What’s There, Tonka?

By Terry Golson


All of the horses were in their stalls, eating their late afternoon hay. All but Tonka.

 

He was looking out. With his panoramic vision, Tonka could see the whole sweep of the property, all the way from the barn on one side to the field on the other. His ears, though, pointed this way.

 

He was very interested in something. Enough to stop chewing. But not afraid. His lower lip still hung loose.

 

I joined him. We both looked.

 

I didn’t see anything. Maybe there was a movement that I missed. Or a sound. Or a smell. Tonka leaned in to discuss it with me. That didn’t help me know what had grabbed his attention. He fogged up my glasses.

 

Despite my ignorant take on the situation, I like to think that he liked my company and the conversation. I left him to it. He watched for a few minutes more.

Then Tonka went inside for his hay. I still don’t know what he knew.


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