A Change of Heart

You didn't want anything to do with it, really. 

But I couldn't bare that my own kid was so uncomfortable with farm life any longer.

So I signed you up. 

On the ride there, yesterday afternoon, you drilled me with questions:

"How many days a week do I have to do this?...

For how many months?...

How many hours each time?...

Do I HAVE to even if I don't like it?"

When we arrived at the stables you were more than hesitant. 

But this wasn't your first rodeo. 

You knew from history that no amount of complaining or arguing 

would get you out of meeting your instructor and the horse she would assign you 

for the coming season of riding lessons. 

Linda was as nice in person as she seemed in our phone conversations 

over the past few months. 

She knew just who you were the second she laid eyes on you, 

and she never once called you Zach the entire night. 

(This is a common name mistake people tend to make when they first meet you… 

welcome to the club, my name is far too often, Laurie.) 

I was pleased to watch you light up a little as we rounded the corner

to see two large horses standing in a row, tethered to the stable walls

for grooming, saddling and bridling.

You were tipped to over-joyed when 

you discovered that the stables were teaming with CATS!

Big, beautiful, curious cats!

You spent some time playing hide-and-seek and making 

BEST friends (as you assured me) with each of them. 

After watching the evening lessons, Miss Linda surprised us

by asking you if you were interested in having a ride!

YOUR FIRST EVER... and I was kind of sure you would decline.  

But you did not. 

You strapped on your safety helmet, 

and strode right out onto the riding rink. 

I could tell you were actually glad to be 

mounting and riding a REAL HORSE!

I was so proud and excited! 

Of course, I hid myself and all my emotion

behind the lens of my camera as I quietly observed. 

You LOVED your guided ride, and you told me 

that you would have liked to ride for LONGER. 

When it was all over, Miss Linda put you to work 

helping to feed the horses. 

On the way home you drilled me with questions:

"Can't I go more that once a week?

What if I want to ride longer than just one hour?

Do I get to go after the summer... like when it's cold?

Will you and Daddy buy me my own horse?"

I guess you changed your mind.