The foal came early

So small she couldn't get up

Dried by hand and helped to her feet

She nursed and determined to stand on her own

Two years later, a beautiful race horse

She stands in the gate to run her first race

The woman who gently had raised her

In a hospital bed, a phone to her ear

Her husband at the local turf club

In a tender act of love so dear

Holds the phone to the speaker

As furlong, by furlong, the race is called

"They're off!" He calls

And out she flies

In and around she makes her way

As her owner's tears fall on the hospital gown

The little filly is across the line first

All pumped up and proud of herself

But her equine pride in no way compares

To the joy that she has given my sister