There were a couple before her, and many many after her, but one little pony stole my heart and not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. She was a bay welsh cob cross, with a broken dorsal stripe, a nose as soft as velvet, and a lucky black spot on the top of her rump. She had been a rental trail pony and after her mouth was cranked on, her ribs were kicked in, and regularly returning to the barn for a beating every time she took off with a paying rider, the owner called the slaughter house. She sat along the road with a lone cow, peaking out behind her fuzzy forelock, awaiting a fate that was unjust.
But it wasn’t the meat truck that pulled up. A riding instructor passing by stopped to saved her, and as she clambered into the trailer, her whole world changed. She came to live at a large dressage barn, and decided to change her naughty ways to become a schooling pony for children. The children learned to steer with their seat, use gentle hands, and respectfully held her responsible for going where they wanted.

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Then, one late fall day, we met. At 9 years old, I had never had a riding lesson before. I trudged through the freezing mud to the back of the never ending pasture, pushing my way through the herd of tall horses, carefully hiding the halter behind my back and clutching the uncut carrot like it was my lifeline. At 13.2 hands, she wasn’t easy to find amongst the warmbloods, thoroughbreds, trakehners, and lippizzaners, but as the herd moved away, she looked up at me with her big brown eyes.

I mucked stalls, hauled hay bales, sweep the longest barn aisles, and balanced on 5 gallon buckets to groom an endless amount of horses to add up my hours for a chance to ride the bay pony. It was difficult to watch the other kids skip off to ride her for their lessons, but all was forgotten when it was my turn.

Two years past and the riding instructor decided to retire, selling her farm and all of her horses. I knew I didn’t have enough pennies in my piggy bank, and that the old pony had to be worth thousands and thousands of dollars. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and as every day passed, more and more parents in fancy clothes made offers for the pony. I held on tight to the bay pony’s reins as I heard the riding instructor tell every parents she would consider their offer, terrified that I would have to let go of my best friend.

I didn’t know how I was going to say goodbye.

It was the third day of Hanukkah, a crisp winter day with blue skies and a undisturbed new blanket of snow. Lunches were being packed for school and snow gear was being dragged up from the stairwell to make the trek to the bus stop. Then the phone rang. It was the riding instructor, “calling to confirm with my parents about that weekends riding lesson” and something about hay. I passed the phone and kept packing my bag for school.
I didn’t go to school that day. An hour later, an open rickety metal trailer backed down our icy driveway. The ramp dropped with a clatter and a little bay pony reared her head with a new found spunk as she backed out of the darkness. All along the riding instructor knew she wanted the pony to live out her retirement with me, and as every offer came in, she politely declined, knowing we were meant to be together. She kept it a surprise and no Hanukkah present has ever been as grand!

The little pony was my whole world. She was naughty in chasing my mother around the pasture, or never wanting my mother to catch her after rolling under the fence and coming to the house windows looking for snacks. She would pin her ears and show her teeth to anyone she didn’t like and she would bang her hooves on the stall walls in demand of breakfast should she think you were planning to hit the snooze button. She thought the llamas next door were not to be trusted and would blow at them, tail flagged like an Arabian stallion, but would proudly lead our daily rides down the dirt road, cat, dogs, geese, and roosters in tow.

She would come trotting up the pasture nickering when I got home from school. She was patient on the days I needed her to burry my face in her mane as I cried. She occupied herself with changing my hair style as I sat leaning against her knees telling her about my day. She would lay her head in my lap as we lay in the pasture sunbathing together with the barn cat. She would follow me loyally through the wooded trails and as I would striped her of her tack after a long ride, she would happily saunter behind me as I carried her tack up the last hill before home. And even as the gray hairs replaced her bay coat, we were still able to attend the 4H horse camps and win a handful of blue ribbons at the local shows.

She was never anything special to look at. She had a sway back like no other, cow hocked in the back and pigeon toed in the front. She had a collection of scars that turned white with time and she forgave me every time I cut her mane short to look more like a dressage pony. But she was my best friend.
We used to think the instructor rescued her from the slaughter house, that I rescued her from the snotty lesson kids that didn’t love her as much as their blue ribbons, but in the end, it was the pony that rescued me.

She was supposed to live forever, but just shy of her 40th birthday, I unwilling said goodbye and laid her to rest beneath an apple tree. I whispered a promise to her that I would find happiness and that I would live everyday a better day, for her. I keep my promises, and even after 14 years, that promise is what often continues to rescue me.

Once a year, in honor of her, of the love she gave to me, and the happiness many rescue horses give to their owners, I give away a photoshoot. The memories with your beloved best friend are worth more then anyone could imagine and those need to be photographed so you can treasure them forever, as I treasure the few I have of my pony.

What is included in the FREE GIVEAWAY:

One MOMENTO Package (a $275 value) and travel within 1.5 hours of North Muskegon, MI.

Additional travel will be at a charge of $25/hr. Opportunities to upgrade your package to receive a larger collection of images and the chance to purchase Fine Art Prints & Products will be available once the completed gallery is delivered (approximately 2-3 weeks following the photoshoot).

A winner will be chosen on Monday, February 17, 2020 and a photoshoot will be scheduled for March 2020. Please share this post and stay tuned for the winner!!