The Black Pony, sample chapters
It has been
proven by science and those who love and study animals that all animals
communicate. Not only with each other within their own species and family
groups, but also outside these groups and with members of other species. They
suffer loss, rejoice in fun, face challenges and fears and find peace with
like-minded souls. If only we could understand the words of these creatures. If
only we had an ear to hear and the heart to
understand.
1. Alone Again
Clank! The horse trailer door slammed shut.
“NO! This can’t be happening. Not again. I thought you were taking me with you this time.
You even came into the corral to brush my coat and get me ready for the games.
No fair!”
The black pony whinnied through the slats of the front gate, and watched as his boys, Eddie and
James, waved goodbye and climbed into the cab of the pickup truck. Midnight
pushed against the gate and called out to his stable-mates.
“Wait! Wait for me!” But it was no use. Jake and Hammer, the tall horses who had shared the
corral with him for the past year, disappeared into the trailer. Now that
trailer them away with his boys. He paced the length of the front fence and
tried to catch a glimpse of the vehicle as it clattered away in a cloud of dust.
“They always get to go to the playdays now,” he whinnied again.
Midnight tossed his head in protest and snorted at the fence corner as he pawed the
ground, furiously. “Why don’t I ever get to go any more? Just because I am not
as tall as those other horses doesn’t mean I can’t still run.” He whinnied one
more time, then turned, and walked to the back of the dusty corral to wait,
alone again.
Bored and lonely, Midnight wandered over to the hay rack to check for any leftover hay. He
sniffed at the rack. Empty. He checked out the bin under the rack and finally
the ground under it. Just as he expected, not a single stalk left to munch on.
He had nothing to do, no one to play with, and nothing to eat.
“I wish I could find a friend again.” He sighed aloud. “I know someone out there needs
me.”
He peeked out through the slats of the fence at the front of the corral wondering if anyone
was nearby. Sometimes he would play tag with one of the cats or the dog. I
have to get out of here and find someone to visit with. He thought. He
walked all the way around the corral, checking every part of the sturdy fence.
Pushing here and stretching his neck out to reach a clump of grass in a
different spot. But the fence held sturdy and unmoving. Humph, can’t even
reach the grass this way.
Back to the front of the corral he set his attention to the gate. He used to be good at
nudging it open. Carefully the black pony eased his head out through the bars of
the gate and found the latch. His strong, sensitive lips tested the new
contraption which held the enclosure secure, but the con-founded thing hung on
fiercely, like its life depended on staying firmly in place.
“This used to be easy, but after the boys added this thing, it’s impossible.” He
grumbled. One last flip with his lip and he gave up. He whinnied a call out to
anyone who might be in the neighborhood and pricked his ears forward to listen
intently. No answers. Nothing. So he pulled his head back inside the corral and
waited.
A noisy blue jay flew up and landed on a fence post. She cocked her head and eyed a feed
bucket hanging on the fence by a hook looking for a scrap of oats to steal. The
black pony nickered a greeting, “I’m called Midnight. I’m so happy you’ve come
to visit me.”
“No time, no time, I have fledglings to feed!” The blue jay piped, and she flew away.
“No friend there, for sure”. The black pony sniffed the feed bucket, to make sure. Nope,
nothing in here, just like the jay had reported.
The Arizona sun burned high in the sky and even in mid spring, the temperature already rose
nearly to the boiling point. The Black Pony moseyed up to the water trough.
Maybe a drink would satisfy what he needed. The round, concrete tank sat under
the fence between the corral and a pasture next door with a small arc jutting
into the back yard of the house. A box covered the hose and automatic valve on
the section of tank protruding into the yard, and a piece of chicken wire
fastened to the fence kept him from playing with the valve, or chewing it up.
He wasn’t really thirsty, after all, so he splashed in the water a bit with his lips. He
tried to catch one of the goldfish who lived in the tank. But, they huddled in
the cool, dark bottom searching for algae and bits of crunched up oats which
might have drifted down when the horses came to drink. A block of wood floated
on the surface of the water; a life raft for any unlucky bird who happened to
fall into the tank while trying to get a drink. So, he played with the floating
wood until he grew bored again.
