Tom Booker

There was a boy from the Blackfeet reservation, he used to do some work around here for a while. Sixteen, strong kid, good kid. He and I were really, really good friends. One day he went swimming and dove headfirst into the lake… and right into a rock. And it snapped his neck, paralyzed him. And after the accident I'd look in on him from time to time. But he wasn't there. It was like his mind, his spirit, whatever you want to call it, just disappeared. The only thing left was just anger. Just sort of as if the… the boy I once knew just went somewhere else.

I know you do. Don't you disappear. You do whatever you have to do to hold on.

I didn't know that it was right to love her. I just loved her.

You get born a bull you have a 90% chance of being castrated. Served up as hamburger. So on balance, I reckon I'd choose bein' a cow.

What went on out there with Pilgrim?

See Grace, I've got a problem. When I work with a horse, I like to know its history. Now sometimes, a horse, in their own way, can pretty much tell you the whole story. But sometimes, they get so messed up in their head that you need more to go on. Now I don't know how you feel about talking about it. And if you don't feel like it, I understand. But if I'm gonna figure out what's going on in his head, it sure would help me if I understood exactly what happened that day. You know, not today. Whenever you feel like it. I'll leave that up to you.