A Christmas Present 40 Years in the Making

 

Like most little girls, every Christmas I asked for a real, live pony.  I would race to the Christmas tree with hope but there was never a pony under the tree.  It took years before I got my first horse but I never stopped wanting that perfect, adorable pony.

When my daughter was born my husband agreed to help me fulfill my pony tree someday when my little girl was ready for one. Late last year I as casually looking and found a great little pony, a well bred Welsh, older, been there done that, even went to Pony Finals. But it took me too long to try to convince Superhubs that she was the one and she was sold.

So I kept an eye out for a pony. And then I saw her.  A gorgeous little, chestnut Welsh mare, broke to ride, sweet and well bred.  She’s been with us a couple of weeks now and I am more in love with her each day.

My daughter loves that she can get on and off of her with just the mounting block, loves that she can get the saddle off on her own. Her barn name is Tara. She has a fancy registered name but we call her Tara. She terrorizes Cowboy and hangs out with Fox.  My daughter has already fallen off of her once, totally not Tara or Alex’s fault, just an accident. 

I hope we can do some lead line classes at some point and maybe some walk trot next year.  I already have dreams of pony foals dancing in my head.  

Keep it between the flags everyone. 

Pony Kisses

 The hardest part of loving is having to let go.  As the summer wore on Seneca made it more and more obvious that she was ready to rest. I chose a warm day in early September and had Superhubs take my daughter to a camp activity at her gymnastics gym so that I could be alone. Having to worry about other people can be overwhelming for me.  Welcome to my particular brand of anxiety. Yippee.

We had a party for Seneca the Sunday prior, letting everyone who loved the haughty bay mare say goodbye by spoiling her with treats. I tried to give her a piece of carrot cake but she literally turned her nose up at it.  I took loads of pictures of her and spent the morning just hanging out with her.  In the end she lay down quietly and slipped away as I stroked her neck. I clipped lots of pieces of her mane and tail and I’ll have jewelry made eventually.  I chose to have Seneca cremated so I could take her with us to the next farm. Her urn, a lovely carved wooden box with her name engraved on a brass plate sits on the table next to my bed. I touch it each night as I go to bed and each morning when I get up. 

She was lovely bay Queen and I will miss her terribly.  

Keep it between the flags everyone.