at the breeder's two summers ago, scoping out her pen of throw-aways looking for a playmate for Cody, I noticed a roan filly with a pretty trot and a dash of flash. She was half Shetland pony and half Miniature horse and was registered as both. At 6 months, she was the oldest, and biggest, foal in the pen. She was going to be big enough that kids could ride, so I wasn't concerned about her being able to find a home. My dad was talking with the breeder's husband and I noticed he kept looking the filly's way. When I told him I was buying a thin little colt instead and that the breeder would deliver him in a couple of days, Dad seemed happy enough.
"There's no reason I can't get two horses instead of just one," I told him.
"How much do they want for her?" That was Dad, ever practical.
I shrugged. I saw how much he wanted the horse so, within reason, the price didn't really matter. "I'll find out if she's still available."
She was, for $550, and the breeder would be only too happy to bring her out along with Ricky the next day.
I folded the certificate along with its empty promise and threw it into the trash.
I'm glad he died knowing he'd made his little girl's dream finally come true.