More Horse

We spent the weekend with my DH's maternal Uncle and his wife. Uncle is a true cowboy. He is blacksmith, shoes horses, breaks horses, makes his own chaps, and packs mules amongst other very cowboy things. I am not a cowboy. Nor am I a cowgirl. Growing up on a small farm, we were not allowed to have horses because you could not eat them! Back on track now...My son loves animals. This is not an uncommon occurance for children. But let's face it, I am bragging about my son here! He rode his first horse with Uncle. He did not hold onto the saddle horn at all. He first held his hands together in front of his chest and soon relaxed into a position with his arms spread out on either side. Uncle would circle the corral once or twice and then stop in front me and my husband. Each time Clay would say, 'More Horse' and they would circle around again. He was so at ease on top of Handy the horse. He rode on two different days, picked weeds for the horses to eat, handed me small handfulls of hay to give the horses, sang three songs to them (Sing a Song, Old MacDonald and Patty Cake) and wished them good night each evening we were there. It was a memorable weekend.