Horse Stories
I grew up listening to horse stories. My dad is a master at them. Ask him about Diamond, Radar or Poco. Nudge him to share the story of the run away team or the time he accidentally bought that mare who loved to buck. I smile just thinking about these stories and the horses that are the stars of them.
Horses were part of our family in a way. Some passed through our lives quickly and others where fixtures, dear to our hearts. We had a working cattle ranch and horses were both work and play for us. When it was time to move cattle, I always rode Whiskers. He was sorrel gelding with a small white star on his head. No fancy white legs or big striking blaze across his face. Rope horses were the valuable ones on the ranch and Whiskers didn't even know how. As a kid, that made me think I was riding a second class horse.
But I can not even begin to guess now how many hours that second class horse took care of me. He was so well broke, bomb proof my dad might say. Anyone could just jump on him and go, no worries. He wasn't fancy but he was good looking. We took him to every 4-H horse show and left with red ribbons. I remember him as kind and faithful. Steady. I bet you could ask any member of our family about him and they would smile just like I am now.
Has anyone out there ever cast themselves as a "Whiskers"? Do you look at others as being far more dazzling and valuable than you? Maybe you see your strengths as second class in comparison to others?
What beyond this reality acknowledgment am I not giving myself?
What is great about me that I'm not getting?
I look back now at Whiskers with such a full heart, so grateful for the gift that he was to me. I can clearly recognize just how lucky I was to have him as part of my life. He had my back. What if you didn't have to wait for all that time to pass and you could begin to see yourself through those eyes of gratitude and acknowledgment? You're the only one who can.
It really doesn't matter if you're a rope horse or not. Honest.
xo Linda
The only picture I have of Whiskers & I.
My grandpa took it and labeled it "Ready for Drive."
I'm not crying, you're crying...