The Toy Horse

For Christmas 2004, Jason received a plush toy horse that was just the right size for a young boy to climb on and ride.

Oddly enough, we never named the horse. That was a little surprising because where I grew up in Wyoming, every horse had a name. But around our house, there was only one horse, so we simply called him the horse.

Jason, the horse's original owner,
dressed for a day on the range
shortly after receiving him
for Christmas.

The horse started out as Jason's Christmas present, but it didn't stay Jason's horse for very long. Every one of our kids loved him. The older kids quickly became too big to ride, but from Jason on down, the horse became one of the most popular toys in the house.

The horse usually lived in the playroom, but he was never one to stay in the same pasture for long. Depending on the day's adventure, he could be found in a bedroom, the loft, the game room, the kitchen, or just about anywhere else he was needed. Any young visitor who came to our house usually ended up taking a turn riding him too.

Truman, Ashton, and Jason.
It didn't take long before the horse
belonged to everyone instead of just Jason.

That horse logged about a million imaginary miles.

Growing up on a ranch in Wyoming, I spent plenty of time around horses. They carried riders, gathered cattle, pulled equipment, and put in long days of hard work. This little plush horse wasn't nearly as big or as strong as those ranch horses, but he worked just as hard.

The horse became whatever the kids needed him to be. Sometimes he was a trusty saddle horse. Other times he was a work horse hauling important cargo. He even pulled covered wagons across the western frontier.

One of the kids' favorite inventions was figuring out how to make the horse long enough for three riders. They would push the rocking chair slide up behind him, extending his back just enough for everyone to squeeze on. It probably didn't make much sense to adults, but it made perfect sense to them.

Truman, Ashton, and Jason.
The rocking chair slide became
an extension of the horse
so all three boys could ride together.

As the years passed, the horse showed every mile he had traveled.

Eventually the bottoms of his feet wore completely through, exposing the metal frame inside his legs. I cut out pieces of leather, stitched new bottoms onto his hooves, and proudly announced that I had reshod the horse.

Ashton rode inside a covered wagon
while Allyn and Jason watched over the journey.
The horse spent just as much time
pulling wagons as he did carrying riders.

Over the years, the stuffing began packing down, and the stitching under his chin finally gave way. He was in serious danger of becoming the Headless Horse. So we restuffed him, stitched him back together, and sent him back out to work.

Even after years of hard use and a couple of repairs, the horse still had plenty of life left in him.

By 2008, the old horse had already
logged countless imaginary miles,
but Ashton was still riding him at full speed.

Eventually, though, our kids did what all kids do. They grew up.

The horse spent a few quiet years in the attic before it was finally time to put him out to pasture. Technically, that meant setting him out at the curb on big trash day, but that's not how I like to remember it. Around our house, we'd rather think he simply retired after years of faithful service.

Some toys come and go without leaving much of a memory.

The horse wasn't one of them.

He carried every one of our younger kids, entertained countless friends who visited our home, survived emergency surgery more than once, and faithfully served our family for years. Looking back now, I can't help but smile every time I see these pictures.

Few horses have ever earned their retirement more.