I wasn't going to put much on here in the way of poems anymore, but the discussion about the old horses in Horses and Dogs changed my Mind. I had the pleasure of knowing one of the toughest horses in the world, and everyday when I go through the pasture checking heifers this time of the year, I get to go by his grave. When I do, I can hear him nicker just like he used to do when he heard the front door open in the morning and he knew somebody was coming outside at the beginning of a new day.
Ole Skeeter
Skeeter was not a young horse, the day that we all met,
After a few years of knowing him, he was as good as they ever get.
Didn’t think much of him, kinda ugly and too small,
Could of cared less about his breeding, about his background and all.
Got him from a neighbor, they didn’t need him anymore,
I kinda like good horses, and I’m always keeping score.
Had this big piece of hide, missing from his hip,
Old enough to be hard to catch, with grey around his lip.
Never had a buck in him, but he could duck out from under you,
Rode my share of horses, those with that heart are far and few.
I roped my share of calves, he did all of the work,
Never needed any persuasion, never needed spurs or quirt.
I rode him many times, his heart it always prevailed,
He would get the job done, at his work he never failed.
Maybe all of his life, he didn’t feel like part of the team,
Who knows, maybe in his lifetime, some people were kinda mean.
Guess he started liking us, cause he’d give a nicker every morn,
Even with a softer side, don’t think there was a tougher horse born.
Rode him for a few years, then the kids took him over,
He probably thought he had it made, kids and sweet red clover.
He had no idea of kids and running fast as you could.
He was my best hired hand, teaching them best he could.
He came to love that life, training all my kids,
He got to love pushing cows, teaching is what he did.
He taught my son how to rope a calf, and drag to the branding fire,
Putting up with teaching kids, Skeeter would never tire.
Then along came the youngest, now he had to deal with a girl,
He had always been a cowhorse, none of this pink and swirl.
He took it all in, got the feel of someone who spoils,
Way better way of life, than a horse who always toils.
He became an icon, had a permanent position on the ranch,
Just knew he would always be here, just looking for the chance.
There has to be another kid out there, that he can take care of,
Just has to be another little girl, with whom I can share some love.
Could not ever think of the day when he’d be gone,
Even now, I’m wishing, what I’m telling you is wrong.
Twenty six years on this earth, Skeeter had to give,
I only wish that twenty six more, he could possibly live.
His heart that carried him, for all these golden years,
Is the reason why my family, now is all in tears
His heart has failed him, his going has come to pass,
We now have buried him, beneath the growing grass.
In this world, real friends, are few and far between,
With animal friends, we know without talking, what the other means.
To my friends like Skeeter , together we will ride once more,
Up there in greener pastures, we will live a life galore.
And little girls and horses will be the best of friends,
And this cycle of life I hope, will never come to end.