Midnight turned from the tank and sighed. His ears flopped and his head drooped. He
snuffled in the dirt and closed his eyes for a minute to remember the happier
times, the times when he had carried the boys on their fun rides. The boys had
raked his corral clean before they left for their ride. But the scent of the
other horses still hung in the air, along with their own scent. He sniffed a
boot print in the dirt and remembered how he had taught his boy, Eddie, to hang
on while running a complicated pattern at the games; the highly competitive,
agility type horse events which he considered himself to be so good at. He
sniffed a hoof print and thought about the two tall horses who had come to his
corral and disrupted his happy life. Jake and Hammer were friendly enough, but
they were playday game horses and seldom had time for him. And now he seemed to
be left out of everything.
Once more he whinnied. Louder, this time. Perhaps someone would hear and come to visit. He
listened again. Nothing. He trudged over to a shady place where the tree grew on
the outside of the fence to wait.
Three chickens came, scratching and clucking, into his corral. They were busy at the most
important job of finding any tasty thing to eat and thereby ridding the yard of
pesky insects. They quickly found a liking to the loose sand in the horse corral
and began to fluff the sand up into their feathers.
“Would you like to play and visit with me for a while?” Midnight reached out and tried to
sniff noses with a hen. But she squawked and pecked at him.
“How dare you interrupt a hen at her dust-bath! Come, sisters, Let us be gone from here!” she
clucked indignantly and hurried her friends out of the pen.
Midnight shook his head. “They’re not at all friendly today!”
Biting flies soon started to bother him stinging his back and shoulders where his tail didn’t
reach to brush them off. He finally retreated to his favorite spot at the side
of the corral and lay down to roll and scratch his back. He scratched this way,
and that. He wiggled his hard, black hooves high in the air, and squiggled his
back in the sand. Only when he finished scratching and put his hooves down and
tried to stand up again, something different happened. Somehow, during his
rolling, he had wiggled himself too close to the fence and accidentally put his
hooves under the bottom rail!
The Black Pony touched the fence with his nose and snorted. “If that don’t beat all!” He had gotten
stuck in fences before, not the prettiest memory. This fence didn’t seem nearly
as intimidating as the other one. He gave it some thought and decided going
under the fence made perfect sense. So he wiggled and pawed and kicked with his
back feet to push himself farther under the confining fence.
“Now what?” Still under the fence, flat on his side, for all practical purposes the black pony
looked to be frightfully stuck.
“I must try harder.” With determination and a cool head, Midnight kicked and pawed a few more times.
He squirmed and grunted and he pushed himself right under that fence. One more
glance over his shoulder at the rails to be sure he was clear and he scrambled to his feet.
“I’m free!”
* * * * *
“You said we were going to study Math today and afterward we could hang out!”
“I know, Annie, but something came up and I have to go.”
Three sixth grade girls stood in uncomfortable silence. Annie had arrived moments ago, after
her two mile walk, and now Mary decided to change her mind and spend the
afternoon with Janet. Annie’s hands trembled. Her stomach dropped into her
shoes. Taking deep breath, she closed her eyes and nodded. No use fighting the obvious.
“It’s all good.” Annie forced a smile toward the girls.
“No, you don’t understand!” Mary tried to make her excuses. “We have to go and this is a closed
meeting. I forgot until Janet got here. My Mom’s taking us right away.”
“So what’s up with the beach bag?” Annie sneered.
Janet slid her bag behind her back and hung her head to hide her reddening cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I’ll head back home and do this on my own. You two have a great
afternoon” Annie turned on her heel and made her retreat through the back door
with as much dignity as she could find. She was careful not to let the screen
door slam behind her. No way on Earth would she would let them see her hurt or
angry by their cliquish behavior.
“One day you’re the cool new friend, and the next day you’re excess baggage.” Grumbling
under her breath, she re-folded her Math worksheets and stuffed them back into
her hip pocket. A water bottle hung by a clip on her belt loop. She took a long drink before
heading back down the long dirt road. It may be a bit tougher catching up on this school’s
math to say nothing of all that state history I have to learn in order to pass, she thought.
