I step out of the old farmhouse into brisk February evening air. If only I weren't house sitting, and I actually owned this place!! I head straight for the shadowy bank barn, and flip on the first light switch I can remember. Ah, barn and pine shavings, nothing like it! I grab the green lead rope and head straight for the pasture. Seven Arabian steeds to bring in, one at a time.
As I near the gate, soft nickers and expectant eyes greet me. I reach for my favorite, the calm, dependable Luka. Hey buddy, I whisper. We walk to the barn and he gets the first stall on the right. I bring the rest of the horses in, one after another, even my least favorite, the opinionated, bossy, glimmering, chesnut gelding, Pride. He's the best looking horse on the farm, but also quite a handful.
As per instructions, I walk around to each stall, and put blankets on each horse for their night in the drafty old barn. Luka, first because he's my favorite. Pride, next, because he's across the aisle. I reach for Pride's blanket hanging on his wall; he prances around me as only an Arabian can do. I cut him off and begin to lay the blanket across his back. He grabs it and pulls it off his other side, nearest the wall. As I reach for it, he prances around me again. Around and around we go with this game, until I leave the stall and attend to all the other horses. I say to myself as I close his gate, I will never own a horse like this!