As long as I can remember I have loved horses. From a small child I had many plastic horses to play with. And play with them I did. I had horses, cows, pigs, chickens and barns to put them in. I used to envy my fingers as I would put them across one of my plastic horses' back because I wanted to be my fingers riding that big horse. My Dad was forever having to glue back a leg or a tail or part of a mane that would break off of my horses from continual use and putting weight against them. He tried everything he could think of to keep them back together but it never quite worked. But I didn't care because I played with them leg or no leg. I was just thrilled to have them to occupy my time.
I had big dreams of some day owning lots and lots of horses but really didn't think it would ever happen. Then one day when I was about 6 years old my Dad came home with a pony. A woman that worked in his dental office's daughter had won the pony in a raffle but they had no place to keep him. They were keeping him in their garage which, didn't work well. He was constantly getting out and the kids would have to go and round him up. Needless to say she was happy to barter services with my dad (he was a dentist) for dental work for her kids for the pony. The kids had named him Lucky because they felt they were lucky to have won him (apparently he was named before they had to catch him every day). I kept the name of Lucky and soon settled into calling him LuckyPony. He was a very special pony. He was a Shetland gelding, chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail, and he was perfect for me and I was perfect for him.
I quickly learned how to bridle and saddle him and before you could blink your eyes I was riding him. I guess I just taught myself because I don't ever remember not knowing how to ride a horse. We went everywhere together. While most of the neighborhood kids rode their bikes or walked to get to their destination I rode LuckyPony. Everyone in the neighborhood knew who he was and when I would go to visit a friend I would just tie him in the yard and all was well. He was truly my best friend.
3 comments:
But you didn't mention how huge his head was for his little body. Poor Lucky Pony!
That was a Lucky Pony. I'm sure he preferred the woods over a dumb old garage.
My mom had a pony when she was little. She painted its mane & tail with red barn paint when she was little, and they had to wait for it to grow out. She and her little brother used to play hide-and-seek with her pony. They would hide, she would seek; it didn't work the other way around.
That is sooooo cool. I love this story. I wanted a pony sooo bad as a child. I didnt get my horse until I was 23 but love em all. I just love this story. Thank you. I still have my model horses from when i was a child. My grandma crocheted them blankets etc, most still have their boxes and everything.
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