My First Pony
The world of print, and now also the internet, is filled with heart-warming tales of the bonds of love that develop between a child and her or his first pony. They relate the absolute trust between mount and master, the obstacles they overcome together, and the life-long memories of all the happy times on the trail or in the ring.
If you're looking for such a story, forget it. You won't find it here. Here, you'll discover what many first-time buyers find out the hard way: most ponies are stubborn, cantankerous, and mischievous.
I got my first pony when I was 7 years old. My Mom eventually became one of the most knowledgeable horse buyers in the state, but at the time she was just starting out. She bought "Casey" (or maybe it was "K.C.") because he was small, cute, and cheap. Boy, did we learn that in a pony, those qualities just aren't enough.
"Casey" was a gorgeous little brown and white paint. My mom went the whole nine yards, getting him with a pony saddle, pad, and bridle. At the time, my parents boarded their horses on a farm in Clarkston, MI. They got that pony at an auction on a Friday night. The next day we headed out to the farm for my first-ever ride. My step-dad put me on, and my mom lead Casey and me around the yard for a few minutes. Casey genuinely seemed gentle and willing. So convincing he was, that after a few minutes making sure I understood how to use the reins and the various queues, my mom let me take the controls while she let go. That's when Casey's true nature was revealed.
He immediately took off running straight for the nearest pasture fence. This fence was not only made of barbed wire (which I still hate to this day) but was electrified to boot. I screamed "Whoa! Whoa!" while I tried to pull back on the reins the way I'd been shown. I kept on screaming after that, but there were no more intelligible words, at least none that should ever come out of the mouth of a 7 year old. I really thought Casey was going to run right through the fence. Silly me.
I'll give him this much - Casey could stop on a dime. Which he did, right in front of the fence. He combined that awesome stopping power with one almighty buck while he dropped his head. I took flight just like I'd been shot out of a canon. I did a complete somersault in mid-air, and landed tush-first on that fence. Talk about tearing myself a new one - I did that in the most literal sense possible.
So there I was, half electrocuted, with torn pants, bleeding, trying not to cry, while that damned pony ran around laughing his fool head off. To add insult to injury, he would not be caught again. It took half a dozen mounted cowboys and a lariet to get him back under control.
You'd think that after that experience, I would have avoided horses forever. The truth is, once I'd gotten over the initial shock and pain, I was determined to become a better rider. Plus, the story-telling value of the incident was not lost on me.
#TheHorseTradersSon
Image Attribution:
HTML By Dagur Brynjólfsson (Flickr: IMG_8888) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons