Weekend Snapshot: A horse with a name

Meet Chester. He lives in Beamish. I don't know how I knew his name. There are three probabilities: someone told me his name was Chester; his name was listed in that guidebook on my left hand or I just named him myself.

One thing defies my progressing senility - Chester is a heart stealer. Even without a capture, this heart-warming moment will breathe eternally fresh in my stock of beautiful emotions. I held out my palm. He came closer and checked what's in it for him. Mint candies. Chester didn't hesitate. He licked them off as if thinking, "what took you so long to give me my treat?" I forgot the shrinking complaint of my south-east asian blood against the cold of North England.

I told Chester to leave some for me. He kept on eating til my palm was empty. I giggled and he understood I had more. It only took a second for him to realize where are the rest. He licked my purse too! The force of his tongue gave me a gentle push. His intelligence sealed my admiration for him. That's when I patted his head. We exchanged the same unspoken message of thanks. His grateful eyes melted my dancing heart.