Mare In The Field

                Mare in the Field                11/19/97

    I got a friend back East named Jack. He has this harness horse--a little mare---that he’s had for a long time. She’s gotten a little worn down over the years, and his pastures are pretty stoney.  First she started pulling up lame every so often and then she began to get plain sour.  He’d go to pick up her foot and she’d act like she was gonna kick--stuff like that. Jack’s not a mean man or anything.  He’s just trying to make a living, like you or me. 

    Well, he had an opportunity to sell his place, and he took it.  But he didn’t want to lose the mare.  Maybe he mighta thought about it, but, she’s worth a lot more to him than anybody else. Anyway, you can get into an awful lot of trouble real quick with a strange horse, don’t you know!

    Jack has relatives who offered to let the mare in their pasture.  This was good pasture.  So he took her over and turned her out while he was finishing up with his affairs.  He called me the other day and told me she’s starting to look awful good out there.  He said the bloom is back on her coat, her eyes got their sparkle back, and she trots right along the fence when he drives up. It makes him remember why he got her, he said.  I can see him all misty-eyed as he thinks about it.  Then he says to me,
    “What do you think she’s gonna do when I show up with her halter?  Do you think she’ll let me catch her?”  There's nothing but recollections holding her.
         “I donno, Jack,” I tell him.  Then he says:
    “Maybe if I bring the harness --do you think she’ll come to the harness?”    
     I said--“You are kidding.”    
    “Oh, right,” he goes.  Then he says,  “I'll polish the harness,” and I'm not sure if he's joking or what.
    “HIDE the damn harness, Jack.  How'd you catch her in the first place?”
    "With carrots." 
    “Stands to reason, don’t it?”  Why do we forget these things?