In which I take a Sentimental Journey, and set my heart at ease

Years ago, a fellow horse-person opined that a person's horse preference was strongly influenced by the first horse book that s/he REALLY connected with as a reader.  She, herself, was a life-long lover of Arabian horses, and as a kid had pretty much read the covers off of The Black Stallion and King of the Wind (much like many readers of this blog, I suspect).

Me, I read anything to do with the Pony Express, the Wild West, and any other excuse that  authors could write about that put a rider in the saddle all day long (and all night, as well).  I read everything by Walter Farley and Marguerite Henry, Sam Savitt, Glen Balch,

as well as some remarkably obscure books and authors. 

This book, in particular, caught my attention and held it for several years:

 

I have no idea where my copy originated (a garage sale, I suspect), or where it went when I moved away for college (another garage sale seems likely), but I couldn't possibly forget a book that I had read 10 times or more as a kid.  

Recently, I saw a copy of my old friend the book for sale on amazon.com for super-cheap.  I bought it.

But, could the story possibly be as wonderful as I remembered?

Well, no.   And yet, yes.

The basic plot was implausible to the point of flat-out-impossible: 

A newborn foal is christened a "weak-kneed sister" by the vet, because her legs are too twisted to support her weight and allow the filly to stand and suckle.  Normally, a foal like this would be shot, but the last-second pleading of Jimmy, son of the mare's owner, grants her a reprieve.  Jimmy is a cripple (hey, it was published in 1928; they didn't call polio survivors "handicap-able" then!).  Jimmy pledges to raise the foal himself, and does.  After many weeks of physical therapy administered by Jimmy and the stable hands, the foal finally stands on her own.   

At this point, adult readers are wondering why the foal didn't die of pneumonia in the first three days, or how gut motility was able to function in a long-term recumbency.   Yeah, I know.  But at age 10 when I first read the book, I didn't know about stuff like that.  It just made for a good story!

Within a year, the filly is walking and running on her own, so they break her to harness and let her pull the wagon home.

"Long-term soundness issues resulting from early work on an immature skeletal system!"  I hear you all thinking.   And yet, at age 10, it made perfect sense to me.

There are other difficulties to overcome, and of course there are many exciting races as well.  Eventually, Jimmy, aided by his now-strong, now-fast, and always-beautiful standardbred mare, becomes strong enough to overcome them all...until the penultimate tragic chapter.

I won't give away the ending, just in case you want to read it.  Selected chapters are available through Google Books at the link HERE, and there are usually copies for sale pretty cheaply on amazon.com.   

Suffice to say, however, that although I didn't cry buckets, I did sniffle a bit.

So what about my friend's statement, that the books we read as kids shape our horse-lives as adults?  Well, you could certainly make a case that the fictional harness-racing horse in my favorite childhood book influenced my breed of choice in my adult real life.

What about you, Gentle Readers?  Does your horse life now reflect your favorite books then?

And hey:  does anybody have some good horse stories for adults to recommend?  I need a good one to read!