The Horse Who Wore Sunglasses

The Horse Who Wore Sunglasses

Arlo was not like other horses. While the other horses on Buttercup Farm were busy munching hay and swishing their tails at flies, Arlo was busy being… well, cool.

It all started on a Tuesday morning when a tour bus full of people drove past the farm. One particularly excited tourist leaned out the window to take a photo, and—WHOOPS!—his shiny red sunglasses flew right off his face and landed with a soft plop in the grass.

Arlo trotted over to investigate. He sniffed the strange object. He nudged it with his nose. And then, quite by accident, he stepped on one side of the sunglasses, which caused them to flip up perfectly onto his face.

“Oh my,” said Arlo, looking at his reflection in the water trough. “Oh my.”

Everything looked different through the red lenses. The sky was pink. The grass was orange. And Arlo? Arlo looked magnificent.

“Hey everyone!” called Arlo to the other horses. “Look at me!”

Beatrice the mare glanced up from her breakfast. “Arlo, what on earth are you wearing?”

“Sunglasses!” Arlo said proudly, tossing his mane. “I’m a fashion horse now.”

Chester, the oldest horse on the farm, squinted at him. “You look ridiculous.”

“I look cool,” Arlo corrected him. “There’s a difference.”

And with that, Arlo clip-clopped away, his sunglasses glinting in the morning sun.

By lunchtime, word had spread all around Buttercup Farm. The chickens gathered to whisper about it. The sheep pressed against the fence to get a better look. Even Old MacDonald himself scratched his head when he saw Arlo prancing around the paddock wearing sunglasses.

“Well, I’ll be,” said Old MacDonald. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

Arlo rather enjoyed all the attention. He practiced walking with extra swagger. He learned how to toss his head so the sunglasses wouldn’t fall off. He even developed a special stance where he stood very still and looked off into the distance, as if he were thinking deep, mysterious thoughts (even though he was usually just thinking about carrots).

But wearing sunglasses wasn’t all fun and games.

During afternoon exercises, Arlo misjudged a jump over the fence and landed in a bush. “I couldn’t see very well,” he admitted, spitting out leaves. “Everything’s pink.”

During dinner, he accidentally ate Old MacDonald’s hat instead of hay. “It all looks orange!” he explained, still chewing.

And during the evening walk, Arlo walked straight into the barn door with a loud BONK.

“Maybe those sunglasses aren’t such a good idea,” suggested Beatrice kindly, helping him up.

“Nonsense!” said Arlo, adjusting them on his nose. “I just need practice.”

That night, as the moon rose high and bright, Arlo decided to sleep in his sunglasses. He wanted to be ready to look cool the moment he woke up.

But sleeping in sunglasses is rather uncomfortable. They pressed against his face. They made his ears itch. And every time he tried to lie down, they slipped sideways.

Arlo tossed and turned. He flipped and flopped. He tried sleeping standing up, sitting down, and even upside down (which didn’t work at all).

Finally, at midnight, he heard a small voice.

“Psst! Arlo!”

He looked down to see Pip the mouse sitting on the fence post.

“Can’t sleep?” asked Pip.

“These sunglasses are very uncomfortable,” Arlo admitted quietly. “But I can’t take them off. Everyone expects me to wear them now. I’m the cool horse. The sunglasses horse. The horse who’s… different.”

Pip tilted his tiny head. “Arlo, do you know what I think is cool?”

“What?”

“Being comfortable. Being yourself. Being able to see where you’re going.” Pip twitched his whiskers. “Besides, you were already different before the sunglasses.”

“I was?” asked Arlo.

“Sure! You’re the only horse who helps me reach the high shelf in the feed barn. You’re the only horse who knows all the words to the sunrise song. You’re the only horse who makes funny faces to cheer up the baby chicks.” Pip smiled. “That’s pretty special if you ask me.”

Arlo thought about this. He thought about walking into doors and eating hats and landing in bushes. He thought about how his ears itched and how everything looked the wrong color.

Slowly, carefully, Arlo lifted his head and let the sunglasses slide gently down his nose. He caught them in his teeth and placed them carefully on the fence post.

“You know what?” said Arlo. “I think I’ll just be regular Arlo.”

“There’s nothing regular about you,” said Pip with a grin.

That night, Arlo slept better than he had in days. And in the morning, when the same tour bus drove past the farm, someone pointed and said, “Look! A horse!”

And Arlo whinnied happily, because being noticed for being a horse was quite enough for him.

The red sunglasses stayed on the fence post, where they made an excellent nest for a family of robins. And whenever the sun hit them just right, they sparkled and winked, as if remembering their brief adventure on a horse’s nose.

From then on, Arlo was still special. Still different. Still himself.

Just without the sunglasses.

(Though he did occasionally borrow them for the annual farm photo. Because even horses like to dress up sometimes.)

The End

Sweet dreams, little one. Remember, you’re perfect just the way you are.

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