Page 2 of Cowboy

For Benjamin, every day was the same. Wake up early, feed the animals, take a run with the other boys, go to school, do his homework, and go back out to the animals. He loved every second of it.

Racing toward the animal center, he arrived to see three police cars talking to Sniff and Lucy. Violet was crying against Striker’s chest, and Dex was holding Marie. He slowly walked toward them, and when Lucy saw him, she turned away.

“Cowboy,” said Sniff. “Son, we need to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong? Is Cinnamon sick?” he asked, looking for the mare around the paddock.

“No,” said Dex. “She got out of her stall last night. The lightning must have scared her. She got loose and was running on River Road. A truck headed to the city didn’t see her.”

Benjamin shook his head at the older man, backing up a few steps. He reached for his shoulders, squeezing him firmly.

“It couldn’t be helped, Benjamin. Both her legs were broken, and the only thing the sheriff could do was put her down. She was in too much pain.”

“No. No! Aunt Lucy could fix her or Aunt Dani. Aunt Violet, you could’ve fixed her, right?”

“Oh, baby, I wish I could have. Horses have to be able to stand, Benjamin,” said Violet. “With two broken legs, there was no way she would heal properly. There would have been too many complications.”

“Benjamin, we’re sorry, son. This is the hard part of working with animals when you love them so much. It’s hard to say goodbye.” The big tears were falling down his flushed cheeks when his father arrived, walking toward him.

“Benjamin, I’m so sorry,” said Blade.

“Dad,” he cried, falling into his father’s arms. Despite the size of the eleven-year-old boy, Blade picked him up and held him, crying for the pain in his son’s young body.

“I know, baby. I know.” He carried his son toward one of the ATVs, taking him back toward the cottages. The entire way, Benjamin sobbed, his heart cracking in two. Finally, Blade stopped the ATV in the middle of the path.

“What are we doing?” sniffed Benjamin.

“Did I ever tell you about a dog I had as a kid? His name was Bingo.” He stared at the red-rimmed eyes of his only child. There was nothing more heartbreaking than knowing you could do nothing to ease their pain. He understood his own mother more and more every day.

“No,” said Benjamin.

“Man, he was the best dog in the whole world. He would follow me to school, then run home. But every day, when I walked out of school, he was right there waiting for me. He would come with me to ball practice, he would chase me around the yard. He was amazing.”

“What happened to him?” asked Benjamin.

“Well, I’m not sure, but I think he was probably hit by a car,” said Blade. “He followed me to school one day, and when I came out, he wasn’t there. My mom and dad looked for him, put up flyers, everything. But we never found him.”

“That’s awful, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said with a sad grin. “Losing an animal is like losing a family member. It’s painful, but it also comes with beautiful memories. Every time I run with the guys and one of the dogs runs with us, I remember Bingo. It makes me smile. It’s funny, Benjamin, but when I became a Green Beret and I was sent to the most difficult assignments, I knew I would face losing teammates.”

“Did you?” he asked quietly.

“Unfortunately, I did. But losing Bingo prepared me for that. I knew what it would feel like, and I was still able to focus on the mission and grieve for my teammates at the same time.”

Benjamin looked down at his lap and thought about that. It seemed strange that he thought it might be easier to lose a teammate than another animal.

“Sniff said you should take a few days off,” said Blade. “They can make do without you for a while.” He nodded.

“Thanks, Dad. I won’t need a few days. The animals need me.”

His love of the animals didn’t wane after that day, but he did find himself not becoming tethered to them. He still wore his cowboy boots, but the idea of becoming a cowboy wasn’t as appealing to him anymore.

As he got bigger and bigger through high school, bulking up to a muscular two-hundred-and-ten pounds, he knew that he was meant to be a warrior. But he didn’t want to be a Green Beret like his father. No, he wanted to be a SEAL.

“I’m proud of you, Cowboy,” smirked Sniff at his trident pinning ceremony.

“Thanks, Sniff,” he grinned. “How’s the new mare?”

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