This is not really about the "horse of my dreams" but rather a dream I had about a horse. The real horse of my dreams is a PRE (Spanish Andalusian) weanling that I could train from the ground up to be my next Dressage horse. Barring winning any lotteries, that will continue to be a fantasy for me. Hopefully, the horse in my dream will also continue to be a fantasy...
It began, as far as I can remember, with a horse dealer talking Bin & I into taking the last two horses for $300 each. I went out in the paddock to look at my horse and there she was, a white mare, cast (unable to get up) in the paddock, because she had rolled and was so fat that as she lay on her side, her legs didn't touch the ground so she was stuck like that. The sight of my horse stuck there didn't prompt me to get help but rather to figure out what I ought to be feeding her.
Back in the barn I went. John (from Stony Hill) was there and was some sort of feed rep. He was recommending taking her off the Senior feed and giving something else. He sent me to go check out the different feeds so I could shoose. There, in front of several open bags of feed I contemplated my choices. There was a bag of pellets, a bag of Senior feed and two bags with chunks of feed that looked just like Lego bricks. One bag had green bricks and one had pink bricks. Thinking one of those could be a good choice, I asked John what the difference was between the two. What would have been funny is if he said "The difference is that one is green and one is pink." but he didn't say that. Instead, he explained that those were sweet feeds and showed me the protein percentages of each. There was some discussion about a basic bare-bones pelleted feed and then I was suddenly back at the horse's paddock.
The poor horse was still on the ground but now I was filled with a sense of urgency and called to someone to help me roll her over. Then she was on her feet and I could see what she looked like. Her head was finely chiseled like that of an Arabian and her neck was fairly long with a nice arch. The rest of her... She was shortish both from top to bottom (I could drape my arm over her back) and from front to back (I could touch both ends of her at the same time) and very wide. The good news was that she only tried to bite me once.
Somehow, then I was back inside and describing my new horse to Bin. I said: Now that she is right side up I can tell you what she looks like. As I started to describe her beautiful face, the horse dealer interrupts and said that both of our horses are half-Arabs. In fact, Bin's horse was sired by the reigning World Champion stallion. There was no mention of my horse being any relation to a World Champion. The dealer did say that my horses was named after her deceased owner. The horse's name was Bessic Park.
Then, as often happens in dreams, I was suddenly back outside with Bin, to have another look at my horse. Bessic Park was up near the fence this time but instead of being compact and wide, she was built like a dachshund. Her legs were stubby and her back was a mile long. She trotted away with a fling of her head and a snort, her tail flagging behind her and her little legs going like pistons while the middle part of her kind of swayed. She looked like the Slinky Dog from Toy Story.
As far as I can remember that was the end of my dream. Thank goodness.