The Biggest Little Cowboy
I will cry several times as I write this.
Not because I’m a weeny. Not because I’m an over emotional girl. But because I’m so proud of my little cowboy. More proud than I thought I could every be about anything in my life.
See- tears already.
If you’ve read any of my past entries about my little old appy, you know how his heart has touched mine. How much I trust him and treasure him. You know that over the winter his age caught up with him. His arthritis, old injuries.
Bowen therapy, MSM and other supplements have kept him comfortable enough in his pasture to give him a nice last spring. I’ve done a “natural” supplement that helps with pain, but he was still pretty bad so I stopped. I have been tempted to bute. But I can’t stand the idea of giving myself Tylenol every day and just hurting my body more, and it’s doubly difficult for me to feel ok about doing that to him. And his digestion suffers enough as it is, I don’t want to add an ulcer in that equation.
My almost 8 year old son asked, “mom, can I have Nez? I’d really love if he could be my first horse.”
“Well, son” I explained “Nez won’t be with us much longer. Are you sure you want your first horse to be around for such a short amount of time?”
More tears… I’ll be lucky if I can finish typing this.
I was humbled as he explained to me that he didn’t care if it was only a month. He wanted to make sure that Nez knew how much he was loved. He wanted to make up for all the time that Nez didn’t know love so that all he could take with him to the afterlife was the feeling of love.
This little cowboy of mine explained to me the regrets he had from when our dog was put down a few years ago. He feels sad that he wasn’t there to hold our dog’s head in his lap as he passed. He want’s Nez’ last thoughts to be of happiness and love and having his face held by his little boy.
My son regrets that we waited so long to have our dog put down. The dog had a tumor in his mouth. We spent countless hours in the vet’s office… they kept removing parts of the tumor to keep him comfortable as long as possible, but without removing his lower jaw, there was no way to get all of the cancer. So it was a waiting game. In the end, he was thin and had no energy. Finally one morning the tumor started bleeding and wouldn’t stop. That was his last day. My little cowboy does not want that kind of end for Nez.
I don’t know how he can be such a compassionate child. It escapes me how he can be so selfless and have such big ideas and convictions. How he can be so brave.
So the little cowboy’s first horse is a horse that he’ll have for less than a month. Granted we’ve had him a few years and they’ve spent plenty of time together. But now, they are inseparable. The boy headed out to the pasture with a halter over his shoulder. The spotty pony that nickers at him and hobbles up the hill to meet him.
Lot’s of brushing and feet cleaning. A pony that once was skittish and scared basks in the magic of a child’s love and attention. A pony that once jumped at every little sound and swish of a fly, never moves a foot as this little cowboy loves on him and gently removes the mud and dirt.
The little cowboy is learning how to tack up himself and they ride around the arena slowly together. The spotty pony has the look on his face like he is carrying precious cargo. Never has he been so in his element. Nez has a hard time walking back down the hill to the barn, so the boy goes slow.
More brushing. Lot’s of whispering and I don’t know what they are saying to each other, but it is important.
The little cowboy walks him down to the pasture… they creep along slowly as the boy waits for the hobbling horse. The boy takes off the halter and laughs and laughs as the spotty pony nickers and nickers. The pony sniffing every pocket the boy has. Looking for a peanut butter cracker or cookie that must be hiding just for him. And yes, the boy pulls it from it’s hiding spot and the pony gobbles it up.
Countless times I have hoped that spotty horse would be “sound enough” to make it another year as my son’s horse. And countless times I am reminded by my son’s courageous words that he wants Nez’ last days to be days like this. Not days of overwhelming pain. No mom, we can’t wait until he can’t get around the pasture anymore.
This Friday they have a photo shoot together. My son has his outfit all picked out… a matching saddle blanket and tack. He’s very excited.
“Mom, I can’t imagine my life without horses. I think I’ll always have a horse, even when I’m old. Like you.”
Thanks for that. :~) No, really. THANK you for that. The most precious gift that I could receive is watching the love for a horse grow and blossom and witness what it does to grow the spirit of my little cowboy.