Cecil and I were reminiscing the other day about the first time we met.
My old horse, Cocoa, had died of old age in March of 2006 and we missed her a lot. It was a lonely Spring ‘round the barnyard. Dad and Grandpa worked out a trade with this fella we knew who trained horses for hay. They asked that he choose a well trained horse for me, with a good personality and slow gait because of my walking issues. He brought him down one early morning in late May. Dad dad called and woke me up and said to come outside. So I hurried up, changed my clothes, and went out where there was a horse trailer. The man was riding him, bareback, and said that I could name him what I liked. They had a number of horses at his place.
He was beautiful, his coat was copper red tones and his long tail cascaded with fading colors. And oh my goodness was he tall. Now granted I was used to my old swayed back mare and then the neighbor's tiny Morgan by comparison. This horse was built with muscle and height. He would have made an excellent horse for John Wayne; a tall horse for a tall man. Of course I did not yet know his character; he could have made a good horse for Victor McLaglen or Slim Pickens too. :0)
They both told me to play with him and see if I liked him and he liked me and how we got on before I would decide. Of course I think I loved him in the first instant. I first went up to him for the old trick my dad taught me of blowing a breath onto his nose. He let me pet him a bit, but then his curiosity took over and he realized that he had a huge pasture all by his lonesome; lacking the 50 some horses from his previous pasture. And *sniff, sniff* hmm apple trees. (I did not know at that time how pleased he was to have apple trees.) He meandered around for a bit.
It was a bit warm and I thought I would put him to a test. My dad has always been the final decision on what puppy we got. He always sat the puppy down, told it to stay, then walked away, turned, and called it by the name he chose. The puppy always came.
I got a bucket and sat in the shade of the largest apple tree, eating some yogurt for breakfast. After I finished I saw he was at the farther end, supposedly ignoring me. I called him, "Cecil, come here Cecil." He picked up his head from eating and slowly came over to where I was, but when he came over he pretended that he was not interested, however I knew he was as he was watching me out of the corner of his eyes...checking to see what and who I was.
So I thought, two can play this game, I have done it before. I turned away, where I could just see him and pretended to ignore him. It did not take long till he was moving into my sight. So I turned again and this time he moved into my sight, quicker, and I was not allowed to turn once more for he got right up in my face. I did that old trick again of blowing a breath into his nose, and that was it; he drooped his head into my lap and arms for a horsey hug and after a minute gave me a kiss on the cheek. He still does that to this day, though sometimes he makes faces too.
By the way Cecil was my great-grandpa's name, and boy does he live up to it. :0)
