Log0047 | Neighbour and the Horse

First I heard the horse. It was becoming normal to hear the horse from our house, but this time it was from the east, not west. Next I heard the neighbour. Then his five-year-old son. So I stepped outside to see what was going on. 
The neighbour carried a lasso in one hand while he and his son were trying to move the big beautiful animal with their presence. There she stood, in the long Chilean grasses; imported pastures from past generations. The boy didn’t waver for a moment. To him his size was that of a fully grown man. The father, full of confidence, was fine with his son equally stalking the animal. Once they got within range he looped her neck. Then took her back to the paddock on the far side of our house, his son in tow now jogging to keep up. 

After a very random (for me, very normal for them) event, he wandered over to explain. The horse was a mare, somewhere off over to the east there was a stallion. The neighbour had heard him call, and so had the mare. Apparently the gate was not much of a barrier for the mare and so she was off to follow the sound. As he explained, the comical look on his face told me that this was not the first time she had gone off looking. And not the first time he had to intervene. 
The son understood none of this, but he was content in helping. In a way he reminded me of myself. At one point I was that kid. Learning through osmosis; tracking animals, shifting them with your presence. Following your father into the fray with no fear of the animals ten times your size. Then trotting along behind him, three steps for every one of his. Must keep up. And maybe, he’d let you shut the gate.