Horses are unpredictable creatures. They will eat themselves to death, and they could care less whose hay crib they are in when they do it. They buck or break and run without provocation. They will kick you in the head and literally bite the loving hand that feeds them.

I had grown rather fond of my ole steed. I enjoyed having him around. I obviously misinterpreted his gentle nudges and regular visits to the stable as genuine affection.

Just as I was about to take him out for a hell-of-a ride, he caught a whiff of a young mare in season. He bolted off like a fickle young stud forgetting I was there. I was heart broken that he’d rather root around with some other filly than go for a ride with me.

I blame myself.

I can’t really blame them. After all, it was only a natural attraction. She is younger, prettier, more adventurous and much more likely to participate in horse play. Not to mention the fact that I put them into the same corral in the first place.

Still, my feelings were hurt. I was devastated, destroyed, and distraught. I felt betrayed, left out, left behind, and unloved.

Apparently I’m not actually entitled to feel hurt. It was an irrational, delusional, fantasy, on my part, to imagine he was ever interested in being my gallant charger.  But Damn, if I’ll be giving him any sugar cubes any time soon.

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