Dad hooked up the trailer and told all of us to get in the truck. His usually sullen mouth was turned up at the corners. Was he smiling? It was the beginning of summer and we all wanted to play outside on this beautiful, sunny, blue-skied day. There was not a cloud in the sky, but we obeyed and squeezed in the little old regular cab truck. The four of us kids were wondering where he was taking us.

With the old black trailer in tow, we headed north, towards our old farm house and our old neighbors. We took gravel the whole way there, evoking memories. We drove right past our big old white stucco house, right to my neighbors, just five miles away from Fonda. As we pulled in the driveway, my neighbors waved. We had arrived at our unknown destination, but we still didn't know what we were doing there. We piled out of the truck and said hello, carelessly running off to play with our old pals Mike and Trevor. Dad and Gary talked and headed for the barn.

I heard neighing and whinnying, wondering what they were doing, but to carelessly engaged in at least an afternoon of a childhood taken away too soon by mortgage payments and grocery bills, not supported by an Iowa childhood growing up on the farm. Abruptly, out of the old creaking, paint chipped barn, came a beautiful horse. He had chestnut hair and a snow white star. His mane and tail were miles long and gleaming. He pranced around the grassy, green yard wearing his halter and rope proudly, and he had the sweet smell of hay on his hair. We went to pet him and we was so very tame. It took us a while to think of a name, but after about an hour and a half, we finally thought of one. Bentley. We loaded him into the trailer and headed for home.

The first thing that we did when we arrived was unloading him and set up his new home. We spread fresh golden straw on the freezing cold, cracked cement floor of the barn that smells of grit and dust. We gave him a place for fresh, cool, and clear water and sweet smelling food. He loved how he was able to roam his large grassy pasture and ate fresh, bright green grass. Bentley loved his new home.

When he first arrived, he was able to meet some new friends, a short, fat, and pregnant nanny goat, a very smelly and hairy billy goat, and their very small and playful kids. He enjoyed talking to them over the fence and even shared the company of them in his spacious pen a couple of times. He had so much space to roam and was able to run around and play all day long. Bentley became so much healthier than he was when he arrived.

Bentley loved the golden corn that smelled of fresh black soil and last fall’s harvest, and also the sweet smelling goodies that he gobbled right up to help him grow big and strong.

I brushed him every day to keep his coat clean and gleaming. I braided his hair to keep it from tangling and took him on walks to get out of his pen and get some extra exercise. I would walk him all around the farm, up and down the long dusty driveway, into the lush green grove that smelled of evergreens, and back to his pen for water and rest. He loved the attention and became part of my family fast.

The first time we put on the new brown leather bridle with a shiny metal bit, laid down the fresh black and blue striped saddle blanket, and the newly washed leather saddle, we were set to ride.
Bentley could run, and not just on the rocky driveway, he could run anywhere. He ran through the tall grassy pasture, down the gravel road, and in the grove, ducking the thick needle evergreen trees. He ran all over and loved every minute of it. By the end, we were both sweating. He needed a good brushing to get all the tangles out of his mane and tail, and also get all of the black Iowa topsoil off of his coat.

The first time that I ever rode him, we ran through the pasture and started into the field. Bentley would not stop. I pulled back the reins. I pulled as hard as I could on those coarse leather ropes. I pulled, I commanded, I did everything that I could, but Bentley resisted it all. I eventually stood up, swung my feet over that saddle and jumped off, pulling the reins hard as I did this. When I landed on the ground, Bentley immediately stopped in his tracks and looked at me. I stood there, dusted myself off, and jumped right back on, this time starting with a walk and working my way up to a run again.

When my siblings and I would come home from a long day at school, on crisp autumn days, we would pick an apple off of the tall crab apple tree and give it to him. The apples were so sweet that he would eat them whole and not waste a bite. He also loved getting sugar cubes and hay after a long ride and even the extra corn when dad wasn't looking. He was an amazing horse with such a big heart.

Bentley took care of us kids, played with us, listened to us, and watched us. He has seen us grow up and learn new things. He has a calm way of life, and has never acted up. He has always been a laid back horse. He still goes about his days grazing the grassy pasture with two new friends alongside him, Minnie and Serena. They keep each other company, and bring each other back to good health when they are sick or hurt. They run and play together all day long.

Being responsible for taking care of another creature life gives you a sense of ownership and capability. You learn so much about yourself through owning horses. They teach you responsibility, temperament, and attitude. Horses have character, and they build yours. They teach you about love and life. You develop a forever bond with them. They can bring together a family. You come so close with them that you can’t spend a second away.