A HORSE AND HIS BOY

When Wayne, my oldest son, turned two,
I bought a four-year-old, black Appaloosa gelding named Sonny.
The two quickly bonded.
Even though Wayne was too small to ride Sonny,
the two were inseparable.
We installed a fence around our well-grassed side yard
and allowed Sonny to graze freely.
He often came right up to the house.
In fact, Sonny hadn't been with us long when he ripped the screen off Wayne's bedroom window.
After that, I'd often find my son reaching out the window
to pet Sonny or to give him food.
And I'd even see Sonny's black head inside the window,
snoozing, while my son slept in his bed.

One day, I put Wayne to bed for his midday nap
and busied myself with my vegetable canning.

Time slipped past until I glanced at the clock.
Wayne hated naptime and usually slept for only an hour or so.
I suddenly realized he'd been quiet for nearly two.
I walked to his bedroom and peered around the door.
The bed was empty.
I called his name but heard no reply or noises of his playing.
I searched under the bed and in his closet.
I kept calling him and walking quickly through each room.
Perspiration broke out on my neck as it suddenly hit me.
Wayne was not in the house!

This was my worst nightmare.
Our house was surrounded by wilderness.
A wildcat frequently raided our henhouse
and would view a small child as perfect prey.

Rattlesnakes, copperheads
and cottonmouths slithered through the thickets.
If that was not enough danger,
a fishpond nestled in the pasture just below the house.

I ran to the front door.
It was still latched with a hook and eye far above my son's reach.
The back door was the same.
I stood in stunned amazement for a moment,
until I remembered Wayne's open window.

Fear rose in my heart as I pictured my toddler
trying to climb out the window.
The drop to the ground would have been more than five feet.
Surely he would have hit the ground hard enough to make him cry.
Why wouldn't I have heard him?

Running out the door, I yelled for Wayne.
Thankfully, he wasn't lying beneath his window.
But where was he?
Sonny was lying in the middle of our yard, with his back toward me.
As I looked at Sonny, he swung his head up and down,
but never made an effort to get up.

But Sonny was often lazy in the midday summer sun.
Still each time I yelled for Wayne,
Sonny swung his head up and down, more vigorously than before.
I made a mental note that once I found Wayne,
I'd have to put fly wipe on Sonny's face.
The flies must really be bothering him.

Yelling at the top of my lungs and beginning to panic,
I raced to the fishpond.
No Wayne.
I ran to the barn, but again I didn't find him.
He had to be in the woods.
I could travel faster and further if I rode Sonny.
I raced across the yard to Sonny and dashed around his rump.

There, stretched to the four winds across Sonny's four legs,
lay Wayne, sound asleep.
His head rested on Sonny's front legs
and one foot was propped on the horse's hip,
the other on one of Sonny's back legs.
Sonny lifted his head up and down once more
before placing his muzzle across Wayne's chest.

Now I understood what all that head bobbing was about.
Sonny couldn't stand up without sending the child tumbling,
and if he nickered, he'd wake the boy.

Sonny had been doing everything he could
to let me know Wayne was safely sleeping in his embrace.

I carefully picked Wayne up,
carried him to his bedroom and eased him into bed.
Sonny had already poked his head
through the window by the time I got to the bedroom door.
He whickered, and Wayne roused.
I backed up so I could watch without being seen.
Wayne went to the window and grasped Sonny's mane.
Sonny lifted his head
and Wayne wrapped his arms around Sonny's neck.
He was carried out through the window
and slowly lowered onto the ground.
I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.
Another mystery solved.

When my husband came home,
we discussed how we could stop another "window escape."
We replaced the screen and nailed boards across the window
at intervals that were too close for Sonny's head to fit through.

The boy pouted,
and the horse whinnied on the other side for a few days
until Sonny managed to get his teeth between the boards and
rip off the new screen.
His head still wouldn't fit,
but now he could at least get his nose between the boards.

With Wayne now safe in his room,
I enjoyed walking by and seeing Sonny's black muzzle
thrust through the slats.
And when my husband came home from work,
often his first view of the house showed a huge,
black horse pressed against the white boards
with the lower part of his face disappearing inside the window.

Even when the cold weather forced me to close the window,
Sonny remained outside with his face pressed against the glass,
the comfort of a stable forsaken to be near his boy.

Love Ya and God Bless!
Denise

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(From a lady who has horses........)



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