He was born in the afternoon, during one of the biggest, loudest storms I had ever witnessed. The best name my eight-year-old imagination could come up with, was Thunder. He was my very first horse and I loved him. We grew up together; best friends, Thunder and me. Forty years later, whenever there is a big, loud storm I feel it in my soul that it’s my Thunder, letting me know that he still misses me, too.