Childhood Dreams

Some things just don't change.

When I was six, I would spend hours on search engines, looking for a horse to buy. Owning one was my dream. I remember when I discovered that adopting a rescue horse from the Houston ASPCA would only cost me $200. That was only like, four years of chores, though, it seemed completely reasonable to me.

I still remember the day my mom finally admitted to me that the city wouldn't allow us to keep a horse on our mere one acre, and how shocking and heartbreaking the news was for me. Now I smile at my naive, little dreaming heart.

I owned three different horse encyclopedias and read them daily. I knew very well the best kinds of feed, how to dig rocks out of hooves, and the distinct differences between English and Western riding (with a burning preference for Western). Those encyclopedias are still on my bookshelf.

My favorite movie was Spirit. My favorite book was My Friend Flicka.

Maybe I loved horses so much because I identified with them. They are gentle, supportive, beautiful and empathetic; all things I wanted to be. They're also high-strung, stubborn, and slow to trust; all things I've always been. I still feel that way about myself and the animals.

I'm no good at a lot of things. Very few things come naturally to me. The one thing that has my entire life, though, is being able to see the life and emotion in animals. I've always seen them as living beings with emotions and thought processes, and I love to be around them. They can think. They can love. And I happen to love them back, a lot. Especially horses.

(And goats.)

This is my friend, Fred.

When I was nine, I took riding lessons. That year, I was chosen to ride in the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo on a black and white horse named Panda. I was nervous, she was too, and she spooked multiple times. We came in last. I still cherish the memory.

I got in trouble multiple times at lessons for trying to get my horse to gallop, as trotting got boring. According to my instructor, I wasn't ready for it. I thought that was stupid.

One time the horse I was riding freaked out at a gate slamming closed. She went back on her hind legs and kicked, and for a minute I thought I was going to be thrown off, stepped on, and killed. I don't remember what I did, but I do remember the owner of the horse riding up to me to say, "You handled that horse really well. You're very natural with her. Good job." I was really young. I wasn't good at much. I'm still not. But I could handle horses, and I loved them with my entire little heart.

My ultimate dream was to grow up, marry someone handsome and hardworking like dad, build a cabin in the mountains together, and raise ten children and ten horses.

And, like I said, some things just don't change.

To spend my days outside with people and the most beautiful creatures on the planet. To raise sons into hardworking men who can read, argue, and shoot a gun. To watch mountain sunsets every night. That sounds alright to me. I guess I never grew up.

Maybe it's the Texan in me. I play the violin fiddle. I own riding boots. My family says grace before every meal. I can two-step like a pro. I know every cut of steak there is and how to cook it right. I love open fields. I think country music is cool. And I think the thunder-sound of hooves beating the ground is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

I'm going to see the world. I'll leave my heart in so many places. I am passionate about this beautiful planet and unlocking its secrets.

But I will always have a special place in my heart for my home, and my childhood dream.

#Y'ALL

*Big thank you to Simply b Photos for the lovely picture.