Dream Wheels
“He ran low to the ground, his nose skimming the grass, ears flat against his head, tail straight out behind him like a rudder, back paws kicking up tufts of dust so that even in his stealth the flushing of rabbits from the brush took on the illusion of speed. When a hare bolted the dog gave a short burst of pursuit, then idled back into the low prowl again. The man admired the old sheepdog’s determination even though time had erased the speed and agility of its youth. The twenty yards or so of ...chase was all the dog could manage now, but fourteen years would do that to a dog.
The man wouldn’t mind a smidgen of that exuberance himself if he could get it. It was the best he could do sometimes to saddle up the old buckskin mare and take his evening ride. Old. Geezer. Coot. Funny how when you arrived at that marker, when you finally, irrevocably qualified for it, everything in your life arrived there with you. Old dog, old horse, old saddle. He laughed to himself. Eighty-four and he could still ride, still saddle his own mount, still muck out the stall and never suffer any ache.MoreLess
The man wouldn’t mind a smidgen of that exuberance himself if he could get it. It was the best he could do sometimes to saddle up the old buckskin mare and take his evening ride. Old. Geezer. Coot. Funny how when you arrived at that marker, when you finally, irrevocably qualified for it, everything in your life arrived there with you. Old dog, old horse, old saddle. He laughed to himself. Eighty-four and he could still ride, still saddle his own mount, still muck out the stall and never suffer any ache.MoreLess
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