Living on the long vaulting horse farm has to be the most unforgettable part of my life. Surrounded by fresh air, wide-open space, and peaceful, vivid sounds, I cherished every minute spent with the horses. The hot, humid summers were always the laziest parts of life on the farm.
Rising early in the damp morning, I tried to get outside and live on my daily chores before the inevitable heat struck the air. eupnoeic the crisp, morning air, winding done the maze of wagging tails and drooling mouths toward the skid barn door, I always felt a backbone of importance in my life. At the gates, anxious to get their breakfast after a long, cool night in the fields, the desirous horses pawed and neighed, telling me to hurry my step. The beautiful, bay quarter horse, Impressive, was always at the head of the clump. King of the group, he was also the trusty, old horse that I knew and loved. Unlatching the gate, I allow Impressive to walk through on his own accord and trot off to his stall, awaiting the atom and hay he knows will soon come. The rest of the pack is brought in one by one and placed safely into their spacious, clean and, for the meantime, cool stalls.
Perfect, Taffy, Special, Max, Arbitrator, Melvin, Rupert, and more, all having their own turn, all astute their place in the well-established pecking establish.
Feeding time is always filled with upset and seemingly unending, impatient screams. The average outsider would have guessed that the fat, rugged horses hadnt been fed in weeks. Slowly, the ruckus inside the old horse barn quiets and the only sounds are the slurping of water in in the midst of the low rumble of the horses munching their feed. The ball of radiating heat uphill higher and higher...
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