"The Old Kid Pony"
Two years ago I turned him out, he got too old to ride.
He wasn't with the bunch today, that's how I knew he died.
I rode up on the highest hill, the day was cold and raw
From there I saw him lying dead, down in the biggest draw.
The kids had learned to ride on him, together they had fun.
He always brought them home from school, thru rain or snow or sun
If they fell off, he'd stop and wait. He didn't seem to care,
How much they thumped him in the ribs or hung on by his hair.
I rode up close to say goodbye, a horse like him is rare.
And something seemed to fill my throat to see him lying there.
I wish now I'd kept him in, he'd wintered out enough.
His teeth were gone, he was too old. The winter was just too rough.
As I sat there looking down on those old legs so trim,
I thought of all the miles they went and how we trusted him.
A horse to me is like a man, they're both the same inside.
The qualities we like in men, within the horse abide.
I knew I'd have to tell the boys their friend had passed away
To where he'd be a colt again with other kids to play.
So I thought as I rode on with eyes a little dim.
A boy would be a better man who had a friend like him.