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The Reporter's Notebook
When our youngest daughter was about 10, we bought her a horse.
A real old cowboy lived about four blocks from us, and I got acquainted with him. His name was Homer.
He lived in a small house on the edge of Bothell and had a two- to three-acre pasture that on occasion was home to a horse or two.
While visiting with him one day, he suggested that I ought to buy Kim a horse. He said he would rent the pasture to me real cheap.
I explained that I didn’t know anything about horses, only that they had four legs and a mane.
He said he would help me pick out a gentle horse.
I placed an ad in the paper and got a response. I said in the ad I wanted a gentle horse.
So Homer and I went out to look at the horse. He said it looked to be about 12 years old and it was gentle enough.
Little did I realize at the time that you don’t just buy a horse. There was a need for a saddle, bridle, combs and brushes to say nothing about hay and grain and an occasional vet visit.
We got the horse to Homer’s pasture by a borrowed pickup and horse trailer.
It was really a high-water mark for the family.
Kim named the horse “Siera,” and we were in business.
Homer had a cowboy attorney friend who was always hanging around Homer’s place and accordingly became a friend to me.
Things went on pretty well, and Kim entered the horse in a few fairs and shows and picked up a ribbon or two. It wasn’t a show horse and not a nag, just a good kid’s horse.
There was the usual bale of hay in the trunk of my car and some oats, but all seemed to be alright.
One Saturday there was a pounding at the door, and when I opened the door it was the attorney.
He said he was just down in the pasture and the horse had a foal.
I told him he must be mistaken and that it was someone else’s foal.
We rushed to the pasture and sure enough the foal, long legged and all, was right with our mare.
The attorney said that sometimes a new colt needed to have help with its first bowel movement and that he would take care of it.
I could have thought, what a fitting thing for an attorney.
So I watched and thanked the world for a cowboy attorney.
Kim named the foal “Sunshine,” and it was truly a bright sunshine.
People rushed to the pasture to watch the young horse playfully run all over.
The long and short of it was that I had another mouth to feed.
It was a lot of fun, though.
One night there was a pounding at the door, and when I opened the door it was the neighbor telling me that our horse was out and roaming around the area.
I hurriedly got dressed and found the horse and colt near our house. Thank goodness the mare knew where home was and the colt was right there with her. So I got a hold of her halter and was able to lead her and the colt back to the pasture. Someone had left the gate open.
As time went on and Kim’s interest started to change, it became evident that it was time to sell the horse and colt.
Our desire was to find the horse a happy home and for a place the colt could grow up in.
It was a pretty good experience and I really got two horses for the price of one.
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