I savor a very special memory from my childhood; my father placing me on a horse back on our front garden. In the 1990 when the political system of Albania changed my father, sadly the horse was sold and he became an economical emigrant in Greece.
One of my all-time wishes has been to learn horse-riding. In part, I blame as well the very many historical romances I’ve read (hey don’t judge) and perhaps the frequency of watching Pride and Prejudice (all the versions!). A good friend of mine owns a horse and I had been nagging her to meet him. My darlings meet Cowboy…
No, not this one: he/she is called Gucci.
My darlings meet Cowboy. Isn’t he handsome?! He is a giant, loves his master and carrots. I was of course terrified to approach him considering his size and my size but the end I managed to pet him on the forehead.
After harassing Cowboy we moved to Lauf and der Pegniz, a small town located on the East of Nuremberg which I would definitely recommend visiting, if life brings you on this side of the world.
I tried to pull the cowgirl off that day with only the hat and a piece of dried grass between my front teeth missing. How did I do?