Girl Gets Three Retired Gift Horses


Girl Gets Three Retired Gift Horses 

If Wishes Were Horses, Seekers Could Ride

(Once upon a time) A young girl knew what she wanted: a horse by her side.

Hopefully, an adult would boost her into the saddle, so she could ride.

For Hours and months she wished for a tame, trained and affordable horse.

She often searched want ads and horse sale bills. It was like an obstacle course.

She was very young. She lacked funds, but she did hear parental caution.

Also, she was an untrained rider, so her ‘wishin’ wasn’t ‘washin’.

Perhaps that dreaming first grader, going on 12, was hooked on folly.

For Christmas she begged for a horse, while having no desire for a dolly.


Needing to be Needed: Donors, Donated and Recipients

An idea occurred, renewing hope, knowing Great-Gramp’s horse Daisy

Was pained by Rumatiz and age. She knew the horse was slow, but not lazy.

A double miracle occurred. Gramps and Daisy both retired that same year.

Here’s “looking a gift horse in the mouth,” by a very young child, so sincere.

“Oh Gramps, this is my happiest day,” while considering the loving source.

Oh girl’s best friends and partner and confidant, a gift of an old Paint horse.

She’d feed her by snitching cattle feed from Dad or by guess and by golly.

This was her constant summer companion. Girl’s best friend wasn’t a collie.


Consider the Source of the Retreat Horse

Many, many miles and smiles, hours and months, sun-ups and sunsets, grins and frowns

Were shared. The young girl talked and whispered to her horse, about life’s up and downs.

The two were cautious. They followed the safety rules her parents did enforce.

A joy ride through early life, on the quiet prairie, with her gentle horse.

Unbeknownst to her, it was her last ride, as old Daisy took ill and died.

She tried to hide her emptiness and we can surmise, she was teary-eyed.

It was a time of reflection  and remembrance. She was melancholy;

With more Christmas wishes, she left a note in the evergreen and holly.


Donations Gladly Accepted to Fill a Void/Hello Holly

On a trail ride, on a borrowed horse, a kindly gent rode up to her Dad.

He asked if she’d lost her best friend, that old retread horse? He had something to add.

He had an old roan that’s past the age of raising colts. His kids moved to town.

She stands with a lonesome stare. She feels useless and forlorn. Her ears are down.

From what I’ve heard you could be life’s gift to her.  I’d like to give you that horse.

Not a rocket roan, she’s just your speed. She’s by the gate with a look of remorse.

In her prime, she pulled hayracks. She’s aged, so she’s not a hot tamale.

Just lead her, ride her. That’s what she was born for.  All these years she’s been called Holly.


We Can Learn From Fulfillment of a Child’s Idea

She took possession. Holly was overqualified, gentle, fully trained.

Just two beings that needed to be needed.  Their friendship was never strained.

Holly willingly stood by the fence so that young Queen could climb on her throne.

It was a gift horse looking her in the mouth. They were no longer alone.

A nanosecond to decide, she took the roan, another retread, she’d own.

That was a nostalgic human interest story.  We know her pride shone.

Once could catch a glimpse of them in the evening shadows. The grand finale

Of a proud owner with a last ride on a trusty old roan named “Holly.”


There is a Free Ride/Own a Roan

The Process of Donated Retired Horses Snowballed

Another loss, another void, and yet both horse’s demise were fully expected.

Two willing and obedient mounts were hist’ry. The girl was dejected.

Another helpful neighbor offered a well-trained, but retired, old white horse.

No strings attached, it was just a gift. She would need help saddling him, of course.

A horse and rider sunset silhouette was seen, doing what he’s born to do.

Her tears were dried by another kind person and the old had become new.

Daisy was pushing up daisies, Holly a mem’ry and Christmas was jolly.

The new, old, December gift, would gladly replace Daisy & Holly.


Yes Veronica, There is a Santa Claus Mentality

At age 8, the definition of ‘retired’ and ‘donated’ and ‘life’ and ‘death’

Became personally understood and profound ‘terms.’  Those two ‘oat-breaths’

Were replaced by a ‘horse of different colors,’ an offer she couldn’t refuse.

Horse lovers everywhere could learn what someone, somewhere could re-use.

The thoughtfulness and generosity were discussed and secrets were told.

By a grateful young country girl to her buddy. They’re friends, the young and the old.

She loves to talk to the animals. She’s aware of the grand finale.

Now, she’s riding and bonding with “Snowball,” a ‘temp’ replacement for Holly.


P.S.  Participating in Ride of Another Dimension

Gramps and Gram both left this earth that spring, carried by horse-drawn wagon.

Veronica rode Snowball as they followed, but the old horse was laggin’.

Snowball rode a trailer. A fitting tribute to their grand finale,

Accompanied by horse and riders.  She has mem’ries of them, and Daisy and Holly.


C 2005 Orv Alveshere