Jughead by Bev



February 9 1980 ------ April 6 1998

Arab Gelding

"Farewell To A Friend"


The first time I saw him an alarm went off in my head.

"Don't buy the first one look at some others instead,"

But my heart thought it had to have its two cents worth as well

And I dug out my checkbook in spite of that warning bell


His breeding was great his conformation almost just right

Shimmering slick with his black bay coat socks of glist'ning white

I fell in love with the way he looked; so arrogant and proud

With more snap and sparkle than should be legally allowed.


But the gentleness in his eyes even more than his pride

Reached into my soul forming a bond of trust that never died.

Though rowdy and coltish a wee bit pushy now and then

The kindness of his heart was triumphant time and again.


He tried my patience once or twice and kept me on my toes

While training him to ride of course we had our highs and lows.

He came out from under me a time or two it is true,

Mostly my fault from doing things I knew I should not do.


There were no trophies and no ribbons from a horse show ring

But hours of pleasure that a really good horse can bring.

Endless times my nagging concerns were all but rubbed away

With shedding hair and dust the curry comb removed that day.


For years we shared the trails my trusted arab friend and me,

But retirement in lush pasture for him was not to be.

At eighteen years the vet said there was no hope no known cure

For the horror that was suffocating this life so pure.


Much I owed him for hours in the saddle all the joy

A peaceful end for this gentle soul my beautiful boy.

Grief and sadness weighing so heavily upon my heart,

With a final hug a loving pat my friend and I did part,


I long to stroke his silky neck a kiss from his velvet nose,

Or see him nibble petals from a softly withered rose.

I miss his whinny each morning sometimes I call his name,

But now he has his shady meadow will never again be lame.


I am sure he has knee deep grass and nary a fly in sight,

Never wears a sweaty blanket or feels a cinch too tight.

I hope the angels feed him crunchy carrots now and then.

And lots of hugs and kisses until our trails meet again.

-Bev McAllister


In Memory Of Khe Judah Feroukh

aka "Jughead"