No matter where I end up, it’s always the same; Deep South, Midwest, Northwest, Gulf Coast and now
Arizona, the new kid in school gets left out of most everything. Annie
kicked a rock down the dirt road and followed it to kick it again. Especially
when I have to move in the middle of the school year, again!
Well, this time will be different; she had already decided how it would go. Her parents had promised
this would be their home base. The family still may do some traveling, but always come back here.
I have to fit in this time. And, I really thought I had it right this time, a few friends who are pretty good
kids, going to Sunday School more often, joining in with a good attitude, even this math study group
thing, ugh. I may not be one of the popular kids, but I will be one of the good kids here and
make some real friends.
That was the beauty of travel. You could make a new start every time you arrived in a new place. And
depending upon your mood, you could be one of the ‘good kids’ or you could be ornery. She continued
to kick her stone down the road as she thought about her life.
Annie smiled, remembering some of her previous schools. In Louisiana she had been one of the
nerds, a plan which hadn’t worked out so well. Last stop over in Georgia she had
been a troublemaker, prankster, talking and joking around in class and teasing
the teachers. Not that she didn’t like Georgia with its rich culture and
different way of looking at history; she even loved the old school. She just
wanted to find out what it was like to be in detention all the time. She knew
that she would be moving out just as fast as she moved in and no one in the new
school would know the difference. How could they? If no one knew you, they
couldn’t prejudge you. People may not ‘prejudge’ but they certainly do have a
way of singling out the kids who come and go.
Annie’s keen eye caught a shadow of something in the bushes by the side of the road and the sting
of rejection was instantly forgotten. A tiny bird’s nest was woven into the fine
branches of a thorny bush. It was well camouflaged and she may have missed it
altogether but she kicked her rock under that bush. On her knees and barely
breathing, she pushed a branch slightly to the side and looked into the
perfectly round ball of twigs and grass. No sudden movement, she didn’t want to
frighten the owners of the little home.
Annie peered into the nest. It seemed to be glued into place on the branch and the same substance
lined the enclosure that wasn’t even as big around as a 50 cent piece. A
movement! Two heads the size of green peas poked up out of the nest and tiny
voices peeped out a pitiful cry for food. Their long, slender bills waved into
the air, eager for the food that would soon be there for them. Annie froze and
held her breath as an iridescent form flashed to the lip of the nest. A male,
green hummingbird paused for a split second, dipping his head to fill the crops
of his fledglings then just as quickly, he disappeared.
Annie waited a few more minutes, hoping the mother would show herself. Her legs felt numb and she
finally gave up. She whispered to the baby birds a quiet thank you for inviting
her into their home for a while and she slipped back from the bush to continue
her long walk home. “Ha!” she stretched and laughed out loud. “You just don’t
see that every day! I’m glad I didn’t stay at Mary’s house today. That was too cool!”
2. Freedom
The black pony bobbed his head and stared back at the fence. What a surprise! He learned a new
trick, now to remember it. He sniffed the fence where he had escaped to be sure
he could find the spot again. Then he jumped for joy and galloped for the house.
He stuck his nose into the opening that led to the dark crawl space under the
house and snuffled loudly to the cats.
“Max and Kitty! Come out and play!” He pricked his ears and strained to hear an answer
from one of the cats. Where could they have gone? Just then a bit of sand
trickled down his leg from his back and he remembered a very important part of
rolling. In all the excitement of the escape, he had forgotten to shake!
He stretched out his neck and shook his head, then his neck, and finally his barrel, until
his whole body jiggled side to side. He shook so hard that the dust flew off his
back in a storm that could have been a haboob! One of the giant, desert
sand-storms that blew in some times. The dust got caught up in the black pony’s
nose and he gave a huge sneeze, right into the crawl space of the house.
Tiny squeaky mews could now be heard. Their angry mother, Kitty, growled a stern warning “Go
away, you have frightened my newborn kittens!”
