Forgive my misspellings, as I am certain I didn't catch nearly all of them. I should, eventually soon be getting a new computer in which, I suspect, Word will work perfectly and spellcheck will once more be within my grasp. lol

A Day in the Life...

Of Chaucer

by Ami-chan

There are certain qualities I simply detest in a rider - the unmannerly sort, the crude, loathsome language of interferior equestrians that demand rather than request. I have always been a rather sensitive being and as such require a different sort of rider. I have suffered brusque attitudes and pure boorishness the likes of which I have no desire to see again. Then a certain set of green eyes fell upon me and I have never been the same since.

As is typical enough with my Ezra, he won me in a card game as he had, at the time, been lacking a horse of any kind. I assume he lost it in a previous gamble of some nature, or perhaps it was shot - a hazzard of the job - or he sold it because it was far too old. I only know that he has promised to never gamble me away for I am far too worthy. Though it may be that his previous horse was rather on the stupid side. One never can tell.

I know exactly what it is that Ezra P. Standish - the "P" is for Percival, though he very much hates that name - needs and I am fully capable of carrying out those needs. I always know when a con is afoot or when there might otherwise be trouble by merely being obervant and, of course, I am always prepared for every eventuality. Usually, when the situation demands it, Ezra leaves me saddled and either in a stall where the door is only partially latched or at a hitching post with my reins tied in such a way that the slightest pressure will pull them free. If necessary I can open stall doors myself, either by the latch or by breaking down the door. I only had to break one door down, though, the horrid latch was impossible on that one.

Ezra, unlike many other men I've encountered, is a true gentleman. A very rare find, indeed. He asks nothing of me that he would not suffer himself, which means he is certain that I have the best of care and most suitable environment for my illustrious self. In turn I take care of him in every way I possibly can, returning courtesy for courtesy. There is very little I would not do for Ezra, though I will say that jumping that cliff had been a sort of leap of faith as it were. Luckily my faith was not misplaced as there was a handy body of water to fall into and the drop was not so much. That had been a narrow escape there, but as always we both remained intact.

So, it really wasn't so hard a task to perform "tricks" as it were, for the amusement of his friends. Yes, they are friends, amazing as it seems and they have done wonders with him - I had feared that the only beings he could trust were of the four-legged sort and as lovely a thought as that was, considering Ezra's level of trust in me, always been distrustful of his own kind does him no good. Granted some of them can't be trusted, there are far too many dodgy ones, but these men are not amongst them. Some of them could bathe more often... but they are good, even if their smell is sometimes questionable.

Usually my tricks are used only as a ploy for money and though I know Ezra has take up bets I know this is really just for the enjoyment of it. He's using me to show off. And why not? He's told me enough I'm worth my weight in gold so showing me off is only reasonable. I don't mind the attention. Just so long as those gruddy sorts steer well clear of me. I'd hate to dent my shoes on their heads.

I'm free of any restraints at all, no saddle, no halter, nothing. People are gathered on either side of the street to watch, fully expecting me to run at all the noise - some men are purposely yelling to try to spook me and several shot off a few bullets before an evil glare from Mr. Larabee made them decide that that was not a good idea. I don't move. Naturally. I am far too stable to fall for their petty chatter. My eyes are on Ezra.

His signals are subtle, a flick of the hand, a nod in one direction or another, but I follow them. Step, step, back, back, side, side, like a sort of dance. I turn and turn, lifting my feet high and prancing as if I were performing for the most influential audence possible and not for a ratty little town's occupants. Not that I'm doing this for them. No, never. This is for Ezra.

The amazement of our audience, their praise is all lost to me. It's Ezra's smile and the light in his eyes that make me quiver with happiness. At his gesture I easily pace toward him and slid to a halt, lowering my head to nudge his shoulder. He collects his money and beams as the other men - the Seven, as they are often called - express their astonishment.

"All this time you've been ridin' a circus performer and you never told us?" Buck is the first to ask, surprised more than indignant.

"I assure you Chaucer has never been involved in any circus performances, he is merely a highly intelligent horse." I nod my head at the assessment. Then, my ears twitch back as I hear a couple of offers to buy me. Buy me. It happens, more often than I like, but I am still offended. When a hand lands on my rump, that was the last straw. My ears flattened and I whirled around, nearly taking the man's hand off. Had I been truly malicious I could have, but I truly only wished him to remove his filthy hand from my person.

Ezra stepped in immediately, his sharp whistle recalling my attention, as his hand turned me gently away from the man. I noticed that everyone backed away from me, so I already had fulfilled my intended purpose. I can tell the other Seven are shocked at my reaction, but Ezra isn't. I am civil only to those who are civil to me. "I am afraid that my horse is not nor ever will be for sale. Even if he was, he would be more likely to land you in an early grave than demonstrate his considerable skills."

I lashed my tail. Damn straight.

"And here you've been sayin' that Chauce is so 'dignified and mannerly' and he ain't no better than Peso!"

Ezra and I both snorted at the comparison. "Hardly, Mr. Tanner. That creature you call a horse is always a cantankerous beast, but Chaucer is at least a perfect gentleman for me. I cannot say the same for your relationship with Peso."

"How'd you teach him those tricks?" JD butted in, clearly impressed and ignoring my momentarily rude behavior except for the fact that he was steering well clear of my teeth. Not that I'd bite him, of course. I know my friends and certainly any friend of Ezra's is good enough in my book. Ezra's happy here, with them, whether he will ever admit that or not. He has somewhere to belong and people to back him up. Everyone needs the support of their own kind now and again and I'm glad Ezra has found his.

"One never reveals all of one's talent's, Mr. Dunne, otherwise it's not nearly as entertaining." The fact was that Ezra hadn't taught me, I had taught him, but that wasn't the point.

Though clearly disappointed - not that I could ever imagine Dancer even being capable of learning any one of my talents - JD didn't press him. It was Chris that asked, "Anything else he can do?"

"Other than trampling miscreants, breaking in skulls, opening latches, untying knots, breaking down doors, jumping fences, and diving off cliffs? No, I think that about covers it."

There was a long pause. Then Nathan, who had raised his eyebrows, asked, "Diving off cliffs?"

Ezra grinned, hoping someone would take the bait. "Indeed. There was water beneath it, naturally. I hadn't even been sure that he would jump, but Chaucer is always full of surprises and an incredible amount of faith."

"This I have got to hear!"

They tagged along as Ezra lead me back to my customary stall, launching into the tale that had lead up to being chased down by a hoard of angry men all the way to a cliff's edge. None of the other horses would even consider jumping, of course, despite the fact that it had been a perfectly safe distance and by the time they had made it down we had been long gone.

We haven't ended up in that sort of trouble for a while now. Life hasn't been dull, though, not in this place with these men. There's something going on all the time and I honestly think it's for the best, for Ezra's best, and as long as he is happy than I am too.

-The End-

Note: typically "Patrick" is used for Ezra's middle name, but I was feeling contrary so I went with Percival. And perhaps I have been reading HP too much lately; can I help it that I adore Percy?

I intend to eventually write up a little drabble for each of the horses... eventually (as chapters under this title so "A day in the life of Peso" etc). I already have my little outlines all written up, so it's just a matter of filling in all the details. It may take a while, especially depending on the responses I get. Honestly, the reason I started this was because I got a large horse plushie that vaguely resembles Chaucer (it's nearly the size of a small shetland pony so it is quite large) and... Chaucer demanded his perspective be told. I couldn't deny him.