What's in a name...One...
"Working a caravan means horse work, even most of the rail bound routes still require hay burners in the winter and Sam clearly had little to no experience with horses. Not that I was any expert. I kept a hold of the horse’s mane as I showed Sam how to brush her out and lay down what little I kept in the way of treats or prime feed. It was simple grooming 101 but it was like pulling teeth, for both of them."
"The horse didn’t trust Sam, or like him much given his first attempt to man handle her back at the orchard. Sam was equally skittish and ready to duck away as she tried to sway away from him or reach out to bite at exposed fingers."
"The bucking finally woke Emma and she lifted up and got to digging behind me to tend to the baby who had started to shuffle and fuss. I didn’t try to get out of the truck. I got my right hand involved and wound it around the hair of the horse’s mane while I stayed in the truck."
“She’s going to bite, let her settle on a rag or your shirt. Quit dodging away from it, let it happen. You’re just wasting time trying to avoid it.”
"Sam looked at me like I had lost my mind and I couldn’t help but smile. “She doesn’t forget, and she seldom forgives. Just like me. You gotta come at her ready for what she’s ready to give you, once she’s said her piece, then you can move on.”
"Sam started brushing at her side and held a rag out, everything was good until he reached her forelock, she pulled back and bypassed the rag and sunk her teeth into his shirt. The yank that followed was just enough to put Sam on his ass. He grunted and started backing away as he stood up but I shook my head and got the horses attention in the process. “Don’t you dare back away. That was nothing but life reminding you that things can always go sideways. Keep the brush working along her flank, drop a handful of those dried out chunks of apple from the bag, let her work at those while you work on her.”
“Does she have a name?”
"I looked at Sam as he slowly worked at brushing. “I call her, Horse. She hasn’t told me what her name is, maybe she never will.”
“Well, before all this, did you call your dog, dog?” I looked over at Emma as she got busy feeding the baby. “I didn’t have a dog before all this. My mother had a menagerie of pets when I grew up, they all seemed miserable and flea bit, she gave them names that they never answered to. It always seemed sad and stupid to me. We give names to things because it makes us feel better, like we suddenly have power of the world around us. That’s all bullshit, we have no power, not even over each other unless we use guile or cruelty. I don’t see a need in naming her anything but Horse.”
“What about all the horses on the caravans you worked?”
"I looked at Sam as he continued to work the brush and drop bits of feed on the ground. “They were all De Silva’s property. I didn’t call them anything. I just rode them and fed them, none of them had this horse’s sense or smarts.”