“So much for playing with the cat, she’s busy with her kittens!
And the dog must have gone with the people someplace.” He thought to himself. So
he continued his search for a friend or some adventure. He clomped up the stairs
and onto the back porch. A salty aroma came to him from a dish by the back door.
But one taste of the dry cat food in the wide dish and he knew that it was not
for him! Yuck! He bobbed his head, dropping bits of kibble all over the
porch. His upper lip curled in a pony laugh.
“A-ha, the tack room! There is always something good to eat in there, and maybe the mice
are out and would like to play.” He jumped off the porch in a rattle of hooves
and trotted across the yard to go investigate the wide, open place where the
horses always went to get their saddles put on. It was at the front of the small
horse barn which was attached to the corral. He hardly ever went into the barn
any more, unless there was a storm. But, he had not been into the tack room
since the boys brought home those playday horses. Of course the first place to
check out was the feed bin. He knew right where it was, he had been in it
before. But some new, shiny clips had the lid fastened down tight. He could
smell the rich, delicious oats in the bin, but could not get the lid to budge
even a little bit. So he investigated the rest of the tack room.
He found his bridle hanging on a peg on the back wall. For the past few months it had done
nothing other than gather dust, and a spider web. “Icky, a sticky spider web!”
He curled his lip again at the acrid scent then rubbed his nose on his leg to
get rid of the web. A spider shook her leg at him and quickly began to repair
her web, so the black pony turned his attention elsewhere. A pony saddle sat on
a rack by the wall. He missed the stiff little western saddle. He had worn it
when the boys were younger. “I hope those big horses know that it was me who
taught those boys to ride.” He stamped a hoof and snorted to himself. The black
pony investigated the variety of buckets and boxes full of liniments, leg wraps
and various sizes of leather straps and tools, and other horse things designed
for some sort of comfort or control. He tipped over a bucket full of brushes,
picked them up with his teeth, and scattered them around the floor of the tack
room. But he could not find a single treat to much on, and the mice were deep in
their holes for the day.
He got tired of playing with the brushes pretty quick and with no one to talk to and nothing
to eat in the dusty desert barnyard the black pony wandered out of the yard to
search for a friend. He lived at the end of the long county road and pasture
fences blocked his way in all directions except for the road itself. He
meandered this way, he trotted that way. He sniffed at an old rabbit hole under
a prickly-pear cactus.
“I know you are in there! I don’t know who you are, but I can sure smell you. Come out so we
can play!” He tugged on a dry tuft of winter rye grass, but a clump of dirt came
up with it. So he shook it up and down and dropped it into the old rabbit hole.
“Go away!” squeaked the cottontail rabbit. “It is not time to play. It is time to be safe
at home!” Midnight’s head drooped and he walked to the other side of the road to
find some grass to nibble on.
* * * * * *
Annie walked a little slower and kept her eyes on the sparse bushes that dotted the edges of
the dirt road. Where there’s one, there’s bound to be more. She smiled to
herself as she relived the moment when the hummingbird had appeared by the nest
to feed his young. She knew it was the male, he was so brilliantly colored, but
he was so fast, and she couldn’t tell what he had fed the two fledglings. “Note
to self, check out book on hummingbirds, find out what they eat. Besides fake
syrup from a hummingbird feeder.” Her eyes scanned the branches of a wide
mesquite tree.
Her smile faded. Then when I figure out what hummingbirds eat, I will try to figure out
what I’m doing wrong with these stupid word problems. She stared at the road
as she walked and tried to picture two people going in different directions and
how long would it take to go a mile, or two miles, and the numbers again started
jumbling up in her head. Ugh, no use! The soft tones of a Mourning Dove
caught her attention and she wandered off the road toward the saguaro cactus
which seemed to broadcast the dove’s song. It was the tallest cactus she had
ever seen and it looked a little bit like a traffic monitor holding up his hand
to stop the traffic so the kids at the school could cross the road. A solitary
dove sat on the highest tip of the raised arm and cooed. “I guess you are all
alone today, too. Where is your family?” She called out to the dove, but he flew
away.
proven by science and those who love and study animals that all animals
communicate. Not only with each other within their own species and family
groups, but also outside these groups and with members of other species. They
suffer loss, rejoice in fun, face challenges and fears and find peace with
like-minded souls. If only we could understand the words of these creatures. If
only we had an ear to hear and the heart to
understand.
