Recently my husband confessed he wanted a horse.Â
“I’ve always wanted a horse,” he said.Â
We’ve been married almost 12 years, and this was certainly news to me.
“What’s the point of a horse?” I asked.
I, for the record, am not a horse person. My plan was to fill our farmstead with animals who would provide us with food in return for their feed bill, not simply look pretty while standing in a pasture.
“Seriously? You want a horse?” I asked again.
Yes, he wanted a horse. And some time later, the horse arrived.
Jasper is an 11 year old quarter horse/thoroughbred who now lives in our barn. Jasper eats lots of feed. And hay. And harasses my goats. He’s mowed my pasture down. He won’t wear his fly mask. He and I have had words. I often ask him “My goat gives milk and my chickens give eggs…what do you give?”
He very clearly says to me, “I give rides.”
Well, yes Jasper. I suppose you do that.
Even though I occasionally have words for Jasper, my heart has softened a bit towards him. You see, even though I still consider myself more of a chicken/goat/pig kind of gal, I realize I’ve figured out what the purpose of a horse is.
My husband likes Jasper. And Jasper makes him happy.
And that’s enough purpose for me.
