The Horse Napper

We had horses when I was younger, and I was completely mad about them.  I spent every spare minute I had, out in the pasture, sitting with them, brushing them, riding them.

When we’d go to friends homes that had horses, that’s where I’d disappear to, not caring if the animals were friendly or not.  Even if they weren’t, I’d still be found, staring longingly through the fence at the beautiful beasts on the other side.

And, if there were babies, I was crouched in the middle of the pasture, patiently waiting. 

I’d wait for hours if necessary, quiet, head down, non-threatening, with possibly a little bit of tasty grass clutched in my sweaty hands. 

Patience.

And, many times, it paid off.  The foals would approach, cautiously, fearfully, tentatively.

And once in a while, I’d get one to relax enough, to trust me enough, to let me be his or her pillow.  Stiff-legged, I’d sit, totally blissed out on the smell of horses, sunshine and dust.  Back cramped and a smile wide enough to split my face in half, petting the softest hides on the planet, to my young, horse-crazed mind.

The picture above is not my first shot at horse-napping, nor was it my last.  It was just the only one that got captured on film. 

I’m not especially known for my patience, in fact, most of the time, I’m the one chomping at the bit to get moving, get it over with, rip the bandaid off all in one go.

But I will wait for some things.  Patiently, quietly, with sweaty palms and heightened awareness.  When it’s something I truly want….. I can wait.