I was pregnant with Bug at the same time Blaze was expecting her 1st colt. Just a tall, lanky quarter horse. We had bred her to Britton's beautiful paint Tennessee Walking horse. I'd stand out by the fence and commiserate with her on the woes of pregnancy. Pete would laugh at me and tell me it's just not the same with animals. But we "girls" knew better.
He was born, as most colts, with too much leg for his body. But he was a tri-colored beauty! He had the gate. He was a natural. Pete named him D Boy in honor of his recently departed brother, Danny Boy.
D Boy's eyes would sparkle with mischief when me and the Bug would make our rounds to water the animals. He'd be waiting to snatch the hose out of the trough, just as soon as I'd let go of it. Then he'd throw back his head and laugh at me. I'd shake my finger at him and tell him he was bad. Eventually broke him of that habit by rubbing his nose hard with my thumbs when he'd come in close to bite the hose.
He grew and he grew. He was splendid. A joy to watch. He filled out and got the muscles and neck to match those legs. As he grew, we came up with new games to play while I filled the trough with water. One was "give me nose sugie." I'd say the phrase. He'd stick his nose between the boards. And I'd bend over and plant a kiss on top of his nose.
One day it was unbearably hot as I stood out there. I leaned over and rested my forehead against a pole. Soon, D Boy had stuck his head through in order to see my "hidden" face. When I realized he had "looked" for me and found me, I said "peek-a-boo!" He bobbed his head in reply. And a new game was formed. I'd get my face in close behind a board or a post and say "Where's Mama?" And he'd look for me.
He remained a stud horse. Very gentle by nature. Has a son that is almost his twin. Only more high strung and nervousy. Bug would climb the rails of the fence and give him mimosa leaves he loved. Or pears. Whatever she knew he'd think was a treat. We often foundher in that horse lot with that stud. No amount of warnings or whippings could discourage her. And no harm ever befell her.
Friday, I came home mid afternoon. Bubba was making his rounds outside. Noticed D Boy didn't look right. Had been rolling. Pete called vets. I ran after medicine. D Boy fought gallantly to keep his footing. But in the end, he succumbed to the colic. Too far along, I suppose, before we knew and intervened. We were all with him. We are all much accustomed to loss, but it was Bug's first time to witness death as it occurs.
He's buried at the back of the property. Underneath big, tall pines. I've requested that Jesus use him on Judgment Day, if at all possible. He'd make some saint a fine mount!
"Have you given the horse strength, or clothed his neck with quivering mane? Have you made him able to leap forward like a locust? His majestic snorting is something to hear! He paws the earth and rejoices in his strength, and when he goes to war, he is unafraid and does not run away though the arrows rattle against him, or the flashing spear and javelin. Fiercely he paws the ground and rushes forward into battle when the trumpet blows. At the sound of the bugle he shouts 'Aha!' He smells the battle when far away. He rejoices at the shouts of battle and the roar of the captain's commands."
- from God's answer to Job from the whirlwind: Job 39:19-25