When I was a very young girl our mare, Kate, had a colt that we named Barney. Barney was kept in the corral and became a great pet especially for me. While mama and daddy milked each evening, I used the curry comb that daddy always kept on top of a ledge in the milk shed to curry Barney’s coat of hair. He had Brindle colored hair with a white painted face and boots. We kids played with him from his day of birth on up to being an adult horse. He tamed easily, so he was never afraid of us. Kate trusted us with him too. As he aged, Barney’s long gawky long legs looked oversized to me, but I surely loved that colt no matter what he looked like. He so enjoyed each stroke I gave him and sidled closer and moved around as if to say “brush me more to the left”. When I tired of brushing him, he would still follow me around pleading for more. I am sure the winter coat of hair that needed to be shed, made his skin itch. Daddy used to let Barney go to the field with Kate, Tom and Bill and ran beside his mother as long as he was in the field. He would prance around playfully and catch up with her soon after. Kate became old and died one day in the field. What a sad day for all of us. Soon after Kate died, Daddy and Mama purchased an old lug wheeled tractor from the Siler’s east of Cherokee and decided to let the horses be sold. I remember how sad I was to see them go. We stood in the yard and watched as they were hauled away in a horse trailer. Mama was in tears and very upset. She mumbled something about them being sold to a glue factory. I am glad I did not know what she really meant.

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Created December 21, 2020

Updated: 14 June, 2021

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