Dot

The frozen alfalfa crunched under my feet as I walked to the far corner of the west forty that crisp fall morning. The cold sent vigor to my steps and a tingle to my face and hands. Horned larks flitted up ahead of me, their undulating flight keeping their tiny horns just beyond my range of vision. The sun would soon be up to melt the frost from the alfalfa, leaving it limp. I walked over a little rise and there she was among the other horses---Dot, my own riding horse! 

Dad had given me this two-year-old bay filly with a white dot on her forehead for my eighteenth birthday. I’d played with her since she was a baby, but now she was mine. My brothers usually trained our two-year-olds, but they were off fighting in World War II, so we took her to my cousin. He rode her for two weeks and that’s all the training she ever got. From then on, I simply rode her. 

That frosty morning, I had come to the field with only a halter and lead rope. Dot let me walk up to her. I rubbed her muzzle, scratched behind her ear, and slipped the halter on. I snuggled my face in her winter coat and it felt soft as a down comforter. The ride back to the barn was pure joy as I relaxed into her movements and felt the warmth of her body under me. I’d been riding since I was a kid, but riding my own horse brought a whole new world of sensations. 

I loved to brush and curry her. She was gentle and seemed to return my love. I’d saddle up, and we'd go for a ride down the country road or out through the sagebrush. She was always willing, not high spirited, but willing. Riding Dot was like taking a Sunday afternoon drive. We enjoyed a slow lope but we'd never have won a race. 

The following summer when I went to live at my uncle's place and ride range for him, Dot went with me. I didn't ride her on the job because she knew nothing about handling cattle, but if I wanted to take a leisurely ride in the cool of the evening, she was my choice. There was something warm and comforting about Dot. We had a special relationship that I’ve never enjoyed with any other horse.