I pretty much knew as soon as I walked up to the sabino gelding that he would be going home with us. It wasn’t that he indeed looked very much like the pictures Shelley had posted on Craigslist but that certainly didn’t hurt. As I reached to pet his head, he didn’t jerk away. He just stood there, letting me rub the side of his face, under his chin, between his ears. I stood beside him, and patted the opposite side of his neck as I pressed my face lightly against the side of his muzzle. He just stood there, calm and gentle.

I couldn’t help thinking of that line from Jerry Maguire: “You had me at hello.”

Of course, Randa and I still went ahead and rode him and went back three days later to bring the Tennessee Walker/Missouri Foxhound cross home with us. On the way home, I thought I might name him “Moses” because he seemed so meek. But I figured everyone else would think, “That’s a dumb name for a horse,” so I kept it to myself.

With his distinctive gray and white coloring and gorgeous long mane, we tried to think of names that matched his looks: Shadow, Cloud, Stardust (yeah, I know…), Silver, Moonglow, Puzzle, Jigsaw and on and on. One or two of them sounded like they’d work until I stood out by the corral and actually tried them out on him.

After a week with no success, Randa finally had an inspiration. “Why don’t we quit trying to name him after his looks and name him after his personality?” She asked or suggested. Well, actually, it was both, a suggestion in the form of a question, which seems more polite. “He’s so gentle and meek, why don’t you call him ‘Moses?’”

Now friends, I’m not going to suggest that God helped us name our horse but I will tell you that when Randa said that, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Whether there was some supernatural sharing or not, I’ll leave alone.

But I will say that something like that ain’t entirely common, either. And that right there is reason enough to be grateful for such.

H. Arnett

6/1/11