This is Jack.
Jack is 30 years old.
Do not say, “Poor Jack.”
Jack has a good life.
Jack lives with Harold and Joyce in North Missouri.
Jack has an entire pasture to himself, not counting deer and turkeys.
No ones tells Jack what to do. No, sir.
Jack taught a slew of grand kids how to ride.
He was almost always patient with them.
Even a patient horse has his limits.
He’ll slow down when he damn well feels like it.
Jack has a barn to go in when he’s cold.
He is seldom cold.
Jack is no wimp.
Jack’s old buddy Harold feeds him grain every evening.
Neither one talks much.
They prefer it that way.
They have an unspoken understanding.
When someone from the city visits, Jack gets lots of sugar cubes.
Harold is not entirely pleased about this.
Chill, Old Man.
Jack has earned the right to eat junk food.
In the summer, Jack gets fed corn husks and carrots.
This pleases him.
Jack deserves to be spoiled a little.
Good horse, Jack. Good horse.
2 thoughts on “Jack, the horse”
I love this! You, Sir, just made your way into a 6th grade writing lesson at Princeton R-V. You’re made it to the big leagues! 😉
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Do I have a shot at the Calamity Jane endowed chair?