by Jackie Houchin

#Bloganuary is a month of blog prompts/questons that WordPress uses to get us bloggers off to a good start in the new year.

Day 10 – “Something I was incredibly attached to, and what happened to it?”

When I was 7-9 years old (actually well into my older adulthood) I loved HORSES!  Later I owned and bred my own quarter horses, and actually established a boarding stable for over 30 years.  BUT, in those early years, living with my widow mother, I barely had enough allowance to spend on renting a horse for an hour at a local riding stable on Saturday.

So — somehow, I don’t remember where actually — I acquired a hobby horse. You know, those toy sticks with a wood or stuffed material (like mine) head, that you could climb onto, grab the “reins” and pretend you were riding a real horse.  (Remember I was 2-3rd grade!)

I would pretend that I was Joe Conway (no idea where the name came from) and my “horse” was Apache. My mom and I lived on a divided street where a railroad track ran down the middle of a raised dirt median strip. (Today, it is a lovely, grassy, and tree-studded paved bike and walking trail.)

I would ride up and down this dirt strip the distance of 4-5 houses in either direction, with my own stories playing like movies in my head. I would ride Apache hard away from or toward some danger, or meander along, perhaps even singing to my self, enjoying a ride on my best mount. (My favorite song was “The Tennesee Stud” sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford. (Wow, does that age me!)

Sometimes I would place a penny on the rail and come back after the twice-a-day train went by to find the smooth oval copper “treasure.”  I’d slip into my jeans pocket and ride smugly on.

In those days, my favorite reading was by Walter Farley, author of the Black Stallion series. Yes, I collected all of them and re-read them over and over.  Even as an adult I LOVED the movie version with Mickey Rooney and Kelly Reno. Gorgeous horse!!!!

So, what happened to Apache? I honestly can’t remember.  Probably it got ragged over the years, was stuck in the back of a closet, and either thrown or given away. Later I would take to riding the hills with my own, real-live horse, Jessica Mia.

And sometimes I would sing.