A boy and his horse…

When I was a young boy, my older brother, Andy, had a horse named Thunder.  I remember watching the two of them as they rode across the fields, seeming to float across the grass at speeds that made my young mind dizzy.  The bond between them was special, and it was obvious to all that witnessed them when they were together that they were a single unit, body and soul.  As I grew, I never gave up hope that someday I would be able to share that same bond with a horse of my own.  The years passed, and as life would have it, that someday always seemed to be out of reach for one reason or another.  When my brother passed away 7 years ago, the dream of having a horse of my own was rekindled, perhaps as a way of keeping his memory alive.  As fate would have it, the Man works with a wonderful woman at the hospital who has a passion for rescuing horses, and I was introduced to Alex.  In his prime, Alex was a champion harness racer with the world at his feet, but once age set in and he started to slow down, he was no longer the darling of the track.   As with most aging horses, Alex’s future was a dim one, and he was literally rescued from the truck that was about to take him away.  While the Man and I finish preparing the fields and the barn that Alex will soon call home, I spend as much time with him as I can, grooming and riding him, and sharing treats.  There is no fear, no trepidation with either of us, and we easily slip into a routine built on trust.  When we ride, we become one, as my brother did with his best friend so many years ago.  What comforts me the most isn’t that I have that connection to a brother I miss dearly, but that I now realize that those were the happiest days of my brother’s difficult life.  He was full of life then, and in my heart, he is alive and happy still…