The first time I met Ed he was fat, lazy and just plain rude. We rationed his food, started him on an exercise program and watched his weight. He needed to lose about 200-300 lbs. He had been on pasture grass for most of his life. Ed was a horse.
Training Ed was kinda like riding a train that left the rails. You knew once you figured him out, you could control him. He had some crazy nervous ticks. He tried to buck a little, but he was too fat. He wouldn't break into his right lead, but that came with time. The one tick that stuck was the flapping. Ed flapped his lips and made a sound like an outta tune Harley. It was really annoying, at first, but then it got to where I didn't think about it, until someone would point it out to me. We weren't really sure that Ed could run very fast, but finally, one night, Ed showed his stripes. That booger could run. He even started looking at cattle and stopping like a heal horse. When I was home this summer, I roped off Ed and Simba. Both have ticks and niether was quite finished, but it was dang fun. By the end of my break, I was even roping like I normally should. The last time I rode Ed, he worked pretty dang good. Good enough that Dad said he was gonna start heading off Ed.
I called Dad to tell him about the great trade I made today. Dad sounded distant. I asked him how things was and he said, "Rough. The snow was bad, but its melting. This morning when I went out to feed, I didn't have to feed Ed."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because he was dead. He died last night sometime. Dangdest thing."
I was so stunned I didn't even cuss. Just a sad thing.
I hate to say it, but I felt worse off after that news than a whole lot of things that I have heard.
Via Con Dios, Ed.