Special Delivery

We got a new pony delivered at two in the morning after a late night Dodger Game hobbling on a broken toe. Also it was the wee hours of Aug 19th, the day my son was born 21 years ago. Also my son was there.

That's some pretty sweet shit. When the guy pulled up finally, 12 hours behind schedule, he didn't get out of the truck which I thought was weird. He said the halter's in the back, and it took me awhile to figure out if it was in the truck or where and then he told me to go ahead and get the baby out. 

It's weird to go into someone else's trailer, it's like you wouldn't just open anyone's trunk especially someone you've only met twice, when he delivered horses 5 and 2 years ago. I open up the back and there's the little white baby deer, Meriwether, looking at me like oh hey I was wondering where you were all my life. All his four month life.

He jumps right out of the trailer and we can't believe how tiny he is, this is the first horse I've been up close to so little as my actual horse with tiny baby feet and soft baby fur. 

Then the guy is coming around the trailer and he's pushing a WALKER, and can barely WALK. I feel so bad that I was mad how late he was, and the last time he delivered a horse it was on Christmas morning, at like 3 am, and I even gave him a tip like, thanks for being late AND ruining Christmas. But then how many times do you get a horse delivered on Christmas. 

I think maybe this is the last time he's delivering horses for me. First because next time he'd be in a wheelchair apparently, and b because I'm only going to pick up my own horses from now on, I can see the truck and trailer section of my life is about to begin. My horsemanship is growing, I've evolved. 

Also I don't need any more horses. But it is addictive.

So Meri has been with us two weeks almost. He is a thoughtful, loving, funny, fluffy little guy. I was worried the guy had to next go pick up a draft horse and drive it to New Jersey. A draft horse is like a truck and trailer all on its own, and this guy can't even walk well. I hoped he would be okay.

My little wispy Meriwether is poking around loftily, not knowing that he has landed in the softest spot in the universe. 

Just like Nathan did, 21 years ago. I still have him, too.