Pony 101

My sister on Nipper. He of the quick feet. And sharp teeth.

Horses are smart.

A little too smart.

At times, they are almost human in their need to be entertained.

Their ability to problem solve.

And their dislike of anything work-related.

Especially ponies. The height-challenged members of the horse family.

One such pony, Shay, a little grey Welsh/Arab, was uncannily adept at removing riders.

She would run herself along the fence wall, scrubbing off any hapless humans who may have been astride.

Or, barring that, would duck her head and drop her rider . . . any rider . . . onto the ground.

Fortunately, it was a short drop.

In fact, she was so clever at removal, that the only way she could be controlled was to blindfold her.

That made for an interesting ride.

Nipper, a small, black Shetland cross was known for two things.

His little . . . nippy . . . teeth. Thus the name.

And his own way of avoiding work.

Once his rider was aboard, he would immediately scurry – and I do mean scurry – under the clotheslines.

I should probably mention that there wasn't a lot of clearance.

Many a rider was quickly and neatly - with almost surgical precision – removed.

His patented technique was foiled however, when his rider, my sister, learned to duck.

Surprise turned to chagrin when he looked back after a clothesline pass and realized that his rider was still aboard.

Back to the drawing board.

Pinto, our cleverly named black and white Shetland pony, had the unique ability to ignore all attempts at enforcing a forward direction.

Or any form of speed.

Cajoling.

Kicking.

Shouting and screaming in frustration.

He was happily oblivious.

His downfall came when his rider – me – learned to lead him far, far from home.

Then mount up and turn his head back towards the barn.

Man, those little legs could go.

Star, another Shetland with a – go figure – star on his forehead, was actually quite well-mannered.

Until there were other horses around.

He was definitely one who was influenced by the company he kept. Then his innate talent would show itself.

He could ignore any and all attempts at enforcement-by-rein and follow the crowd.

Carrying his little, red-faced-with-anger passenger to the nearest far-away place.

When these ponies weren't being called upon to perform menial service, they could be found, at any and all hours, with their heads in the feed trough.

The only thing that surpassed their ability to avoid work was their ability to eat.

Why did we keep them around?

They were short and easy to get on.

They were gentle.

And if we could make them do what we wanted, we could handle any problem.

Anytime.

Anywhere.

Education by pony.

It should be a course in college.

And Shammy. Pony Perfection. She without faults . . .