The Birthday Boy

He’s got to take a big breath to blow out all those candles!

Today, Stoney turns seventeen.  I’m a bit sad that I’m not able to celebrate (not that it makes much difference to him) but there are lots of people who adore the big guy and will dote on him, filling his enormous belly with carrots, apples and sugar cubes.

Stoney is, in many ways, the fulfillment of my dreams.  How many little girls plead with their parents to get a horse of their own and never see their begging come to fruition?  Not only did my incessant whining result in a gorgeous horse, I’ve witnessed miracles that have allowed him to stay in my life.  Over the years he matured to the point that he is wonderful with my own children who have been blessed with a life right alongside the handsome beast.  Together, we’ve had dozens of our own little adventures from galloping through cross country courses (which in the first few times ended with me on the ground and him hightailing away until we got the hang of it), triumphantly winning blue ribbons in our dressage classes, riding through the buttes and prairies of Fort Robinson State Park, floating weightlessly on his back as he swam in the lake after a morning trail ride . . . he continues to delight me as well as any child or horse-lover that comes into contact with him.

Because of him, I’ve had the awesome experience of living in the country.  As a youngster, he was terrified of poultry, strollers, cows and people giving each other piggy-back rides.  Having lived on our farm where chickens run free, he can study the neighbor’s cows just across the road and strollers now mean mealtime, there’s not much that weirds him out.