The Deck

 The arrangements had been made.  Lady was going away for training.  The trainer, Marion, only lived a few miles away.  He was probably in his mid-fifties, and when he walked, you could tell by his slight limp and posture, something had given his body more than it was made to endure. Something I suspected, that had to do with a horse, but I really didn't want to know.

It didn't see to slow him down though. He and his wife went trail riding at least once a day.  "Some days we go out riding in the morning and then again in the evening",  he had told me.  He owned fifteen horses, he had said, "last time I counted anyway".  His ranch also included several small burros and  many cats, who looked like old pros at dodging cars, people and hoofs.

Dad and  I decided to lead Lady the short distance to Marion's ranch.  Down the dirt road and thru a field we went, with  Lady walking ahead of me, all the while pulling on the  lead rope.  I firmly held on, trying to pull her back, unsuccessfully.    By the time we got to Marion's I was more than ready to turn her over to him, my right arm aching from the constant tug-a-war. 

Lady and Pistol had been with me a year and during that time Lady had slowly learned she could trust Dad and  I.  She loved to be scratched right above her tail.  The first time she backed up to me I swatted her.  She jerked away from me and looked shocked.  She looked at me as if to say "Why did you do that?"  It suddenly occurred to me that her intentions were not what I thought.  I had read that when a horse backs up to you they are showing dominance and getting ready to kick.  Reading about horses behavior, I have learned, is just a general guide.       

After the first several months here, Lady revealed her true personality.  She was affectionate and full of energy.  She loved to run around the yard.  She would run bucking, kicking and then stopping to rear up on her hind legs.  Her gait was beautiful.  She'd run with her tail up, and she would daintily pick up her hoof and place them back down, in what looked like slow motion.  Her dabble grey coat had faded from the desert sun, she looked more white now. 

Pistol would join in the frolicking.  The pair running in the yard, sometimes on a collision course with each other, I'd hold my breath and watch them veer away from each other at the last possible second. 

But now, without Lady's companionship, Pistol seemed lost.  He would sulk around the yard.  He spent most of his time gazing down the dirt road in the direction his mom had gone.  He would stiffen up his body and make it high and erect, then let out a loud call. He'd wait for her response, but none came.

While I was at work, Dad would spend as much time as possible with Pistol.  Dad would take him out of the fenced yard and lead him out in the open desert fields. Way off in the distance you could see a few houses.  But between those and my house, there was miles of open desert. 

Between Dad and I, at that time, we owned six dogs, all would join in the fun.  They and Pistol would play chase, taking turns being "it", the chaser.  It was an awesome sight to see Pistol running free and of course, he loved it.  He would include Dad in the games too.  Pistol would run straight for Dad, making eye contact with him, then at the last second, turn slightly and run right past him.  "You don't want to move in either direction at the last second" dad had told me.  "The horse has it planned out and  you might accidentally move in the same direction as him!"  

To the South of us lived Betty, our closest neighbor.  She owned a beautiful American fox hound named Basil.  One day, Dad decided to take Pistol to Betty's house for a visit.  Pistol ran up to the house ahead of dad.  His sudden appearance must have been a shock to Basil, because he immediately began barking at Pistol in what appeared to be an attempt to protect his territory from this huge creature.    Pistol paid no attention to Basil and walked around to the back yard.  There was a feast waiting for Pistol there.  Betty had grape vines growing on the back side of her deck.  Pistol spent time browsing on grapes, mulberry bush, and a Chinese elm. 

Basil,  still barking, was now at Pistol's heel's, occassionally niping them.  Suddenly, Pistol turned and chased Basil, who ran a circle around the house. Going around the the second time,  Basil ran and  jumped up onto the front deck.  Pistol followed running up the stairs behind him. With a loud thud, Pistol's front hoofs hit the wooden stairs.  The deck bowed under the full weight of Pistol. The pair ran a cricle around the straining platform before they each jumped off onto the ground, with Pistol still in pursuit of the barking beast.  Basil, realizing the deck was not safe, ran under the house and hid.