A galloping tale
It was an amazing feeling, running free on the beach, with the waves washing up on your hooves and feeling that you’re sinking in the wet brown grains of sand. It was a feeling of freedom. Comparable only to that of running fast across an infinite field. That was what it was like. If you hadn’t lived it, you wouldn’t know.
Chestnut was lucky enough to experience it every day.
And he absolutely loved it.
“Cheeeestnut! Come on boy, are you ready for a run? We’re going up the valley today. Would you like that? Max may come too with Bella, so you might get some flirting going, lucky boy!”
“Caroline is such a doll!” thought Chestnut. “She always cares about what I want and if I’m well. Heck, she is even setting me up with a beauty! How did she know I wanted to see her again? Did she realize we clicked? Hmmm, was it that obvious?” Chestnut almost blushed, if horses did…
He loved Caroline because she loved him. And it was like an action-reaction, you give something and they give it back. Except if they give you an apple, or sugar, then you don’t have to give anything back. Usually a gentle whisk of your long soft tail would do it. And a smooth petting of your owner (or occasional feeder if different) with your clean and freshly washed snout.
Chestnut was always clean. He was brushed and taken care of very often. More often than usual. That’s what he was told at least, by the other horses he met on his excursions. It made him feel special. Like royalty. Only he was more than that. He was family, and that meant the world to him.
But now, now he was off to sparkle some charm on one of his own kind. Because all’s well and fun, but once in a while he does need some of his own to speak his own language. You know what he means… 😉