We owe so much to our horses.  Here’s a tribute to one of our best, written by Rachel Dillon.

 

Buster

I was just a greenhide rider

Another tourist from the east

Looking for adventure

Or a horseback ride at least

 

I felt honoured to be trusted

Enough to take your rein

To join in on a muster

Beneath the Cockburn range

 

I quickly came to realize

You were made of something special

Your flank aglow with copper

And heart of pure metal

 

Soft red muzzle, snip of white

Eyes dark as tarry coal

Hooves as hard as magnetite

Flames from hock to poll

 

Through deepest blackest water

You’d forge and lead the band

Swift and lithe and light

Earnest in command

 

You’d freeze the cattle in their tracks

With a steely head on stare

Take on the meanest crook horned steer

Call his bluff with a twitch of ear

 

Two-time winner of The Cup

Only one could match your stride

But Gundy, he too is gone

I treasure those Billabong rides

 

But it’s not only the memory of galloping free

That you have left behind

For I always knew that it was you

Who taught me how to ride

 

How to sit deep and to trust

In the wisdom and power below

How to be kind in asking of you,

To go where my feet couldn’t go

 

And if all you were required to do

Was take a day trip down the trail

You gave the same honest effort

Without fanfare, fuss or fail

 

Some mysterious horizon

Always seemed to hold your gaze

As though you were meant for Duty

A noble purpose to your days

 

Though I’ll miss and not forget you

I’m certain we’ll meet again

Buster, you were, to so many

A partner and a friend