Horses Eat Tangerines Too

Our backyard was more of a barnyard than a backyard. Mom and Dad always had pets large and small, inside and outside our home. Teri and I loved the horses even when we complained about the chores that went along with them. My Dad was always trying to breed his favorite Appaloosa, Pride, to get his sought after speckled rump foal. Pride was a large dude and by far my favorite. I was always taking him tangerines from our tree. He nodded his head vigorously as he chomped down on this sometimes sour treat. My thought was he nodded because he enjoyed it so much. The truth may be that it tweaked his tastebuds. We have all bit into something that kind of shocks the back of our throat. Maybe that was Pride’s reaction although he never refused my offered citrus.

Teri and I grew up with goats, donkeys, rabbits and mostly horses at our house. They were our companions and we loved to ride. After school we would finish homework, do our chores and saddle up. Our parents gave each of us a shetlan pony for Christmas one year so we had our own horses to ride. We lived surrounded by cotton fields and there were plenty of dirt roads to venture down. Since there was rarely traffic we could just let the horses run full tilt and let the wind scream through our hair. It was a time of joy, getting lost in our thoughts as we sailed down the road on our lofty perch. I am beyond grateful that our parents gifted us with all the animals in our childhood. Tangerines or cuties always  bring back those memories of life on the Friedman barnyard zoo. 

In Him,

Joyful

5-2-19