Paul took me to a nighted barn to show me his horse, knowing that I am terrified of four-legged giants. He explained, “I am very fortunate to have been given such a fine horse, the finest horse I have ever owned. The lights come on gradually so that she can adjust. The family of our employee lives upstairs. As you can see, he is worthless in terms of security, does not even know we are here.”

The horse is so broad! Paul mounts her, as, being an Injun, he rides her bareback.

“This is a Morgan horse, the horse that conquered America. The progenitor was 850 pounds. This mare is the average at 950 pounds. In terms of strength, they can do the work of a 1600 pound horse of other breeds. They are used for draft and riding, making an excellent cavalry horse. They are unfortunately going extinct.”

As he sits her, looking at me, she ducks her head for me to touch her mane, which I find coarse.

“I imagine, with her to aid you, I am one troubled infantryman.”

“Recently, in our saber training, the horses have been getting into it, barring their teeth and wanting to fight, though we do not let them. She is a classical horse. This is the same carriage, head held high, you see in the horses of Xenophon’s era. Alexander’s Bucephalus was such a horse. You can see it in the ancient depictions—and so did Alexander ride bareback hunting, and perhaps with a blanket in battle. No saddle was necessary, for such horsemen riding such a horse—see how I am couched in her back.”

The fine horse was fed hay and salt and left in her open stall. As the first light snow gathered, Paul finished shoeing the local horses for work in the storm…

“The ancient horses were not shod. They were trained on alternating stone, sand and steel surfaces to toughen their hooves, just as Sean might toughen his feet and shins for kicking.”

In the kitchen this morning, cooking sausage, Paul said,

“Do you like sausage, sir?”

“Yes, the pig and I get along fine, so long as I am the one dining.”

“Yes, pigs are highly intelligent and weird. They are not too aggressive unless they have the piglets around. Once, I was following my dog, crawling through some thick brush. Then, I see his face instead of his tail. He had run into a nest of pigs. They circled up around their young. They were too much for a single dog, and so long as they stay in the brush, the man cannot shoot them. They know when you are armed—are very aware. It is strange that a penned pig is so different than a wild one, that the very same animal will take on a different form in the wild.”

James wonders, “I have thought, that perhaps the werewolf legend might have something to do with transposing the feral transformation of a pig into a boar onto a man?”

Paul continues,

“It is true that that a pig grows little hair so long it is in its mud wallow. But in the wild, it grows hair and tusks and pursues a course of life nearly as active as that of a dear. They will disembowel a dog. Nowadays you can take the dog to a vet and have them stitched. In the old days, that was the end of the dog.”

“How do horses relate to big cats?”

“Oh, terrified. Though, I had one brave horse, boss horse of 13 other horses, and the boss of the other little horses when I bought her. She and I once chased a cougar we caught out in open country. She was fearless. We pursued that cat until it made the safety of the trees where it could adopt its form of maneuver. Once, a lama attacked us—you know lamas are bullies. Very aggressive animals, they are kept to guard sheep, and even cattle. They will attack wolves, coyotes and cats up to 200 pounds. My horse was having none of it, slicked her ears back, ready to fight, and the lama went elsewhere.

“People think of horses as prey animals. But they were once predators. As cavalry horses, they were bred to attack other horses as well as men on foot; to bite and trample. With the passing of cavalry, that aggression has been bred out of them. It does not take long to breed something out. But some horses retain that bravery, that noble character.”

“Lamas?”

“I will not work on lamas. The people with the cave, they have lamas, want me to trim their claws. They have claws you know, like a giant bird and are quite good on rocky terrain. They are related in some aspects to a kangaroo. They will bite, claw, kick and spit! I want nothing to do with the creatures. I do not even want them behind me while I am working on the goats. The lama will be thinking, ‘what is that man doing to my goats!’ Goats have hooves, which I do trim. But a lama—I do not wish to go anywhere near those claws.”

“Many animals once held no inherent fear of man. Some of these spirits are kept alive by breeders for protecting livestock, such as lamas, certain working dog breeds intended to protect sheep and such. Cats, in particular are not to be trusted. Have seen Dalya here? Kills a full grown rabbit.

“Once Daniel Boone, not far from here, was returning with another hunter, who told the tale, with a deer. They were being tracked by a panther. Daniel Boone, said, ‘With the deer as a burden, that panther will likely get us.’ So he told the other fellow to leave it. They got home. It was dark. Boone told the other man to release his dogs and he did. He then said to get torches and follow. The man did not want to go looking for a panther at night. But this was Daniel Boone. You did what he said. The dogs had found the panther feeding on the venison and treed it. They then used the torches to illuminate the panther’s eyes and shot it. Boone was not having a panther take his venison. It is instructive to know, that ancient and medieval Europeans had dealings with not only wolves, but lions. Leopards I do not know. My sister used to work with big cats. That Tiger King character who is in prison for taking out a contract to kill another tiger breeder, my sister was part of that crew that took custody of his animals when he was convicted.”

There is an illustration of a youthful Alexander and friend fighting a lion.

Thank you, Paul.