It is always a delight to walk up to my home in the barn because of my travel through the pasture where some of my horses live.
Right now there is the Spicy Etta, the youngest of my weanlings at three months. She is short and stout, quick to rear or whirl and kick out as she keeps the bigger, bruising boys from pushing her around. Ever confident, she oftentimes sidles up to a horse four times her size to nuzzle his withers and invites a vigorous nuzzle in return. Even in her youngest hours she would walk straight and strong, ears and eyes focused forward, the instinct of fleeing with fear far away in a distant past.
If I am not mindful I could take it for granted and her confidence would not be shared with me.