1. Alone Again
Clank! The horse trailer door slammed shut.
“NO! This can’t be happening. Not again. I thought you were taking me with you this time.
You even came into the corral to brush my coat and get me ready for the games.
No fair!”
The black pony whinnied through the slats of the front gate, and watched as his boys, Eddie and
James, waved goodbye and climbed into the cab of the pickup truck. Midnight
pushed against the gate and called out to his stable-mates.
“Wait! Wait for me!” But it was no use. Jake and Hammer, the tall horses who had shared the
corral with him for the past year, disappeared into the trailer. Now that
trailer them away with his boys. He paced the length of the front fence and
tried to catch a glimpse of the vehicle as it clattered away in a cloud of dust.
“They always get to go to the playdays now,” he whinnied again.
Midnight tossed his head in protest and snorted at the fence corner as he pawed the
ground, furiously. “Why don’t I ever get to go any more? Just because I am not
as tall as those other horses doesn’t mean I can’t still run.” He whinnied one
more time, then turned, and walked to the back of the dusty corral to wait,
alone again.
Bored and lonely, Midnight wandered over to the hay rack to check for any leftover hay. He
sniffed at the rack. Empty. He checked out the bin under the rack and finally
the ground under it. Just as he expected, not a single stalk left to munch on.
He had nothing to do, no one to play with, and nothing to eat.
“I wish I could find a friend again.” He sighed aloud. “I know someone out there needs
me.”
He peeked out through the slats of the fence at the front of the corral wondering if anyone
was nearby. Sometimes he would play tag with one of the cats or the dog. I
have to get out of here and find someone to visit with. He thought. He
walked all the way around the corral, checking every part of the sturdy fence.
Pushing here and stretching his neck out to reach a clump of grass in a
different spot. But the fence held sturdy and unmoving. Humph, can’t even
reach the grass this way.
Back to the front of the corral he set his attention to the gate. He used to be good at
nudging it open. Carefully the black pony eased his head out through the bars of
the gate and found the latch. His strong, sensitive lips tested the new
contraption which held the enclosure secure, but the con-founded thing hung on
fiercely, like its life depended on staying firmly in place.
“This used to be easy, but after the boys added this thing, it’s impossible.” He
grumbled. One last flip with his lip and he gave up. He whinnied a call out to
anyone who might be in the neighborhood and pricked his ears forward to listen
intently. No answers. Nothing. So he pulled his head back inside the corral and
waited.
A noisy blue jay flew up and landed on a fence post. She cocked her head and eyed a feed
bucket hanging on the fence by a hook looking for a scrap of oats to steal. The
black pony nickered a greeting, “I’m called Midnight. I’m so happy you’ve come
to visit me.”
“No time, no time, I have fledglings to feed!” The blue jay piped, and she flew away.
“No friend there, for sure”. The black pony sniffed the feed bucket, to make sure. Nope,
nothing in here, just like the jay had reported.
The Arizona sun burned high in the sky and even in mid spring, the temperature already rose
nearly to the boiling point. The Black Pony moseyed up to the water trough.
Maybe a drink would satisfy what he needed. The round, concrete tank sat under
the fence between the corral and a pasture next door with a small arc jutting
into the back yard of the house. A box covered the hose and automatic valve on
the section of tank protruding into the yard, and a piece of chicken wire
fastened to the fence kept him from playing with the valve, or chewing it up.
He wasn’t really thirsty, after all, so he splashed in the water a bit with his lips. He
tried to catch one of the goldfish who lived in the tank. But, they huddled in
the cool, dark bottom searching for algae and bits of crunched up oats which
might have drifted down when the horses came to drink. A block of wood floated
on the surface of the water; a life raft for any unlucky bird who happened to
fall into the tank while trying to get a drink. So, he played with the floating
wood until he grew bored again.
