Little Horse on the prairie.

Resting on a crate in the corner of a darkened boxcar that was making it’s way from one place to another, Cabo observed the passing scenery of fields and trees through the slats of the splintered wall. He fingered the stone in his pocket and allowed his mind to wander without direction.
The cadence and rhythm of the carriage slowed indicating that the train was either approaching a curve or a station. As the speed of the train gradually decreased and came to a halt, Cabo was shocked out of his reverie by a cacophony and pandemonium that might have upset the serenity of the great Buddha himself.
A horse was pulled into the car; kicking and whinnying and snorting in direct proportion to the efforts of those who were intent on placing her into a pen designed and built to constrain horses on long journeys in darkened boxcars on trains going from one place to another. In such situations, numbers count. The horse was pitifully outnumbered and forced unwillingly and unceremoniously into the “stable”. Cabo had hopped down from the crate and observed, unnoticed by any of the players in this scene, the on goings from a spot next to the door.

When every thing was settled and the train was once again on it’s way, Cabo once again leaped up onto the crate and graciously introduced himself to the horse.
“Good afternoon, Horse,” Cabo croaked. “My name is Cabo and I, as you well can see, am a frog.”
“Yes, I can see that you are a frog and a pink one at that, but what is so good about this afternoon?” Whinnied Horse.
“Well for one thing the sun is shining, the day is warm and we both are sharing a journey from one place to another.” Horse stared at the frog and a ponderous silence fell between them.
“We could pass the day with conversation,” noted Cabo. “Maybe get to know each other a little better and share some tales about our past.” Horse snorted and tried to turn away from Cabo, but the pen afforded no leeway.
She reluctantly faced the frog again and flatly stated, “I have no time for idle chit-chat, frog, there will be no more journeys for me once I have reached my destination.”

Cabo had, in his younger days, traveled on this particular rail line before and had overheard many conversations between the those who had shared the ride. At the time their comments had been cryptic, but eventually he’d come to understand what had happened to those who got off at the big station, so he did know what fate awaited Horse. Time passed with nothing but he rhythmical clacking of the train wheels and the occasional snort from the mare marking the amount of time that passed between them.

After an seemingly unendurable interval, Cabo spoke again.
“It seems to me that Racehorses have pretty good lives,” said Cabo, ignoring Horse’s dark mood. “You probably have plenty of stories about city life; about running in races and the winners circle.”
Surprisingly, this time Horse replied.
“Yes, Cabo, There was a time that life was good. I was the luckiest horse I knew; I l raced and I was a champion.” Horse snorted and scratched at the floor of the boxcar. “I’d like to run again but, not in a race, I want to run for myself and see the prairies and mountains. Yet it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.” Horse looked up at frog with rheumy eyes and her quiet intelligence reached out to Cabo.
“You know, I reckon that gate behind you ain’t all that strong,” mused Cabo. “One good kick should be able to do the trick.”
“Then what,” said Horse. “There’s no way off this train, maybe you haven’t noticed but, were locked up inside a boxcar.”
“Well, if that door was open do you think you could jump off the train?”
“Jumping off is the easy part, getting the car door open is another matter,” said Horse.
“Well, it just so happens that the car door isn’t locked at all.”
“Not locked?!” Horse exclaimed. “How can that be?”
“I just happened to have a stone in my pocket and I jammed it into the door frame.”
Without another word, Horse kicked back, shattering the gate and knocking it off it’s hinges. She backed out of the stall and reared up on her hind legs. She then walked over to the car door and pushed it open. The boxcar was suddenly filled with sunlight and a strong invigorating wind.
“You knew all along that the door could be opened? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” snorted Horse, somewhat perturbed.
“The train was traveling too fast and it wouldn’t have done any good, besides I thought maybe you could share a story or two.”
“Well, it’s time we got off this train. Are you with me?”
“Sure am!”

With that Cabo and Horse leaped off the train and onto a grassy field. Horse landed gracefully as was expected and Cabo, unsurprisingly, went flying ass over teakettle landing somewhat lopsided with his legs sticking straight into the air.
Horse approached Cabo and bowed.
“You’ve saved my life and set me free,” Horse said gratefully. “It’s not much in return for my life, but I want you to have this.” Horse gave Cabo a small horseshoe. “This is from when I was just a yearling; it’s always brought me luck and I can certainly say meeting you was a stroke of luck indeed.”
Cabo just sat there and smiled at his new found friend. He placed the shoe of good fortune in his pocket where the stone used to be and thanked Horse for the gift.
“If there is anything I can ever do for you all you ever have to do is ask,” said Horse.
“Well, not that you mention it, I seem to have lost my ride,” croaked Cabo sheepishly.
“Hop on up, young frog, I will give you a lift.” With that Cabo leaped up and settled himself comfortably between her ears. “So, what do you want to know about life in the big city?” Horse asked. And Horse and Cabo, Cabo and Horse trotted off together.

Oh, yes. I almost forgot to mention… The sunset was beautiful.