In my book, there is no more noble creature on God’s green earth than the horse. All they ask for is some hay and a decent pair of shoes, maybe a carrot now and then, and in return you’re rewarded with a friend that will never shoot you a cross-eyed look. I rode my first one when I joined the cavalry back in 1915, when I was but a wee lad of 15 years old, and well – let’s just say that something clicked. Life just looks different from on top of a horse. When a fella plops his keyster on a saddle, he feels like he can do just about anything.
One of my favorite horses was a beaut’ named Sophie I took care of back during the Korean frackas. I had to leave her behind when things wound down over there, and I often wondered what became of her. I figure she was either hitched to a plow for the rest of her life or immediately turned into a stew. Who knows.
Here’s a dusty old snapshot of me painting of picture of Sophie with a retired old Korean general sitting on her. I gave the painting to the general’s family so that they could hang it in a place of honor in their hut. For all I know, the painting may have been cut up and turned into a stew as well. Korean folk are a proud people with a rich heritage, but it's been my experience that they'll eat just about anything they can get their mitts on.
And here’s a close-up I painted of her. I’m no Picasso, but I have my moments.