by Henry Custer

It was the winter of 1979-80. Having recently retired, Jody and I took our
travel trailer to south Texas for the winter. We chose a beautiful RV park
just west of the historical town of Mission. It was a brand new park built
next to a horse pasture. I backed the trailer into our allotted space with the
rear bedroom just a few feet from the pasture fence. I had no concern
about the horse. After all, how many flies could one animal attract, and
it was at least a five-acre lot. He was a magnificent Stud, sorrel with a
white star on his forehead. Probably kept for breeding purposes.

We had probably been there a couple of days. I came home from the
community recreation hall, parked my bicycle under the awning of the trailer
and noticed the horse was standing right up to the fence with his head
over the top rail, looking into our open back window. About that time
he let out a subdued whinny. This was no surprise; I figured
someone had been feeding him apples or sugar cubes through the
fence. Having been raised on a farm, I knew how easily a horse could be
turned into a beggar. About the time I realized that he was not
looking at me, but in the rear window, I heard Jody snoring. Evidently
she was taking an afternoon nap. Now the Stud was at it
again, with that low muted whinny. Now it was Jody's turn again, she
can get quite loud sometimes.

I just stood there in amazement as Jody and the horse communicated in this
strange fashion. A new language of love? Finally, not being able to
contain myself any longer I burst out in uncontrollable laughter. This
got the horses attention and cooled his ardor I suppose. Or
perhaps he didn't feel he could compete with a human. At any rate,
after looking me over, he decided to leave. When I went in I just had
to wake Jody and tell her all about it. I don't know to this day if she
actually believed the story, but it still cracks me up every time I
think about it.