After finishing up the chores, I put a few cookies in my pocket -- just in case -- and wandered over to the pasture fence. Tex and Flash were quietly concentrating on their hay, heads down, chewing slowly and deliberately. I stood quietly at the fence while Brett closed up the barn for the night. Tex looked up, and then walked over to me. I slipped him a cookie and, as he chewed, I stood with my arms crossed on the top rail and my head on my arms. I was tired and hot and I didn't expect Tex to stay. I just lacked the energy to move.
Tex didn't leave, though. He stepped closer and sniffed my hair. I felt his warm breath on my ear and then on my cheek. He put his head through the space between the rails and nudged my shirt. I mumbled, "no more cookies, Tex. I'm out."
And, still, he stayed. He explored me the way a mother explores her newborn child. I felt incredible connection in those moments. Tex blew softly on my face again before returning to his dinner. Since that evening, he's been completely relaxed with me. We know each other.