“…If you can ! That’s what Honey Boy seemed to say as I tried to catch his halter with my right hand, jolting just out of my reach while nibbling oats from the bucket in my left hand. He would then galop like mad in the meadow, full of the energy of his ancestral wildness, the ease and maste- ry that permeated from him and which he paraded before me. He had no idea that the bewitching beauty with which he challenged me was, in fact, his gift to me.
I cherished it above everything else. Would his last joke on me be to let himself be caught, thereby pre-empting me one more time? I didn’t let anything appear and stomped my foot to indicate the stable door hence prolonging this superb moment of his play and my pleasure.”