Hello Mark! How are things in the big city? Is that big, fancy-schmancy job working out all right? I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, your Dad and I are just so gosh-be-durned proud of you, son. We know you’re going to be the most famous hotshot lawyer that’s ever come out of our fair little town! Speaking of which, it’s been hot as heck back home, and mayfly season started so darned early this year!
Anyway, I’m really writing to talk to you about that Father’s Day gift you got your Dad. It’s not that Marty didn’t want a horse, or anything like that, but you know how your father is. I know you two were driving past the old Johnson farm and Marty made you pull over so he could go “look those majestic beasts right in the eye”, and then you told me how your Dad started tearing up, right there on the side of the road! I remember how he’s always saying that “there’s no creature on God’s green earth nobler than a horse”. Oh, Mark, you remember how I gave him heck that time he got drunk on New Year’s and told you that he “sometimes wished you’d been born a horse, son”.
I know you meant well, and I agree, a horse must’ve seemed like a perfect gift for Marty. Right from the start, he and Colonel Steadman (Marty’s name for him) were inseparable. Marty and the Colonel went everywhere together: the bar, shopping, the town fair… I must admit, I was getting a little jealous! The Colonel seemed perfect for your Dad: ever since the plant laid him off for the summer, he’s needed someone to talk to, I think. Not that it was all wine and roses, though. Far from it. We had a big fight after Marty sold the Toyota… “Whadda we need a car for when we got a g**d*** horse, Lisa!”
I’ll never forget the tears in Marty’s eyes after the horse had to go to the vet because Marty rode him through the carwash. What a day that was! At least the two of them were clean as a whistle, LOLE! (I’m new at this E-Mail thing!)
I think the trouble started when Marty had that poker game last week, and the Colonel showed a real talent for bluffing. Before he knew it, Marty had lost three weeks pay to that damn horse! Your dad’s friends were laughing and joking with the Colonel, and Marty just stormed off in a huff. Before you knew it, your dad’s friends were calling the house to talk to the horse, asking him out to the ballgame, or to the bar. Your dad’s friend Walt Muggins (you remember him, the one who punched the hole in our rec room wall) got drunk with the Colonel a few nights ago and broke into the town fairgrounds. When your dad went to the police station the next morning to pick them up, that darn horse was sittin’ there cool-as-a-how-d’you-do!
I know it’s only been a few days, but I’m sorry to say that horse just sits in the corner, gathering dust. Your dad won’t have anything to do with horses any more. If the subject even comes up he just grumbles and changes the subject to rabbits, his new fixation. “Ain’t no nobler animal than a rabbit”, he says now…
Anyhow, I guess this e-mail’s gone on long enough, we’ll see you on the long weekend dear!
