Here we are, lying in the hammock, out on the porch this fine June night. With not too much demand on the old imagination, I hear a horse chewing, grinding the dry grass between his jaws. And it’s not that he’s chewing cud, horses do not have cuds. Something to do with not having two sections of stomach. Or something.
I probably need to explain why our horses were ‘he’ and not ‘she’. Easy enough. Most of our stock were drawn from gelded ex-racehorses. They were so chosen because of tractability - a trait developed due to Not having balls. Go figure that one. Anyway, what I had in mind to say - the reason I’m not actually in bed, has to do with caring for animals. Some people say, folks who have empathy with animals are better people. I cannot endorse the saying as grounded in fact, but I will attest, people who treat animals well, are easier to be around.
Today on the beach you demonstrated a fine future trait, one that I hope holds as time plots to chisel away your finer instincts. You witnessed the new dog Tripod, chasing behind an extremely frightened boy. He might have been six years old, or about four years older than you. Youngster took to the sea - and the safety of his family but dropped a bag of his toys in the process. You, my dear grandson, simply picked up his toys and the plastic bag he had them in, followed him into the shallow water, and gave them to him.
What you witnessed after; his father grabbing him, throwing him onto the sand and shouting to his face
“You aren’t a girl!”
or words to that effect, must have been perplexing. I can break down the dad’s reaction some, caveat being I’m no psychologist, merely an ex-farmer, fisher and friend of the sea.
Daddy was pissed that his son, bearer of birthright and potential carrier of future seeds of that particular strain of African manhood, was frightened to death of a three-legged puppy. He was also, to top it off, not proud to see a two year old, barely walking, demonstrating some very caring qualities. Qualities he himself showed amazing lack of, when he tumbled that child, his own blood and bone, to the ground. What he did not care for, and it was so immediately apparent, was the boy’s lack of trust in him, the father figure of the moment.
In the end, it worked out - some. You were able to invite him on to the lilypad, giving him, another child and yourself, a rather fun afternoon. As triumphs go, today was a big one. You showed style, composure and generosity. You also may not remember it. Which is fine, the best deeds go unrecognised, no fuss.