Talon's Graduation

Grandson Nate in the driver's seat!

Cue the Pomp and Circumstance—Talon graduated from driving school today! That’s right, my big, beautiful, occasionally dramatic Gypsy Cob is now a certified, bonafide cart horse. He even got a diploma to prove it. (No tassel to turn, though he did try to eat it.)

Let me tell you, it wasn’t always smooth trotting. There were early days when he thought a bit was a medieval torture device, a harness was a straightjacket, and fly spray was a government conspiracy. But thanks to our trainer, who I now suspect is equal parts horse whisperer and saint, he’s blossomed into a fine, respectable young gentleman with hooves. She deserves a medal. Or a vacation. Or both.

Now that he's a graduate, we're ready to hit the trail—literally. And the timing couldn’t be better. We’ve still got some crisp, gorgeous fall days ahead before everything freezes solid and I lose all feeling in my extremities. I'm already eyeing sleigh runners for the cart, because nothing says “rural magic” like jingling down a snow-covered lane behind a puffball of a horse who looks like he stepped out of a Victorian Christmas card.

Honestly, I can't wait to see what adventures lie ahead. Romantic woodland drives? Yes. Festive parades? You betcha. Getting stuck in a snowbank while Talon tries to flirt with a moose? Very likely.

But no matter what, I’ll be out there with my proud-mama smile, yelling “Look at my boy go!” to anyone within earshot, or at least to the chickens and goats. They’re very supportive.

Here’s to the graduate—Talon, Class of Awesome.

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