I’ve dreamed about doing this. And now my dream has come true. I just hope Colt feels the same way when I give him his horse on his birthday. Dream and I head out of town. About a block from home, the gravel road turns to dirt. The sun is shining through the trees. Birds are singing. I hear a mourning dove, a woodpecker, a cardinal, and a lot of other chirping. As if my horse can read my mind, she breaks into a canter, slow and easy. I can imagine all kinds of things. But I can’t imagine life getting any better than this moment right now. Everything in me feels thankful. And I wonder if it can be worship to be sitting on a pinto, feeling the morning breeze, and hearing the pounding of hooves on a dirt road. After my ride, I brush Dream. Then I check on Bullet. “How’s it going, ol’ boy?” I turn him out to the backyard. He goes straight for the grass. I run my hand down his neck, back, and hip. They feel equal in length. That’s something to look for in a horse. It means good balance.
