Sunday, November 15, 2009
Little Red Corvette
Sweeping my porch the other day I heard the rythmic clip-clop of an Amish horse on the move down our country road. I looked up in time to see the flashiest carriage horse I have ever seen these "Plain" people hitch to a buggy. He was a well-bred Standardbred of a brilliant chestnut red. His tail was a banner carried high above his back. His head was held regally in the air. His knees and hocks reached new heights as he trotted past. He was a breath-taking piece of horseflesh though the inhabitants of the carriage were doing their best to appear unimpressed behind the wheels of their Corvette.
I imagined the conversation that must take place in their household when the teenage son wants to take The Red out for a spin.
Son: Pa, can I take The Red out toight?
Pa: No, son. He's not for you.
Son: But Pa, pleeaaasssse. Just for tonight.
Pa: No. He's too much horse for you. You take the old Morgan.
Son: The Morgan?! I'd die of embarassment to be seen out with that old thing. Why can't I take The Red?
Ma: Eli, let Jacob take The Red. You know how he feels about that girl Sarah.
Pa: (with a twinkle in his eye as he looks at Ma) Weeeellllll. Maybe just for tonight. But if I hear from one of the Elders that you were speeding, you'll be washing and oiling harnesses for a solid month, do you hear me young man?