Peace At Day’s End by Styzgal

Word Count 822

A short story about a cowboy and his horse. I have no knowledge or experience of horses so I hope those that do will forgive any glaring errors. Writing this gave me peace on a very difficult day.

The cowboy rode slowly through the Lancer arch, allowing his horse to cool down gently. It had been a long day but a satisfying one. Hot, but not hellishly so. Plenty to keep the man busy but not so he felt worked to a frazzle. And now he was heading home to a hot bath and a hearty dinner. A good day.

Pulling into the barn the cowboy started to care for his horse. First, he removed the thick blanket and heavy saddle. The horse seemed to shudder with pleasure.

“Yeah, you’re a good fella. That sure feels good doesn’t it?”

The horse swished his tail and nodded his head, as if to agree.

A slim shaft of sunlight shone through the slats of the barn and in it the cowboy could see there was still some steam rising from the coat of the horse. Giving the horse a little longer to cool off, the cowboy started work on the animal’s feet.

Each hoof was lifted and methodically cleaned. At one point the cowboy’s brow furrowed with a slight frown; a small pebble was lodged in amongst the dirt. The cowboy was concerned that the pebble may have damaged the delicate soft frog of the hoof. He dismissed the idea as unlikely but made a mental note to check the gait of the horse the next day, just to be sure. No way would he work with his horse if there was any bruising due to the pebble.

As the cowboy took an extra amount of time to inspect one particular hoof the horse leaned slightly into him so he had to take rather more of the horse’s weight than he was comfortable with. He chuckled good-naturedly though and said, “that’s OK amigo, you’ve carried my weight all day, now I guess I can take some of yours.”

After satisfying himself that the horse’s feet were sufficiently free of debris the cowboy pulled out a brush from the bucket that held the grooming tools and started on his (and most likely the horse’s) favourite part of the grooming ritual.

With long steady strokes the cowboy set up a soothing rhythm, brushing from the shoulder to the rump of the horse. As he did so he breathed in the smell of the heat of the day which lingered in the horse hair and also the heat from the body of the animal, which was the result of his hard day’s labour. Fresh air and grass added to the familiar scent of the horse and the cowboy smiled as he enjoyed the task.

The next task was the tail and mane, both of which were brushed and combed to perfection. The pale hair looked stunning against the golden coat and, as always, the cowboy marvelled at the beauty of it. He felt blessed to have the trust and loyalty of one of God’s most amazing creatures.

Last of all the cowboy moved to face the horse and gently brushed around the eyes and the big handsome jaw. The horse always seemed to particularly enjoy this part of the routine and his eyes half closed with pleasure.

The final job was to comb the forelock and when this was done the cowboy stood quietly with his forehead against that of his beloved animal. The horse stood completely still and shared a brief moment of bonding with his master. The cowboy murmured gentle words and felt the peace of being as one with this magnificent beast.

The job was done and both the cowboy and the horse were calmed and soothed by the familiar routine.

Johnny put away the grooming tools, gave Barranca a pat, closed the stall then strode towards the barn door. He was looking forward to a quick belt of tequila before cleaning up for dinner.

Without turning around, he shouted out, “hey brother! Are ya gonna stay skulking back there in Remmie’s stall all day or are ya comin’ in?”

Scott exited the stall and laughed. “I didn’t even breathe. How did you know I was there?”

With a wicked grin Johnny replied, “my horse told me.”

And for a moment Scott believed him.

End

April 2021

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