Hidden Memories

Part two

I woke up to my foster parents staring down at me.   “Chris!  Is THIS the horse you chose?!” my stunned foster mother, Kelly questioned, pointing to my diamond in the rough.  “He’s so skinny that I don’t know if he will even make it home alive in the trailer!”  My horse picked up his head, and nickered softly.

“Yes it is.” I replied curtly, “and he is the only one that I wanted.”

She sighed.  “Alright.  I don’t see anything wrong with taking a charity case, if you really want him.”

I rolled my eyes, and gave an exaggerated sigh.  I hated when people took a horses value away, just because of how they looked.

My foster dad Mark glanced at my horse, and stated, “The horses that we bought are already in the trailer.  Are you ready to go home now?”  I slowly got up, and the horse followed me.  Silently, I shuffled behind Kelly and Mark, and insisted that I sit in the trailer with the horse.  Mark sighed, but Kelly laughed and agreed.  We loaded him along with the fancy, well bred horses that my foster parents had bought.  What a contrast!  I pondered. 

                When arriving back at the sprawling ranch house, I unloaded my horse first.  I pulled out the bag of carrots and gave him one.  He chomped down on it hungrily, and searched my pockets for more.  How skinny.  Poor thing, I thought.  I tied him to the grooming post and retrieved my grooming supplies and the hose, and started to hose him down.  The horse visibly relaxed, and sighed in the coolness of the water.   Soon, the dirt and mud started to crack and slide down to the ground.  I started to rub shampoo into his coat, mane and tail, and then rinsed it all off.  I shampooed again, and after rinsing for a second time, a pure black horse stood before me.  Actually, he surprised me; I thought he would be kind of ugly.  As I turned to lead my exhausted and worn horse toward the barn, I felt my foster parents’ eyes intently studying us. I was too engrossed in my horse to give any sort of acknowledgement, and kept walking.

“Chris,” Kelly stopped me.  “What are you going to name him?”

“Bones is perfect!” I tersely replied, not sure if I was joking or not.

Mark chuckled, but suggested, “How about Bear?”

After thinking on it, I shrugged and replied, “Why not, he’s sure tall enough.”

Kelly replied, “He is quite tall.  I wonder how old he is.  Bring him over for a second.”

I led my newly named horse over.  Kelly quickly ran her eyes over his undernourished body, then lifted his upper lip and examined his teeth.  I recognized this procedure of examining a horse’s teeth to approximate how old it is.  “How old is he?”  I asked.  Kelly’s blue eyes flickered in her sun-browned face as she smiled and replied, “From his teeth I would guess he is around 12 years old.  Looking at him, I would have never guessed.  He looks like he would die from old age any second now.” I snickered at her slight exaggeration. 

“He’s a Friesian, correct?” I ventured.  I had always had a hard time guessing breeds, but Friesians were my favorite, and I could accurately identify them under almost any circumstance. 

“I would say so.  It’s a bit hard to say at the moment, but once he is up to weight, we can guess more precisely,” Mark replied.  I glanced up fondly at Bear.  As Bear’s unshod hooves stumbled over the gravel path, we slowly made our way to the immaculate, spacious, 45 stall stone barn complex, which sheltered us from the intense Florida heat.  I led him to one of the empty stalls in an isolated section of the barn designated for newcomers, and he quickly rushed over to the hay in the corner and eagerly began munching away.  “This is probably the biggest and cleanest stall you have ever been in in all your life!”  I swelled with pride, knowing that I had given Bear a second chance at life.  I shuddered as I let myself under the mesh closing of the stall, realizing that if I had reached him any later, it would be too late.  He would already be arriving at the looming slaughter-house.

About an hour later, Kelly entered the barn.  She collapsed down beside me on the hay bale, and expressed, “It seems you’ve already explored the barn?” I nodded.  “You seem to be quite comfortable around Bear.  How long have you been around horses?” 

I had been waiting for this question, and had already formed the answer in my mind.  “I rode all the time until I turned twelve when my mom died.  She had a friend who had a couple horses.  I exercised them for her a couple times a week.”  Kelly sat silently for a while, her brows furrowed in thought. “Would you be willing to train Bear once he is up to weight?  I had been looking for a horse to teach lessons on for my advanced adult riders.  He is tall enough, and should be great once we train him.” Kelly inquired.

 She caught me off guard, but I nodded my head.  “I haven’t ridden in a very long time,” I shrugged my shoulders.  “I am going to be very rusty…” 

“That’s what I thought,” replied Kelly with a smile.  “You will have to ride my old lesson pony to start out, and get your muscles back in shape before you start training Bear.”  I nodded my head in excitement.  Kelly continued, “We will start lessons tomorrow.  You can use my old riding boots and helmet, but you’ll have to do something with that hair first.”  She teased me as she gestured to my spikes.  I scowled good-naturedly towards her, and Kelly burst out laughing. She stood, brushing the hay from her riding pants.  “I have a riding lesson to teach in a couple minutes.  Would you like to watch?”  I nodded, and followed her down the well maintained isle to the indoor riding arena.