Older and Wiser
I don’t have a fancy pedigree like Sonny. In fact no one knows who my parents or grandparents were. A horse like me with “mystery” relatives is called a grade horse. I’m small, only14.1 hands, with patches of white and chocolate brown fur. A little girl saw me and wasn’t sure whether I was a horse or a cow. To avoid hurting my feelings, she said, “Hi, horsey-cow!”
My life hasn’t always been easy. I’ve worked hard without food, love or appreciation. Would you believe I didn’t even have a name before Mom bought me? I was simply called, “The Pinto”. She named me Cherokee because she thought I looked like an Indian pony.
When we arrived at the NEIGH-borhood, I spotted a horse watching me from the barn window. As soon as he saw the trailer, he screamed, ducked back into his stall, and then barged out again, like a bird in a cuckoo clock. “Oh no,” I thought. “I’m going to live with a crazy horse.” He was thrilled to meet me and wanted to be friends right away, but all I wanted to meet was the lush grass growing at my feet.
That night when Mom put me into my stall, she gave me a full scoop of grain, the biggest pile of hay I’d ever seen, and my first horse cookie. Whoever invented them was a genius! Even then, I couldn’t stop worrying. I’m old and my health isn’t good after years of poor care. I’d always been expected to work. Would I be sent away from this wonderful place if I couldn’t? Luckily Mom had the perfect job in mind: Sonny’s babysitter.
Babysitter Supreme
It wasn’t long before I was put to the test to see if I could handle my new responsibility. Sonny is nice, but annoying. He doesn’t chase me or steal my food, but he never leaves my side—not even for a second. When a kid rode up on his bike and rested it against the fence, Sonny panicked. He snorted, arched his tail, and took off at a gallop. I shook my head as I watched the cloud of dust chasing his hooves. “This job is going to be harder than I thought.”
Walking over to the bike, I called to him repeatedly, “Sonny! Come here!” He slowly inched his way toward me and the Scary Thing. “Smell it. It’s not alive. It won’t hurt you,” I said. Nostrils quivering, he took a sniff and then flew back, trying to hide behind bony little me. With patience and encouragement, I finally convinced him that bicycles do not eat horses. Sighing with relief, he buried his nose into his hay. I was proud to be so good at my job and happy that he trusted me. Mom patted me and said, “Good boy Cherokee. You deserve an extra cookie tonight!
By Nancy Di Fabbio
Like millions of youngsters, Nancy Di Fabbio was infatuated with horses and never gave up dreaming that one day she’d be riding one of her own. She eventually realized her dreams and got her first horse, followed quickly by her second, third, fourth and finally fifth. Passionate about sharing her love for this amazing animal, she’s written Saddle Up! – And Live Your Dream, a comprehensive how-to for the budding equestrian which will be released Spring 2012. She also writes a children’s column about the exploits of her herd, but the stories are informative, funny and touching enough to appeal to everyone. You can share their adventures on TheExaminerNews.com website under the heading: NEIGH-borhood Tales
Adam has worked in the local news industry for the past two decades in Westchester County and the broader Hudson Valley. Read more from Adam’s author bio here.