My Patchooky is like having another friend—a four-legged girlfriend.

She’s a horse, a girl horse—mare, actually—with big brown splotches on white. Or is it the other way around? And her eyes are blue. Spooky.

Patchooky.

Obviously, she can’t text message or sit with us at lunch and talk about boys. But, omgosh, can she read people.

When kids or grownups come near her, she can tell what they’re like—shy, pushy, full of themselves, cool—better than a whole row of girlfriends in the cafeteria. All I have to do is watch how she reacts.

And she is never wrong.

Like that time at the school fair. My dad and I had brought Patchooky to the playground and set up a portable corral. Kids could take rides for a quarter.

Madison. She was the first one to step inside the ring. Step inside wearing new pink shoes with a matching tank top. Walking on her tiptoes around the patches of straw.

“Nice horsey,” she said. But she pushed her hand out as if to say, but stay right where you are.

Patchooky strolled toward her. Madison backed up.

There was straw caught in her matching pink socks. When she bent to brush it away, the mare drooped her monster head to watch.

“Aack!” Madison squawked, pushing her hands in front of her chest.

That’s when Patchooky gave a long, boogery horse-snort that sent her running. Her hands were at her side. She was squealing, “Eew! Eew! Gross. Horse slobber.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I think Patchooky winked at me.

Next, our principal, Mr. Anderson, stepped up. He was talking loudly like he was on the PA announcing assembly.

“How you doin’, buddy?”

“Uhm, sir,” I said in a small voice, “she’s a girl.”

“Oh. Well, then,” he continued, loudly, patting Patchooky on the shoulder, “how’re you doin’, honey?”

My horse flinched. Stepped away. She didn’t like loud talk.

Mr. Anderson got close again, stood on one leg, and aimed his left toe at the stirrup.

Patchooky stepped sideways. My principal hopped closer.

Patchooky sidestepped again. Pretty soon, Mr. Anderson was hopping on one foot all around the corral, his tie flapping over his shoulder.

It was kind of funny.