The Homer Story by Emma Lytle

Hey guys! I wrote this story a long time ago, and I thought I’d publish it (:

Homer (written months ago)

Hello, my name is Emma. I am 13 years old. This may seem like a long story, but please continue reading. He deserves it. Recently I have been volunteering at a little family owned ranch to get hours for njhs (national junior honors society), and there’s something unique about this ranch. They do what is called ‘equestrian therapy’ for kids with special needs such as autism, or down syndrome. But, the kids aren’t the only ones being rescued. Ms. Judy rescued the horses, too. Katrina rescues, unwanted race horses, and cowboy party horses. Recently though, we’ve gotten a new recruit that has touched my heart deeply.

One day, Ms. Judy was at the horse market buying feed and supplies and fly spray, and just the basic necessities needed for a farm. An old friend who breeds cattle walks up to her, and asks her if she could use another horse. Saying that she already has enough mouths to feed, he nods and walks away. A couple months later, he meets her again and begins talking about a bull. This bull had been bottle fed as a baby, and grew up in a pen with a horse named Homer. Every time he tried to sell the bull, Homer freaked out and he had to buy back the bull. The only option he saw anymore, was if Homer didn’t get a new home, he’d have to put him down. Ms. Judy laughed at this. ‘Why are you telling me this? Get somebody to take him. He’s a beautiful horse!’ That’s when the man frowned. Homer was blind.

Last Saturday I arrived at the ranch ready to tack the horses and help the kids, but on the way down the trail I heard a whiniey. Looking up, I was a horse with yellowing eyes that resembled a marble, and when I gasped the horse tilted his head, staring blankly past me, yet right through me. He was a tall, broad, lengthy appaloosa with a white spotted roan coat and a white star in between his eyes. One of the most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen, yet so sensitive and broken down. You see, Homer had apparently been a cowboy pleasure ride horse, until he began to get a cataract in one eye. After that eye went out, it spread to the other, turning it completely bellowed out. This is amazingly treatable by equine vets, but for both eyes it’d cost an approximate sum of 8000 dollars. Or maybe even more.

Right now, you’re probably thinking ‘so what. It’s just a stupid horse. What’s one less sense. It can’t be that hard. ’ but, humor me for a moment. Imagine being the most popular one at school. Being flawless, perfect, strong, and irristable. One night, after taking a shower, you laid down for bed. When you woke up in the morning, everything was black. You blink multiple times but you can’t see. You feel for the covers, and fall out of bed. You slam into a wall; into everything. Until eventually you break down on the floor, crying. And suddenly, you lose everything.

Homer isn’t helpless. He’s one of those horses that the moment he sees- hears, is more like it- you, he rubs his muzzle on your chest, and blows hot air in your face. The one that you can lay under during a hot summer day, and talk to like he’s your best friend. And Homer is a best friend to me. Him, and my other sweet horse, Glory.

Well, today Ms. Judy told me to put a halter on him, and get him out of the pen. I gulped. Here we go. His halter is a vibrant red, and his lead rope is a satin blue. The brighter the colors, the easier the shadow is to see, I suppose. I kissed at him, and cooed his name. He turned to me with a tilted head, and I slid the halter on. As I began leading him, he leaned his head into me, like an old lady would steady herself by holding your arm when she tries to walk without her cane. I tied him the the tree, and he began whining, flickering his tail and nervously eating all the clovers in sight. I sighed. Only Homer.

Ms. Judy then told me to tack Princess for a ride. And all the other horses were getting tacked as well by the other volunteers. Homer’s head shot up as he listened to the bits and bridals and cinches being tightened, and I saw a sense of wanting in his blank eyes. With a heavy heart, I grabbed a curry brush, and a handful of hay. I approached him, feeding him the hay out of my hand and brushed all of the dirt out of his coat, seeing it for a beautiful red and white, instead of a yellowing creamy color. He looked at me, and I kissed him on the nose, and all of a sudden he sneezed and wiped his face on my favorite sweater, covering the sleeves with a swipe of mud and blood from the scabs of slamming into trees. I laughed and lightly wrestled his nose. I heard a slight ‘hm.. ’ from behind me, and I jumped, turning to see Ms.Judy. she smiled at me, and suddenly her expression changed. ‘You should get on him bareback and let me lead you. ’ my eyes flickered to the blind horse, and I patted his flank. One day I would ride him, but not today.(boy was I right)

Get Homer his eyes back. This horse deserves them. But, that’s a long shot. A big dream. So I need you to pray for him. I need you to pray that he gets courage. That he settles down, and gets the confidence he needs. Because if he doesn’t get this, he’ll be stuck with them, and he needs to show that being blind doesn’t mean nothing is impossible. I’m going to continue working with this amazing animal, and he’s going to show the kids that if he can ride with no sight, they can get through life with their disabilities. Homer has touched my heart. And I hope he touched yours.

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