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A Letter To My Retired Horse

"The selfish side of me yearns to take you out for one more ride..."

Ginger May Orton
Apr 26, 2016
Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College
213
A Letter To My Retired Horse
Ginger May Orton

"If you love something, let it go." To the horses we had to let go to a life of pasture....

My Retired Steed,

I remember the day I got you. I cried when I got on and dad dropped the lead rope for me to "drive" on my own. We were both 11 years old. Oh, how the times have changed. I often find myself looking at the picture of us under the pecan tree and wishing we were back there. Young, no plans, and both in pretty good shape. Now, I am in college, and you are living your well-deserved retirement. There are some things you need to know...

Don't ever think you'll be replaced by another horse. They say you will never forget your first real love, and no other horse (or love) could ever compare to you. Other horses may be younger and faster, but never sweeter, cuter, or more gentle. You always let me laugh at your upturned lip, cry over middle school boys, and pretend I was a jockey (even though neither of us were in THAT good of shape).

Remember when I promised you I'd always love you more than boys? Well, don't tell anyone, but it's still true. Even though you stepped on my toes, occasionally tossed me off, and ate me out of gas money, I would give it all for you to be my trailblazing ride again. My heart swells when I shake the feed bucket, and you seemingly forget your aching joints for a moment as you prance up to the gate, ears perked and mane blowing.

It breaks my heart to see you with your head over the red gate, whinnying "Are we going for a ride?" Your eyes say yes, but your gait says no. I wish we could sweet boy, but it's a pasture life for you. The selfish side of me yearns to take you out for one more ride. Just a ride to the mailbox. It can't hurt. But I'm reminded of your age when you slowly hobble to the gate. I wish we could sweet boy, I wish we could. But I promise to keep giving you pears and combing your hair. I promise to keep your feet clean and your feed bucket full. I promise forehead kisses and nose tickles, and I promise I will never forget the years of youth we gave one another.

See you soon,

Your Sugar Cube Supplier



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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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