I filled out the entry form and hit send, then closed the computer and made a list of things to pack. Getting ready for an endurance ride always consists of a flurry of activity. Go, go, go. It wasn't until the initial frenzy died down that the date struck me. Rabbit Run was being held on March 18th. It was the five year anniversary of Ozzy's death. The realization hit like a ton of bricks.
The following weeks flew by and the knot in my stomach grew. The date felt like a sign. Would it be a good sign like the eagle I spotted on the last loop of the cold and snowy fifty at Foxcatcher, or a bad sign like the tree blocking the road on our way to the airport for Tevis? Only time would tell.
Thursday night I packed the trailer. I climbed in the truck and the engine roared to life. I pulled out of the driveway, heading for home. Sirius XM played on the Mosaic station, a leftover perk of the truck's last owner. From the moment of silence between songs, the familiar chords of The Goo Goo Dolls rose and filled the cab. Name. The song that always makes me think of my heart horse and his larger than life personality.
"I think about you all the time
But I don't need the same
It's lonely where you are, come back down
And I won't tell 'em your name"
I pulled into the driveway at home with tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I hear you, buddy," I whispered into the gray of the evening.
Good sign.
