And Frey? He stopped munching and paused to watch them. He seemed fascinated by the two little boys, and his ears did a dance, while his head swung so he could keep an eye on them as they darted around the yard. Of course, I cautioned the boys not to get close to the stallion’s rear end. Everyone needs to know that horses don’t see well, and when something comes up behind them, their instincts tell them to kick out because it might be a cougar (or a goat nibbling at his tail.) But Frey didn’t seem skittish about their activity. I think he enjoyed watching them.
I put elbow grease into my brushing of the stallion. He really, really needed it. Dirt and old hair went flying every which way. Soon, I’d have a pile on the ground. The boys stopped to watch me for a few minutes, but then they resumed their chasing each other around the yard. Had I once had that much energy? Sometimes, watching the two younglings made me feel old.
After the two of them tired of playing tag, Frances started tossing the gray ball the officer had given them, while Carlo tried to catch it, but the little guy missed every time. He didn’t seem to have much of an eye for hand awareness, but I figured that was only due to his age. Were other four years old able to catch a ball? Carlo was a good sport about not catching the ball, though. He just laughed and ran to fetch i each time.
I tried to remember if the children I’d worked with back in the village could do such things at his age. I was pretty sure, as I thought back to how we’d played ball games in the town’s grassy strip of the village circle that they could. I thought I remembered even the three-year-olds being able to catch a ball as big as this one. But maybe Carlo had just never had the opportunity to practice such things? Had the boys ever played toss with a ball before coming here?