“what a rotten day this turned out to be” (George Strait, Baby’s Gotten Good at Goodbye)
Belle is calling for you, her whinny’s searching.
You called to her, one of your last breaths.
Trusting us, through near misses.
Close calls, but this one was too close.
Gone so fast, no time to even get a vet here.
The angel’s needed a good horse to ride.
I guess you were needed more there.
My heart just doesn’t understand why.
Look for Grandpa there, he’ll have his hat on.
Buddy up to Lefty, Rudy and the rest.
Kelly will take you riding, I’m sure he will.
I’ll braid your tail hair to wear, to remember you.
What a rotten day. The tears just keep coming.
I know I look like a wreck, a mess. Losing it.
Never, ever ‘just a horse’ but more. So much more.
I’ll miss riding you, petting you and smelling you.
Another piece of my heart is missing now.
The wound will heal with love and friends.
I’m thankful for that but still I could do
without another horse, dog or cat shaped scar.
Ranger died today, very fast, from ingesting a poison probably like water hemlock. We’ll miss him.
Ranger, Belle, Tika and Lola
Sunflower Poetry 