The sound of hoof beats on the soft dirt of the corral surrounds my every thoughts and actions. One off beat sound could send my focus flying out the window. All of my concentration is on the two thousand pound animal circling around me. The distinct scent of horse sweat lingers in the air. There is nothing in the world besides me and my horse that is until the sound of my mom’s voice intrudes rudely.
From outside her bedroom window, “Put that animal away and do your chores!”
Frustrated with having to stop early, “Whoa boy!”
In a swift motion his feet freezes to the ground until I call him to me. Proudly, he walks over to me and doesn’t stop until his nose is practically against my face. Every time he breathes out, his hot breath blows the hair out of my face. Waiting for the perfect timing, he licks my face and wraps his head around me for a hug. Unconsciously I wrap my arms around his thick, sweaty neck.
“You silly house, c’mon let’s put you away.”
He follows directly behind me, nudging my back as if telling me to walk faster.
“Chill sheesh.”
Hanging his head he walks slower, trying not to upset me. I grab his green and purple lead rope and attach it to the nylon halter I made him. All I have to do is drape the lead around the hitching post and he knows to stay still.
“You were a good boy today, do you think you deserve an apple?”
He nods his head up and down a few times, sending his auburn mane flying into the slight breeze.
“I just can’t say no to such a cute horse, let me get you one.”
As he enjoys his juicy, green apple I brush off the excess hair shedding from his coat. I remember the first time I saw him, I just knew he had to be mine. At the time he was just a yearling, but man was he a beauty. From afar he seemed to have a pitch black coat other than his white socks and the white tip of his ears. When you got closer, it was then that you could see his auburn mane and tail and the mud brown spots blotched all over his body. His baby blue eyes were the sprinkles on the cake.
My mom was against me getting him, but my dad was all for it. Whatever my dad said went, so he got me the horse under the condition that he could name him. As weird as my dad was, he named my cold Goose. My dad died a year later, so Goose was the only thing that left memories of him.
Goose stepped on my foot, bringing me back to the present.
“Oww that hurt you jerk,” I say while finishing grooming him.
Dreading doing my chores, I put goose out in the pasture. After putting away the tack I trudged up toward the house. Seeing that I left him, Goose let out a faint nicker telling me not to leave. I waived him goodbye as I approached the porch. Standing at the door staring at him as the sun hits his coat making him shine, is a pleasure that I get after working him.
I finally pushed open the door to see my mom standing there waiting for me. The expression on her face wasn’t new to me. I could tell that she hated my existence.
“I told you thirty minutes ago to do your chores, it shouldn’t take that long.”
“I’m sorry mom, but it takes a while to put Goose away after working him.”
