Reflections

I woke up today thinking about something that happened a long, long time ago. Whenever I got Buck, we couldn't afford a saddle. Six or eight months later, my grandma bought me one. She bought me a brand new saddle just because: Not for Christmas, not for my birthday, just because. I was so freakin proud of that saddle. I loved hearing the leather creak constantly as we broke it in. The innocence of childhood is a lovely thing.
About six months later, Buck and I hitched a ride (walked to town) for the horse show at the local fair. I had entered us in every single class and visited the library countless times-just to try and figure EVERYTHING out. Sometime in the day, about halfway through the show a very very old man walked up to take a look at my horse. He gave Buck a few pats and whispered something I couldn't hear. He then turned to me and said "that saddle doesn't fit this horse." I was a little taken aback. I mean, who is this guy and what's he thinking? This is MY horse. Good grief, I was such a stupid young selfish kid :) I shrugged my shoulders at him and he narrowed his eyes, I said quite haughtily "My grandma bought me that saddle." Indeed. He seemed angry and walked off and I just couldn't understand what his freakin problem was. I think I've figured it out. That old man probably didn't give two shits about a dumb ass like me, he just cared about my horse. In a way that it doesn't matter who had the papers, or a bill of sale, he just loved horses and saw that mine was uncomfortable. I get it now, and I will always do everything to be an ambassador for EVERY horse. Not just my own.