We can drive home
with one headlight
I like this lady. I like the way she nuzzles my neck. I can’t help but giggle slightly despite what’s happened as I lean into her soft muzzle. She’s warm and smells of flowers. I really hope she’s my mom. I can’t remember being touched before although it must have happened, someone had cleaned her off and let her suckle in the dark. Unfortunately it wasn’t this mare who says she’s not my mom but could be. This doesn’t make sense to me and I look up at her with a tilt of my head. As far as I’m concerned, that basically means your Mom. ”Of course I want to go Mom, please don’t leave me behind again.”
Struggling to stand up, I finally succeed. Now Mom will see that I’m smaller than the average foal, that I’m not going to grow up to be very tall. Bottlebrush tail whirls excitedly as I stumble into her side, bumping my head underneath her and searching for something to eat. I’m very disappointed when there’s no milk to be had and even more confused than before. Mom might think I’m a runt, others might think I wasn’t meant to live. But I am. I’m a star child, just a miniature one. But I'll never grow at all if I don't get to eat.
My pretty painted one eyed Mom asks if I want a name. My hunger is briefly forgotten as I lean into her forelegs and look up at her with a smile. ”What’s my name!?” Of course I want a name, how can I go through life without one? Then I’ll be susceptible to cruel jokes and laughter as they tease the short girl with no name. No, please Mom. Tell me my name!