My very first friend would have to be my father. Sorry mom, but he and I were pretty tight from way back. He could always indulge in play with me, if only for a short time, without being the parent.
He always made sure that I had a horse of some sort. He introduced me to my love for horses at the back fence of the race track. My first written word was the name of a race horse. Yellow jacket.
My first horse was the black and white plastic Blaze with movable legs. Blaze was mounted on a stand instead of a rocker or springs.
Not long afterward, my dad got me a real pony. The stories of the ponies that we went through could be a book all their own.
I watched today as my father performed a very brave act in a very public setting. He volunteers on several boards in our community. A board meeting was held today with members of the community voicing their support of an issue that my father disagreed with. He boldly cast the only vote against the proposed project.
He was my very first friend, and will always be my very best friend. Love you mother and pops!