Joc

I always said, if I ever had a horse
That never looked for buggers I'd get rid of him
When Joc came to live with us
He was scrawny and thin
But one look in his eyes
And his spirit was seen to be
Strong and keen
Now Joc wasn't big
As big goes
Only his heart and his want-to had limits
That came close to his desire to please
That's not to say he didn't have his roguish side
On cold mornings he liked to try me
Just to see
If I was as ready as he was,
But never to the point of being mean
Joc was my friend and companion on long hot days
He worked with me and never failed me
But always he shied from shadows
And looked behind trees ,
For the bugger that would get him
But was never there
Ask him to go, and he went
Ask him to catch, and he caught
Ask him to hold, and he held
But asked him to eat,
Get out of his way

His name came from my youngest
As she watched him one day
Standing by the water trough in his home, his pen
Dad, says she "Your horse looks strange,
Ears flopping and head low, as if asleep,
He looks like a mule, so his name should be Joc"
The vacant look on my face
Said I needed some more
So she finished by saying
"Don't you see Dad, Joc is French for Jack,
And Jack is short for Jackass,
And that's just what he looks like
standing out there"
So "Joc" stuck, and he came to be a friend,
A buddy, a work mate, and a sometimes,
When he looked for buggers,
Even a ..... Joc.
Jim Kitchens
Brady, Texas
1981