Clicky is an American Paint Horse, a breed that is known for its natural intelligence and willing disposition. Unusual for the American breed, Clicky was born in China on the Douglas Ranch. From there, he was lovingly crated and shipped to North America. He landed safely at a ranch in Alberta, where Grandma B spotted him and promptly bought him for her future grandchild. This was in the spring of 2002.
Clicky waited quite patiently for the new little person who would be his owner. For months, he sat in his stall (a box) full of other animals, including a panda and an alligator! Within months of his owner's arrival, Clicky was retrieved from his stall and put on display for the small child, Maïa. She paid very little attention to him, preferring a doll named Choley and a handful of other animals.
When the child began to learn Baby Signs, the little horse, who was still unnamed, got his chance. In a scene reminiscent of the naming of the animals by Adam in Genesis, the child's parents paraded all the animals before the child to teach her signs and sounds to identify each one. The "sign" for horse was the clicking of the tongue. The child delighted in the feeling of her tongue in her mouth when she "said" horse. Soon, it was one of her favourite words to say. It was not long before the child would ask for her horse, and sometimes even call him herself, with her little tongue sounds.
As the child grew and learned conventional, verbal language, her parents believed it was time that the little horse have a name that was more than a sound effect. The choice was obvious: the onomatopeic name of Clicky was inaugurated.
By the time the child had reached the age of 13 months, Clicky was her friend of choice. He was her playmate and her bedmate. Nana taught the child how to make him drink from her hand. Dad taught her how to make him gallop. Clicky went everywhere the child went. This was the beginning of the special friendship between child and horse.
Clicky was officially baptised into exclusive friendship with the child on holiday in Cuba. There, he began his relatively short journey to looking quite loved and weathered. He got sand in his fur, pineapple juice in his mane, drippings from chicken on his hooves, and vomit from head to hoof. He was hand-scrubbed at least four times in the space of a week, and he experienced a frightening yet exhilirating ride in the washing machine upon his return home. His mane was never the same again: he looked like a young Elvis with his large, black pompadour.
Since that time, Clicky has been dropped in rain puddles, mud, snow, sand, gravel, dirt, pavement, and even a toilet. He has been vomitted on at least half a dozen times. He has spent a night outside, alone, far from home, after being dropped and forgotten. His fur is stained a greyish beige; his mane is permanently dreadlocked; he has lost weight; he is hardly ever able to stand on his own anymore; his eyes are so scratched up that he has severe cateracts. But through the magic of a child's love, Clicky is more beautiful and more precious today than he has ever been.
Clicky goes everywhere with the child: when she eats, he watches her lovingly from his official meal-time perch on the refrigerator; when she goes to bed, he is mashed up underneath her; when she goes to daycare, he goes along; he has even been known to join her on trips to the bathroom (hence the toilet incident).
Interesting facts about Clicky
Clicky has a sister named Zip (who belongs to the child's younger sister) and a cousin named Noireau.
Clicky's middle name is Sky (given to him by the child, when she was two).
Despite his skinny-ness and tired legs, Clicky can jump more than four times his height (about the height of the child's upstretched arms).
Clicky has been immortalised in a sweater knitted by Nana.
Clicky is surprisingly photogenic: do not believe the apparent cleanliness of his demeanour captured in the picture above.
Clicky sometimes speaks in a very high-pitched voice, but mostly he neighs (his neighing sounds like laughter).
Clicky likes to sleep in unexpected places. The parents have been known to crawl into bed late at night only to find the little horse curled up, deep beneath their covers.
Clicky is very influencial: he has convinced the child that she herself is a horse (she has been known to click or neigh in response to questions posed to her). Yet Clicky has never been reprimanded for this misdeed: his charisma does not allow for others to hold a grudge.
Clicky is a beloved member of the family now; life without him would be unthinkable.
2 comments:
What a lovely story! It almost sounds like a children's book in the making! P.S. my "clicky" was a fluorescent 2 foot pink bear who now only has one eye, is balding in several places, and has stuffing in only 3 of his 4 limbs. ..and even though he lives in an attic in another country, I will always remember the comfort he gave me.
Perhaps a story about a band of clikcy-type friends... what was your bear's name?
Post a Comment