It's always good to remember where you came from.  Me, age 8.  During the summers I lived on a horse and in crawdad ponds.  We didn't get much television, and I didn't have a library card.  All I had were a few books that I read over and over again, and my imagination.  I was forever making up stories and my brother Johnny would illustrate some of them.

The horse's name was Cocoa, and he was half-Shetland pony.  The birddog was Noble.  Didn't take me long to get onto bigger horses, and at age 13 and 14 (when you bounced off the ground easier), I broke them.