this is my recollection of an actual horse, an Appaloosa stallion out in the farmland about 25 minut3s from our home in New Providence, NJ, where I grew up until I was 16.
only the owner of the place, “Alibi Acres,” named afer the stallion, Alibi, was allowed to handle him. He kept the upper door locked, looking back I guess it was because Alibi bit passersby. Rather than that being the reason he bit people.
anyway Mr. C. rode him once in a while and it was spellbinding. Other times he was walked on the mechanical walker or put out to the back pasture on his own.
those who aren’t familiar with the breed will like the picture. I used to draw a lot better; this time I did as well as I could.
the point is that my riding there was an alibi for my parents. I wasn’t growing up right–now we all know why. Back then my condition and behavior in public was a real threat to my parents, even with their friends. .
the riding deal was out of sight and made everything look good. It felt okay but not good, nothing ever felt good, of course I was grateful for it, it was the greatest thing in my life. I had a Canadian female friend there. We got up to all kinds of hi jinx. But I went away to school and she moved back to Canada as I understand it and we lost touch. It was a sad ending for me.
SUE HOPKINS
Un.Bon.Mot 