A story about horses, part one

            I remember the first time I rode a horse all by myself. I was four years old. I had been sitting on horses since before I could walk, but always with a grown-up right there to catch me. I had never been afraid of a horse, and it did not occur to me until years later that anyone could ever fear horses, or what a horse could do to a child. 
            The first time I rode a horse all by myself, it was night time in the summer. Mark, the palomino gelding I had always known and who was truly my first horse, was munching away at his grain in his stall. I was sitting on his back, rubbing his shoulders and just generally feeling calm and happy. I was warm, I was comfortable, and I felt love for Mark and love from Mark. My parents were outside the stall, in the barn aisle, tending to the other horses. 
             A fox began to bark out in the woods. Mark never did like to be shut in a stall, so the outside door of his was left open. My parents never thought he would leave at dinner time, but that fox made him really curious. He lifted up his head and looked past me over his shoulder. I could feel him thinking, "What's that?" 
            Mark turned around, still slowly munching a mouthful of grain. He swiveled his ears back and forth and peered out into the darkness. I sat up and looked, too. Then he shifted his weight forward, and on we went out into the night to see what the fox was doing. I knew just what to do. I sat up, looking forward, and gathered his long white mane into my hands. I remember feeling peaceful and curious, and not at all afraid. Mark stepped out at a walk, but upon leaving the confines of the stall moved into a gentle trot. I held on, comfortable and unperturbed. It was fun, and I laughed. Mark would take care of me, and we would have a little adventure.
            My parents were alarmed. They shouted, but not too loudly for fear of spooking the horse, "Whoa! Whoa! Hang on, we're coming to get you!" I did not understand. Why were they coming to get me? Mark and I were doing great. We were going to see the fox.
            Dad came out through the stall, and jogged after us. But Mark and I paid him no mind. We trotted over to the fence and stopped, looking out into the trees. We could not see the fox, but that was all right. We were just curious, anyway. Dad came up next to Mark and reached up, pulling me down into his arms.
            "It's all right, I've got you," he said. I said, "You didn't need to. I was fine."