By Donna Penley
He saved my life one stormy night when the rain was pourin’ down;
Hailstones big as fighter’s fists, lightnin’ striking all around.
The cattle bawled in fear and pain, then they began t’ run;
An’ the little horse beneath me knew his job had just begun
Without waitin’ for a cue from me he made a calculated move,
Ran down th’ leaders of th’ herd, his bravery did prove!
We turned th’ cattle then, and th’ storm was almost past;
But neither I nor th’ little mustang saw the deep crevasse --
It seemed a long time that we fell, but we landed in soft ooze.
“Thank God for the rain”, I cried ‘cause we was only cut an‘ bruised.
But how were we gonna get outa there? I didn’t know where t’ start,
But that little horse named Pard, well, he had a lotta heart.
Th’ cattle that we’d turned looked down on us an’ bawled;
Then I said to the little horse, “now Pard, ya got to give your all.”
I grabbed hard onto his tail as he clawed his way to higher ground --
After a long time of slippin’ and slidin’ we made our way around
To the place where we had fallen. I looked down and felt a chill --
‘Cause had we fallen anywhere’s else, we’d a both been killed.
Well, we limped our way back to th’ ranch, both proud t’ be alive;
An’ when I told our story, I told the boys with pride:
“This here little mustang’s gonna leave th’ string,
‘Cause I’m buyin’ him from the boss man when I get paid this spring”.
Yeah, he saved m’ life on a stormy night when th’ rain was pourin’ down --
Hailstones big as fighter’s fists and lightning’ cloud t’ ground.
Now, little Pard belongs t’ me. He’s in my personal string.
An’ I know that if I ask ’im -- he can do most anything!!
Donna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer.
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