The Lovesick Stallion
Once upon a time there was a beautiful horse called Henry, nowadays he spent a lot of his time galloping around the meadows. This he had always done, so it was very strange what happened to him, this beautiful day, in August. He stood quite still and wondered why it was he had never, ever wanted to run free~ it just never came into his mind before ~ yet, here he was in the middle of the paddock, thinking just that.
Henry , which was the name given to him when he was born, had lived in the same place all his life. The Barn, his home since he was a small colt, stood as lovely as ever in the corner of his paddock, he wanted for nothing; fresh hay, grooming by a beautiful young filly named Janice, whose pony tail was almost as long as his, brought him fresh water and food everyday, in fact, every day he was well looked after.
As a youngster, he had remained rather a gangly, little chap for quite a while, he often thought this was why he had been able to stay at Brookefield and not been sold on. Now however, he had made up for the lost growing times with his rich, grey dappled coat and a mane and tail that could have been made with spun silver and spiders webs covered in morning dew, he had also grown in stature and by the time he was three, he could have been mistaken as Tolkein's great Shadowfax. Yes, life for Henry was very comfortable to say the least.
Maybe that is why he suddenly began to have this desperate urge to be free; roam the wild meadows beyond the hills. These thoughts were very alien to Henry, but they remained with him all that day. Night began to fall and Henry made his way down to the barn, his stable I suppose we should call it. After eating his supper he stood by the stable door, resting his long neck against the wooden rail, he smiled as his eyes rested on the worn out groove to one side of the feeding basket. He smiled again as he realised that he was dreaming of the one he loved far, far away.
.............
and they lived happily ever after.
