Alright, here's some more:
I crawled out of bed sleepily. "It muste be, like, 3 in the morning" I thought, grasping through the dark for my watch. I couldn't find it so I staggered over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. I found my watch sitting under my bed, the hands showing 7:00 am. "Oh, darn!" I whispered, not wanting to wake my parents, who always slept in. I got dressed quickly and slipped outside, grabbing a bright green bucket for Rust's feed. I scanned the paddock with my eyes. Rust wasn't in his usual spot by the gate. I searched silently for him, still with my eyes, trying to see him in the morning mist. Fear started to churn in my stomach as I couldn't find my horse anywhere. Had he escaped. But the gate was shut tight, with a padlock, even. "Rust?" I called feebly. I ran to the gate, the bucket still in my hand. From the gate, I could see over to the row of dark trees by the far fence. A dark figure was visible there, down in the dewy grass. I dropped the empty bucket and scrambled over the fence, my breath fast and anxious. "Rust! Hello, boy..." I slowed down and walked over to the gelding, my hand outstretched. "Please...please let him be fine" I prayed in my mind. Rust always got into some sort of trouble. I could now see him clearly, lying there in the grass, his head up, gazing at me. "Colic" was the first word that sprang into my mind. I looked over my horse. Was that sweat wettening his shoulders and flanks? I swallowed hard and crept closer. "Rust, horsie...are you..." The gelding suddenly put his head back, dug his front hooves into the ground and swung to his feet. I ran to his side, touching his flanks. All nice and warm, not hot. To my relief, the moisture on his coat was just dew, cool and smelling like grass. Thank god, I thought. I had just overreacted. Rust wasn't a horse who liked to lie down, but maybe he felt like it this particular morning. I gave him a quick pat and then went back to prepare his feed.
I sat in the hammock, soaking up the sweet sun. Rust, in the bottom paddock, was romping around happily like a colt. A shadow came along the road. I strained my eyes to see what it was, and I noticed that it was one of the neighbour's pet ducks. Those ducks always run free, pleasing themselves in the small lake next to Rust's paddock. But this duck seemed to feel brave, because it started fluttering onto the paddock's fence. There it sat, squawking and looking in every direction. Then it took off...into Rust's paddock. I held my breath to see what would happen. The gelding stopped jumping around and stared at the duck. He then casually walked over, ears forward, neck stretched out. The duck stood her ground, squawking into Rust's face. Rust stood, his ears now flicking with curiosity- then pinning against his head. In a single movement, Rust was upon the bird, teeth bared, hooves streaking the air. I bit my lip, anxious for the poor duck. But the animal had already taken to the air, "laughing" at my sulking gelding from above. Rust kicked up his heels and ran a few rounds in the paddock, his loss not seeming to bother him. I sighed happily and retreated back into the hammock.