop. Once she checks that the rider is centered I trot off and hear his gurgling laughter. The instructor asks, "do you want to go on a trail ride?"

 

"Yes!" I reply, but she doesn't hear me. She asks again and my rider says, "Let's do it!"  

 

Yippee! I think, I'll get to see new and different things. And, oh, that grass looks mightily tempting, but my leader checks me and says, "don't event think about it, Buddy."

 

Hmm, I think, this calls for the itchy leg trick, but she looks at me and says, "and don't try the itchy leg trick either; I'm on to you!"

 

Rats! I think she knows me too well. We are almost back at the Learning Center and I feel my rider is tiring, happy, but tired. I stand absolutely still while he is dismounted to his wheelchair. I am led back to the cross-ties to be untacked. Thankful that my hooves will be picked again because I acquired a rock on  the trail.

 

My leader says, "oh, sweetie!" as she gets rid of it, "that must have really hurt." I am grateful it is out, but Sweetie? Come on, I'm Buddy, I'm a dude!  

 

I go back to my corral happy to finish my breakfast, but wait; someone has put a carrot in my bucket! ah, life is good here at Hearts!