The Dream of Coco
By Gina M. Gafford
Magical, Mystical and Just Plain Cool
Reading/Poem
Sponsored by the Literary Committee of the Arts Consortium of Carver County (ACCC)
Sower Gallery (Shepherd of the Hill Presbyterian Church, Chaska, Minnesota)
February 8, 2026, 12:00-2:00 p.m.

Whenever I am near a horse, I feel like everything will be okay. My heart gallops in rhythm with the horse. Dust fills my nostrils, always bringing me back to my youth.

When I was 10 years old, I met Heidi at school. She was two grades younger than I, but we connected right away. She introduced me to the world of horses. Heidi had a hobby farm on the outskirts of Chanhassen, Minnesota. I would walk to the hobby farm by cutting across fields. Back then, there were a few houses, and the business district was still a dream.

My first ride was on a Shetland pony named Thimble. Thimble was always tolerant of our shenanigans. We would ride on Thimble’s neck (I know that wasn’t very nice), invite her into the kitchen to eat out of the refrigerator, and take her into town where people would slow down to see the cream-colored pony.

Thimble was my first love until I met Coco a few years later. Coco was a chestnut brown quarter horse. She appeared so tall. I learned how to put on a bridle, saddle, and a lead rope. Coco was so majestic, I was in love.

I loved kissing her velvet nose and rubbing the white stripe on her forehead. I could feel the massive muscles under her short, rough fur.

Heidi and I took the horses for a swim in Lake Ann. It was a quiet lake; no motorboats were allowed. I rode Coco. I gently walked her into the calm, cool lake. She appeared confident as we got deeper and deeper. 

Then in one mystical moment, I was swimming with the horse. I didn’t even know horses could swim. As we rode bareback, Heidi and I laughed and laughed. Then Coco turned her head and bit me on my left thigh. After the sharp pain, I fell off the horse and began to cry. Heidi jumped off her horse to grab Coco’s halter. I couldn’t believe Coco bit me! The red spot turned into a huge black and blue bruise, the size of a grapefruit, and I had a new respect for horses. I forgave Coco for biting me.

Through the years, I rode Coco and other horses that joined the hobby farm. I begged my parents to buy me a horse, but they said they couldn’t afford one, and that we’d have to board it. Later, I volunteered at We Can Ride, which is a therapeutic riding program. I volunteered so I could be near horses and help children and adults with disabilities. It was an excellent program, and because of this reflection and story, I’m thinking about volunteering again.

The Dream of Coco, by GG

In the quiet stillness of the star-filled night,
Coco dreamt of running free.
She felt her dark gray hooves pounding on the packed white snow, 
and her warm, pumping breath, mixed with the glow of the morning sun. 
Her chocolate-brown mane whipped in the cool air. 
She had the confidence of a Mustang, wild and free.
In the morning, once the yellow sun reached the horizon,
Coco woke from her dream.
She shook her dusty mane
and felt the cool air filled with possibilities.
Coco’s spirit will always be wild and free.

Namaste.