Midnight turned from the tank and sighed. His ears flopped and his head drooped. He
snuffled in the dirt and closed his eyes for a minute to remember the happier
times, the times when he had carried the boys on their fun rides. The boys had
raked his corral clean before they left for their ride. But the scent of the
other horses still hung in the air, along with their own scent. He sniffed a
boot print in the dirt and remembered how he had taught his boy, Eddie, to hang
on while running a complicated pattern at the games; the highly competitive,
agility type horse events which he considered himself to be so good at. He
sniffed a hoof print and thought about the two tall horses who had come to his
corral and disrupted his happy life. Jake and Hammer were friendly enough, but
they were playday game horses and seldom had time for him. And now he seemed to
be left out of everything.
Once more he whinnied. Louder, this time. Perhaps someone would hear and come to visit. He
listened again. Nothing. He trudged over to a shady place where the tree grew on
the outside of the fence to wait.
Three chickens came, scratching and clucking, into his corral. They were busy at the most
important job of finding any tasty thing to eat and thereby ridding the yard of
pesky insects. They quickly found a liking to the loose sand in the horse corral
and began to fluff the sand up into their feathers.
“Would you like to play and visit with me for a while?” Midnight reached out and tried to
sniff noses with a hen. But she squawked and pecked at him.
“How dare you interrupt a hen at her dust-bath! Come, sisters, Let us be gone from here!” she
clucked indignantly and hurried her friends out of the pen.
Midnight shook his head. “They’re not at all friendly today!”
Biting flies soon started to bother him stinging his back and shoulders where his tail didn’t
reach to brush them off. He finally retreated to his favorite spot at the side
of the corral and lay down to roll and scratch his back. He scratched this way,
and that. He wiggled his hard, black hooves high in the air, and squiggled his
back in the sand. Only when he finished scratching and put his hooves down and
tried to stand up again, something different happened. Somehow, during his
rolling, he had wiggled himself too close to the fence and accidentally put his
hooves under the bottom rail!
The Black Pony touched the fence with his nose and snorted. “If that don’t beat all!” He had gotten
stuck in fences before, not the prettiest memory. This fence didn’t seem nearly
as intimidating as the other one. He gave it some thought and decided going
under the fence made perfect sense. So he wiggled and pawed and kicked with his
back feet to push himself farther under the confining fence.
“Now what?” Still under the fence, flat on his side, for all practical purposes the black pony
looked to be frightfully stuck.
“I must try harder.” With determination and a cool head, Midnight kicked and pawed a few more times.
He squirmed and grunted and he pushed himself right under that fence. One more
glance over his shoulder at the rails to be sure he was clear and he scrambled to his feet.
“I’m free!”
* * * * *
“You said we were going to study Math today and afterward we could hang out!”
“I know, Annie, but something came up and I have to go.”
Three sixth grade girls stood in uncomfortable silence. Annie had arrived moments ago, after
her two mile walk, and now Mary decided to change her mind and spend the
afternoon with Janet. Annie’s hands trembled. Her stomach dropped into her
shoes. Taking deep breath, she closed her eyes and nodded. No use fighting the obvious.
“It’s all good.” Annie forced a smile toward the girls.
“No, you don’t understand!” Mary tried to make her excuses. “We have to go and this is a closed
meeting. I forgot until Janet got here. My Mom’s taking us right away.”
“So what’s up with the beach bag?” Annie sneered.
Janet slid her bag behind her back and hung her head to hide her reddening cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I’ll head back home and do this on my own. You two have a great
afternoon” Annie turned on her heel and made her retreat through the back door
with as much dignity as she could find. She was careful not to let the screen
door slam behind her. No way on Earth would she would let them see her hurt or
angry by their cliquish behavior.
“One day you’re the cool new friend, and the next day you’re excess baggage.” Grumbling
under her breath, she re-folded her Math worksheets and stuffed them back into
her hip pocket. A water bottle hung by a clip on her belt loop. She took a long drink before
heading back down the long dirt road. It may be a bit tougher catching up on this school’s
math to say nothing of all that state history I have to learn in order to pass, she thought.
