Horse owners have been heard to say, "If you hate your children, buy them a pony." This pearl of wisdom is usually followed by vigorous nods and laughter all around. But I don't agree...
The greatest horse I ever had was a pony. His name was Struttin', and strangely enough, it suited him. He was a pony in every sense of the word--in stature (he was barely 14.2 hands), as well as in pedigree (his father was an Arab, but his mother was a full-blooded Connemara). Struttin' was extremely curious, sassy and playful throughout his life... a beautiful dark bay with one white foot and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He could bite and he could buck--but Struttin' was my 4-legged son, and I loved him madly.
He was incredibly smart; Struttin' could cut on barn lights and fans, and open gates and doors. (This often got him in trouble... he would turn other horses loose, and then they would try to kill him.) Ponies are generally known for being intelligent (although most folks refer to them as crafty or wily). I knew Struttin's Connemara dam, and she was no exception. But Struttin' inherited a certain amount of genius from his sire's side as well; he was descended from an Arab circus horse that starred in a Roman riding act, but his favorite tricks were jumping rope and counting...
Most horses understand the words Walk, Trot, Canter, and Whoa; Struttin' had a much bigger vocabulary. One day my husband and I were working on the horses' pasture fence, and my "son " was trying to help me. He kept following me along the fence line, getting underfoot and pulling T-post caps off the posts faster than I could put them on... I looked him in the eye and said "Struttin'! Why don't you go help your father?!" He immediately wheeled around, marched straight up to Liam and starting pulling tools from his tool belt and dropping them on the ground. Sometimes Struttin' was a little too smart!
I remember one occasion when Struttin' REALLY WAS helpful. In the pasture each day, he always pawed the ground until he had a nice mound of loose dirt to roll in. One day, just joking around with Siobhan, I stood near him while he was getting ready to roll, and pawed the ground with my heel. He watched me for a few seconds, then walked over and gently nudged me out of the way so HE could paw in my place. When he had enough dirt piled to satisfy him, he walked back to his own dirt pile and rolled. (Apparently I wasn't doing it right!)
Struttin' had a great sense of humor...Siobhan showed him in his first halter class when he was 2 years old, and she was 10. About that time, Struttin' was truly going through the terrible twos, so my family and I held our breath the entire time they were in the ring. Siobhan is a real trouper, and she got Struttin' through his paces without a hitch...
He walked and trotted in a straight line, to and from the judge, when asked; he stopped on a dime when Siobhan asked him to "whoa", and stood quietly with his feet squared while the judge walked around him several times. We thought it was all over when the judge put his hand in front of Struttin's mouth, and the Family Freak Show gasped aloud...
The judge was lucky. Anywhere else, the poor man would've lost a finger or two--but in the show ring, the little changeling just stood there with a pleasant look on his face and his lips clamped tightly together. To our amazement, bad boy Struttin' won 1st place in the class, and Siobhan was awarded a trophy and a blue ribbon...and then, on their way out the gate, Struttin' got a merry glint in his eye and bit poor Siobhan on the bum. Struttin' was pleased with himself, Siobhan was mortified, and the audience roared with laughter. You've got to admit--the pony had a sense of humor...
Struttin' had a mischievous streak as well--and it usually surfaced when a vet was nearby. On one occasion, Struttin' very gently took a young vet's hat off his head with his teeth--then held his head so high that the vet couldn't quite reach it. Every time the poor guy stopped jumping and grabbing for the hat, Struttin' would bob his head and wave it at him at him, and it would start again. It was quite comical to watch, and we had to laugh. Siobhan finally took pity on him and gave his hat back; as we watched him drive away, we knew we'd never see that vet again...
The next vet made the mistake of standing in front of Struttin's stall with his back turned and his stethoscope around his neck. Struttin' quietly stretched his neck out until he could just reach the stethoscope...then he bit down and backed up until the vet was pinned flat to the door. The poor man's stethoscope was pulled tight around his neck, and his face was beet red. Of course Siobhan and I collapsed in the barn aisle, helpless with laughter. (How could we NOT?!) We never knew if it was anger or lack of oxygen that turned his face so red...
Struttin' was just a "happy-go-lucky" pony. He loved his life, and he truly enjoyed every minute of it--even when it involved work. Sometimes he was a little heathen--rowdy, rambunctious, and sassy. But he also was loving, loyal, and kind. He eventually did outgrow the biting and bucking. And he always, Always made me smile. How could anybody NOT love a pony like Struttin'?! To me, he was worth his weight in gold...
"Gypsy gold does not chink and glitter. It gleams in the sun and neighs in the dark. --attributed to the Claddaugh gypsies of Galway
No comments:
Post a Comment