He was her daddy's good cowhorse.
Bought at an auction out of a kill pen.
He was a flea bitten grey with an odd brand alongside his mane.
Horrible smelling when soaked in sweat.
But she loved him.
Effectively stealing his loyalty away from her daddy.
He covered a lot of miles, his walk as fast as most trot.
He was strong, he was tough.
He'd go all day then try his rider just before home.
But never with the little girl, he took care of her.
He lived to chase cattle through the brush, breaking hard and fast.
He was tough on other horses, only allowing a little Mustang mare to be his pen-mate.
He talked when you fed him, not a normal nicker, it was different.
Eventually he became so attached to the girl that no one else could catch him.
The little girl joined 4-H, oh the things she subjected him to!
Baths, blankets, clippers, black hoof polish and even an English saddle.
He wasn't a show horse but he was always game.
Occasionally showing his boredom by falling asleep in showmanship classes.
They spent hours roaming the countryside.
Her daddy never worrying because he knew that ole grey would always bring his little girl home.
She rode him for the last time in a snow storm.
He was 28 and half blind, but that didn't slow him up.
He practically loped in place he was so excited to go.
The following winter the loyal old fellow gave up.
He may be gone, buried with so many others, but he'll always hold the top spot in her heart.
Xo Loves,
Me
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