“He’s my Heart Horse,” she says by way of introduction. A hush falls over the room. Or maybe that’s just her expectation; that all within earshot will understand that this particular horse is different, a cut above the standard elite perfection of a horse, and hearing a horse introduced as such, that we will share that owner’s same reverence.
I’m not sure when the term Heart Horse came into our vernacular, but I understand the intention. It’s the designation we give to a special horse in our lives. No, even more special than other horses, even with the understanding that, sure, all horses are special. But no, really, this horse is especially special among the special. He is special-est.
To be clear, everyone tells me that their horse is special. He’s incredibly smart. He has a way of connecting that is so different. He is so sensitive. No, they assure me, so…
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