I’m feeling punk, so I’m rerunning a post from an earlier iteration of the blog. At this point, Rodney had been with us for two months & was still named Roscoe.
Roscoe’s Lament
(With apologies to Theodor Seuss Geisel)
I don’t like my shoe, the one on the right.
A nail in the front is a little too tight.
Call up the man and remove it, please do.
I’ll stick my foot in a bucket and leave you to stew.
I know that you hope I will be a star,
For a life with no griefs, go buy a car.
The poem – or attempt thereof – originally appeared as part of a column for the USEA, Back To Eventing: Part 4, New Horse Blues.
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Gratuitous Sunset Pic
Taken during an evening dog walk around the pasture. The embiggened version shows Lady off to the left.
Virtual Brush Box 