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A lesson from Toby
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
Dad and Toby got along pretty well for the most part. Even though they had their differences, they still produced some tasty vegetables together. One year they even spent Dad’s vacation damming up the creek so my brother Scott and I would have a pond to swim in.
Pretty good, considering Toby only understood four words: “Giddyup,” “Gee,” “Haw,” and “Whoa.”
As you may have guessed, Toby was a horse, and a mighty fine one, too. He was a dapple gray, slightly swayback gelding, sixteen hands tall and weighing twelve hundred pounds. Not all that big by plow horse standards, but I was perhaps ten years old when Dad got Toby from our neighbor, Red, and Toby seemed huge to a little boy.
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