Dreams of a Dancing Horse by Dandi Daley Mackall

on my broad back.
    We pass Molly and Jonathan. They stare, wide eyed, at us. “What are you doing?” Jonathan shouts.
    Molly doubles over with laughter, then dances in the aisle behind us until Jonathan joins her. Soon a conga line of vendors follows, dancing to the woman’s song.
    It is the perfect ending to our perfect day.

    That night, Molly comes over with oats and apples and a simply delicious feast.
    Jonathan counts the day’s earnings as Molly cooks up a great-smelling meal for the two of them.
    â€œThis is more than I usually make in a month of Sundays!” he announces. “Molly, my love, when did you come up with the idea of having me sketch people on Fella?”
    I’m staring at them through the window. Molly glances out at me and grins. “That wasn’t my idea, you ninny. That was Fella’s.”
    â€œWell, thank you, Fella!” Jonathan shouts. “It was one lucky day when you stumbled into my life.”

    Every day for the next two weeks I give rides to people in the marketplace, and Jonathan sketches, or even paints, their pictures. Molly charges double for paintings. Some humans come to the market just to ride me and get a painting done. It is truly remarkable.
    At night Molly counts the money and places it in the little money box.
    I am so comfortable with my life here that I can’t help wondering if this might be the home I’ve longed for. I still miss my Lena, but I know I’ll never see her again. And Molly and Jonathan could not be kinder to me if they tried.
    One evening before Molly comes over to make dinner, Jonathan joins me outside. He puts one arm over my neck and leans against me. “Say, Fella. I need your advice.”
    I nicker.
    â€œThanks to you, Molly and I have enough money to get married now. I’m thinking about asking for her hand in marriage. I’m pretty nervous about it. I mean, we’ve talked about our dreams together. But that was just talk. What if she doesn’t feel about me like I feel about her? What if Molly says no?”
    â€œWell of course Molly won’t say no!” I reply. And of course, he can’t understand my words.
    â€œDo you think I should ask her tonight?” he asks.
    I nod. Up and down. Up and down.
    â€œAll right, then!”
    Moments later, Molly walks up looking pretty as a picture. “Hi there, you—!”
    â€œMolly, will you marry me?” Jonathan blurts it out.
    So much for a romantic proposal. If my young friend could understand me, I would have suggested flowers and an engagement ring. A candlelit dinner prepared by him, perhaps. Soft music playing while he went down on one knee.
    â€œYes!” Molly runs to him and jumps into his arms. “Yes! Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”
    Then again, there’s no accounting for humans.
    Molly breaks into song, and the three of us dance. We dance song after song until we’re too tired to take another step. It is a glorious night.

    A couple of nights later when Jonathan and Molly finish dinner and are counting the day’s income, I peer in at them through the open window. A soft light spills onto the lawn, where I graze on sparse grass. I love eavesdropping on their dinner chats and sharing their joy as they plan their wedding.
    â€œWhere do you want to get married?” Molly asks. “I’m not sure our church is big enough to—”
    â€œNew York City,” Jonathan says, cutting her off.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œMolly, I’ve counted and recounted the money we’ve saved. We have enough to get us to New York, to have a big church wedding if you want one. And we’ll still have plenty to set ourselves up in our new careers. I’ll start painting right away. And you can get a singing job. All they have to do is hear you sing. You’ll be hired on the spot.”
    â€œOh, Jonathan, that would be wonderful!” She grows quiet. “Only there’s one big