No matter where I end up, it’s always the same; Deep South, Midwest, Northwest, Gulf Coast and now
Arizona, the new kid in school gets left out of most everything. Annie
kicked a rock down the dirt road and followed it to kick it again. Especially
when I have to move in the middle of the school year, again!
Well, this time will be different; she had already decided how it would go. Her parents had promised
this would be their home base. The family still may do some traveling, but always come back here.
I have to fit in this time. And, I really thought I had it right this time, a few friends who are pretty good
kids, going to Sunday School more often, joining in with a good attitude, even this math study group
thing, ugh. I may not be one of the popular kids, but I will be one of the good kids here and
make some real friends.
That was the beauty of travel. You could make a new start every time you arrived in a new place. And
depending upon your mood, you could be one of the ‘good kids’ or you could be ornery. She continued
to kick her stone down the road as she thought about her life.
Annie smiled, remembering some of her previous schools. In Louisiana she had been one of the
nerds, a plan which hadn’t worked out so well. Last stop over in Georgia she had
been a troublemaker, prankster, talking and joking around in class and teasing
the teachers. Not that she didn’t like Georgia with its rich culture and
different way of looking at history; she even loved the old school. She just
wanted to find out what it was like to be in detention all the time. She knew
that she would be moving out just as fast as she moved in and no one in the new
school would know the difference. How could they? If no one knew you, they
couldn’t prejudge you. People may not ‘prejudge’ but they certainly do have a
way of singling out the kids who come and go.
Annie’s keen eye caught a shadow of something in the bushes by the side of the road and the sting
of rejection was instantly forgotten. A tiny bird’s nest was woven into the fine
branches of a thorny bush. It was well camouflaged and she may have missed it
altogether but she kicked her rock under that bush. On her knees and barely
breathing, she pushed a branch slightly to the side and looked into the
perfectly round ball of twigs and grass. No sudden movement, she didn’t want to
frighten the owners of the little home.
Annie peered into the nest. It seemed to be glued into place on the branch and the same substance
lined the enclosure that wasn’t even as big around as a 50 cent piece. A
movement! Two heads the size of green peas poked up out of the nest and tiny
voices peeped out a pitiful cry for food. Their long, slender bills waved into
the air, eager for the food that would soon be there for them. Annie froze and
held her breath as an iridescent form flashed to the lip of the nest. A male,
green hummingbird paused for a split second, dipping his head to fill the crops
of his fledglings then just as quickly, he disappeared.
Annie waited a few more minutes, hoping the mother would show herself. Her legs felt numb and she
finally gave up. She whispered to the baby birds a quiet thank you for inviting
her into their home for a while and she slipped back from the bush to continue
her long walk home. “Ha!” she stretched and laughed out loud. “You just don’t
see that every day! I’m glad I didn’t stay at Mary’s house today. That was too cool!”
2. Freedom
The black pony bobbed his head and stared back at the fence. What a surprise! He learned a new
trick, now to remember it. He sniffed the fence where he had escaped to be sure
he could find the spot again. Then he jumped for joy and galloped for the house.
He stuck his nose into the opening that led to the dark crawl space under the
house and snuffled loudly to the cats.
“Max and Kitty! Come out and play!” He pricked his ears and strained to hear an answer
from one of the cats. Where could they have gone? Just then a bit of sand
trickled down his leg from his back and he remembered a very important part of
rolling. In all the excitement of the escape, he had forgotten to shake!
He stretched out his neck and shook his head, then his neck, and finally his barrel, until
his whole body jiggled side to side. He shook so hard that the dust flew off his
back in a storm that could have been a haboob! One of the giant, desert
sand-storms that blew in some times. The dust got caught up in the black pony’s
nose and he gave a huge sneeze, right into the crawl space of the house.
Tiny squeaky mews could now be heard. Their angry mother, Kitty, growled a stern warning “Go
away, you have frightened my newborn kittens!”
