In the spirit of Thanksgiving I would like to share a poem I wrote years ago, and it STILL applies….
Ode the parents of the horse show brats,
forced to listen to whining chat,
from children on Shetlands: pinto and bay,
to teenagers on Thoroughbreds: chestnut and gray.
To those who stand by the warm-up ring gate
with water and fly spray,
which the horses hate.
To those patient parents,
who wipe the green spit
from the horse’s mouth
as he munches on his bit.
For those parents who have mastered
the pitchfork and rake.
To those whose bank account
we brats often brake.
To those supportive parents,
who manage to point out the good in the worst of rides,
and stand at the finish flags
with the utmost pride.
Running from show office to trailer
one hundred times an hour,
but never letting the heat, rain or wind
make their task sour.
Performing all these thankless chores
without even a thought
to the “thank you” the brat
mistakenly forgot.
So Ode the Parents of the Horse Show Brats,
The true power behind the team,
And that is that.
-Nicole A. Musmanno
