MAJOR ‘N ME AN’ TH’ SNOWSTORM

MAJOR ‘N ME AN’ TH’ SNOWSTORM
    
By Donna Penley

Major was a geldin’ my dad bought for my birthday;
He was twelve an’ so was I, in summer 1950.
He was muscular, yet wiry, an’ he had a heart o’ gold;
An’ he saved my life that winter, so his story must be told
We’d moved t’ Kansas from Missouri, had t’ leave my horse behind;
Had moped an’ cried, so dad said a horse for me he’d find.  (So, he took me to a sale)
Paid $800 dollars for th’ geldin’, an’ herein lies th’ tale.

Major had been a ranch horse, an’ a good one in his day;
Hard times had made him poor an’ thin, his coat a faded bay.
So, we took him home, deformed him, an’ fed him 
Mighty good;
An’ it wasn’t long ‘till that ol’ horse showed his King Ranch blood.
That summer was idyllic, we traveled many a trail;
Got t’ know an’ trust one another as we traversed hill an’ dale.
Then summer faded into fall, an’ winter’s blast was nigh;
Little did I realize my horse an’ I might die!

On a venture in a blizzard that came up fast an’ hard;
Ol’ Blue Norther came a’ hellin’, an’ my dad let down his guard.
To validate my dad’s part in this saga, I must say
Th’ weather hadn’t socked in yet when he sent us out that day.
To a pasture three miles west of home, t’ pick
Up two ol’ cows,
An’ their yearlin’ doggie’s, of which my dad was proud.
We made th’ three miles in short time, then th’ snow began t’ fall;
So hard it was getting’ hard t’ see,
O’er my eyes I pulled my shawl.  

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