By: Courtney Tripp

“Mother, what have you done?” I demanded as I gazed at his bold figure.

He was nothing like what I wanted. He was too big and too dark. His legs were too thick, and he had huge ears and feet. I slowly shuffled in to say hi. He surveyed me intently, and when I held out my palm, he kissed it.

I played with him. We nudged, cuddled and chased each other. His curious, expressive brown eyes focused on me.

[private]“He loves you already,” Mom suggested. “He hasn’t reacted like that to any of the other people he has met.”

True, he did seem determined to win my love and affection, but that would be an uphill battle. He was not Bailey and that seemed a fatal flaw.

I petted my new horse, Duke, goodbye and left with my mom, reassuring her that I did like Duke and would grow to love him.

My first horse, Bailey, embodied perfection. I fell in love with him instantly. Our souls overlapped. We always understood what the other was thinking and feeling. He knew to kiss me when I was sad or playfully tug at my hair when I was happy. I still miss my big red horse.

I will never call Duke a replacement for Bailey. There will never be a replacement for my first love. Duke was simply my second love and my best friend through a time of healing.

After our first meeting, I rode Duke daily, but we could not find common ground. His energy would soar, then the next day he would be sluggish.

Finally one night, I had had enough. Duke was rambunctious and now refused to come over and kiss me goodbye. I clenched my teeth. “You are not Bailey,” I muttered through a patch of tears. He wiggled his thick lips through the bars toward me, but I left, broken hearted.

Slowly my words began to sink in – he was not Bailey. I started to see him for being Duke.

So, I allowed him do his silly horse trick by asking him if he was a good boy. He would nod his head “yes.” I played with him more and taught him to give more kisses. He even figured out how to unzip my zipper.

Everyone started to fall for Duke, even the stable hands.
One day, Duke demonstrated to me what a great sense of humor he has. As the stable hand walked by Duke’s stall, Duke stretched his giraffe-like neck out, placed his lips around the worker’s hat and flung it down the aisle. I fought back laughter as I closed Duke’s window.

“Bad Dukie,” I started, but he caught my eyes. His bright eyes smiled; he was proud of himself. He seemed to be laughing at his joke. I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

As I brushed and saddled him, I turned my back on the prankster again. He then pushed the same stable hand down the aisle with his long snout.

“Duke,” I reprimanded him sternly. This time my mother encouraged the discipline, but I soon gave up. Duke won. I laughed again at my goofy boy and my heart warmed.

We bonded so well in and out of the show ring that we qualified for regional competition.

Leaving to go back to school finally made me realize I loved Duke. I cried when I left him. I returned for regionals, and we finished in the top half of our class. But when I was walking Duke, a rude truck driver buzzed past us. Startled, Duke leapt toward me.

“Hold me mom,” he seemed to say as his hoof crushed my foot, spraining my ankle. But I didn’t mind. He was looking for comfort. I now knew what Duke was thinking.

However, life was not perfect. Just before that competition, my boyfriend broke my heart. Duke guided my healing. He taught me to love a second time. As I healed from the break up, another love arose in the one place I refused to look.

My best friend, Derek, had been there for me since the beginning of college. We drove home from break together, hung out and talked about everything.

We had an understanding, but a metamorphosis began as we drove back to school after Thanksgiving. I could feel a new, unfamiliar tension and wanted to clear the air, so I blurted it out.
“Derek, how do you feel about me?”

“Well, I like you a lot,” he said. His voice shook.

“I like chocolate a lot. I like horses a lot…” I spouted, exasperated. “I mean, how do you like me?”

“I think I might like to date you,” he sighed. “I like you as more than a friend.”

So there it was. Derek had laid it out there, but I was lost. My ex and I broke up in late August and my silly heart remained there. My ex was my first love beyond my horses. My notion of one perfect love at first sight was fading.

I agreed to give Derek a chance but he was not my ex, and the constant reminders of that first love drove me crazy. After one date I broke up with Derek, just before Christmas break. We drove home, and I retreated to the stable to ride my loving horse.

Much like with Duke, Derek’s constant support, fantastic personality and great sense of humor began to win me over. We went out over break. He even visited the barn to watch me with Duke. Derek greeted the horses with a casual, “What’s up horse?” I laughed at him.

Finally, one day as we stood in my room I cleared my mind of all the worries and memories. With Duke it had been his hat trick, with Derek it was a hug. As he hugged me my soul sighed and everything melted away. I saw Derek for the first time. I just muttered, “wow.” In that instant I found a second love for the second time. That was seven blissful months ago.[/private]