Morgan, now ten years old is a Haflinger gelding. I've had him for five years. He is not a storybook horse. If he could read, he'd avoid Black Beauty altogether. Just wouldn't see the point. You know, he isn't the sort of horse that will save you in a thunderstorm. He's more likely to buck me off and run home to the safety of his stall, hoping that I hoof it home in time to feed him supper. And he isn't the type of horse to coddle me when I've had a rough day. Instead, he wonders why I haven't been around to give him his daily tummy scratch.

Basically, Morgan is all about himself. And I can't explain it exactly, but this extremely self-centered approach to life is somehow a comfort to me in my worst moments. Maybe the world should be as he believes, created just for comfort and happiness. Perhaps the forest we ride in really is a tasty salad created just for Morgan.

Let's not confuse this with selfishness. This is bigger. Morgan is a horse that has a Self-Center. Like a child that has not discovered the vagaries of fate and hardship, Morgan simply believes in life.

I can't explain it exactly, but that kind of self-centered thing he's got going on makes sense to me. And it's a responsibility. Every day, no matter what is happening in my life, it is up to me to keep Morgan's idea of the world intact. Hay has to keep coming. Flies have to be kept at bay. He needs a nap in the morning and a good scratch in the evening. All of this encourages me to remain an optimist. Perhaps the world really should be as Morgan imagines it to be.