“So much for playing with the cat, she’s busy with her kittens!
And the dog must have gone with the people someplace.” He thought to himself. So
he continued his search for a friend or some adventure. He clomped up the stairs
and onto the back porch. A salty aroma came to him from a dish by the back door.
But one taste of the dry cat food in the wide dish and he knew that it was not
for him! Yuck! He bobbed his head, dropping bits of kibble all over the
porch. His upper lip curled in a pony laugh.
“A-ha, the tack room! There is always something good to eat in there, and maybe the mice
are out and would like to play.” He jumped off the porch in a rattle of hooves
and trotted across the yard to go investigate the wide, open place where the
horses always went to get their saddles put on. It was at the front of the small
horse barn which was attached to the corral. He hardly ever went into the barn
any more, unless there was a storm. But, he had not been into the tack room
since the boys brought home those playday horses. Of course the first place to
check out was the feed bin. He knew right where it was, he had been in it
before. But some new, shiny clips had the lid fastened down tight. He could
smell the rich, delicious oats in the bin, but could not get the lid to budge
even a little bit. So he investigated the rest of the tack room.
He found his bridle hanging on a peg on the back wall. For the past few months it had done
nothing other than gather dust, and a spider web. “Icky, a sticky spider web!”
He curled his lip again at the acrid scent then rubbed his nose on his leg to
get rid of the web. A spider shook her leg at him and quickly began to repair
her web, so the black pony turned his attention elsewhere. A pony saddle sat on
a rack by the wall. He missed the stiff little western saddle. He had worn it
when the boys were younger. “I hope those big horses know that it was me who
taught those boys to ride.” He stamped a hoof and snorted to himself. The black
pony investigated the variety of buckets and boxes full of liniments, leg wraps
and various sizes of leather straps and tools, and other horse things designed
for some sort of comfort or control. He tipped over a bucket full of brushes,
picked them up with his teeth, and scattered them around the floor of the tack
room. But he could not find a single treat to much on, and the mice were deep in
their holes for the day.
He got tired of playing with the brushes pretty quick and with no one to talk to and nothing
to eat in the dusty desert barnyard the black pony wandered out of the yard to
search for a friend. He lived at the end of the long county road and pasture
fences blocked his way in all directions except for the road itself. He
meandered this way, he trotted that way. He sniffed at an old rabbit hole under
a prickly-pear cactus.
“I know you are in there! I don’t know who you are, but I can sure smell you. Come out so we
can play!” He tugged on a dry tuft of winter rye grass, but a clump of dirt came
up with it. So he shook it up and down and dropped it into the old rabbit hole.
“Go away!” squeaked the cottontail rabbit. “It is not time to play. It is time to be safe
at home!” Midnight’s head drooped and he walked to the other side of the road to
find some grass to nibble on.
* * * * * *
Annie walked a little slower and kept her eyes on the sparse bushes that dotted the edges of
the dirt road. Where there’s one, there’s bound to be more. She smiled to
herself as she relived the moment when the hummingbird had appeared by the nest
to feed his young. She knew it was the male, he was so brilliantly colored, but
he was so fast, and she couldn’t tell what he had fed the two fledglings. “Note
to self, check out book on hummingbirds, find out what they eat. Besides fake
syrup from a hummingbird feeder.” Her eyes scanned the branches of a wide
mesquite tree.
Her smile faded. Then when I figure out what hummingbirds eat, I will try to figure out
what I’m doing wrong with these stupid word problems. She stared at the road
as she walked and tried to picture two people going in different directions and
how long would it take to go a mile, or two miles, and the numbers again started
jumbling up in her head. Ugh, no use! The soft tones of a Mourning Dove
caught her attention and she wandered off the road toward the saguaro cactus
which seemed to broadcast the dove’s song. It was the tallest cactus she had
ever seen and it looked a little bit like a traffic monitor holding up his hand
to stop the traffic so the kids at the school could cross the road. A solitary
dove sat on the highest tip of the raised arm and cooed. “I guess you are all
alone today, too. Where is your family?” She called out to the dove, but he flew
away.