Curly ~ Part 2

Continued from previous post, Curly ~ Part 1

My wonderful parents were so comforting and supportive of me, even though they didn’t quite understand my crazy love for this horse. A few weeks passed with me still devastated at the loss of Curly, when one day a friend noticed an ad in a local horse-trading magazine. The ad described Curly just as we knew him- how many horses are lacking a mane and tail? We called the number, and lo and behold, it was my Curly, up for sale again! We had him on his way back to me in a few short days. I am so thankful for the friend who noticed the text-only ad that day; it would have been so easy to overlook that page or to not pick up the magazine at all. My many heartfelt prayers had been answered.

I remember when Curly arrived safely back at the barn. I thrilled at the sight of his little bald elephant tail peeking over the top of the trailer when it drove up. With tears of joy in my eyes and trembling hands, I backed him out of the trailer. I couldn’t seem to stop touching him, petting him, kissing him. He was back, and I was never letting him go again.

A sweet friend took pictures of Curly’s and my reuniting, and I am so thankful; I was too distracted to ever have thought of taking pictures! The first thing I did was tie him up at the hitching rail and brush him. My mom, little sister, and I brushed and admired and brushed some more. Curly was excited, pulling on his lead rope, head high, ears pricked. I settled him into his stall and spent goodness knows how long just being with him.

Curly was probably the best thing that could have happened to me at that time in my life. Rather an “ugly duckling” before his winter curls came in, Curly taught me the value of appreciating something regardless of its looks. On the busy trails people would often stare at Curly, some with a kind smile, to whom I am forever grateful, and some with an ugly snicker who would just make me hold my head higher. Curly had a wonderful spirit, and a beautiful build if one could see beyond his lack of hair. I loved his willingness, his bravery, his curiosity, his spunk, his sense of humor, his affectionate nature. I believed in him while others scoffed, and truly learned the value of appreciating inner beauty. I wasn’t best friends with a gorgeous 15 hand palomino purebred gelding, though he was all those things. I was best friends with an incredibly loyal, fearless, fun-loving horse whose most wonderful characteristics weren’t visible to the naked eye.

To be continued tomorrow . . .