Today, we started to feed you “senior feed.”
Keeping weight on has become difficult. Your coat isn’t the first to shed out this spring and your eyes have taken on the slightest bit of a worried look.
The fire breathing dragon is still there – the curiosity that warms my heart is still there. The willingness to attack a new challenge is there – but it’s hard for you now.
I can let just about anyone ride you lately. I see you when you think about being naughty but instead choose to forgive a heavy hand, an unbalanced seat. You look at me and we both register your good humor. I’m grateful for it.
I need you to be friends with the new horse. I need you to re-assure him that he’s safe here. And you do. If somebody told me 10 years ago that you would be the horse I rely on to calm an old horse I would have laughed heartily.
Because 10 years ago, I wasn’t able to see your whole value. I saw a brilliant, hot tempered horse. I didn’t know about the sweetness, I didn’t know that the scary things would leave emotional scars on you. I didn’t know how much you would mean to me.
So eat well my friend. Take good care of your timid neighbor and tomorrow, we will take a short ride to keep us both loose and limber and I will bask in the honor that you have given me – the lessons, the generosity, the heaping mounds of humility that you foisted on an unaware ego.
Thank you my friend.