“He was a beautiful pony and I loved him!”

Apparently one of the things our mothers were told back in the Adopto-Classical Period (Baby Scoop Era) was that if they only gave us up, our new parents would provide us with a swimming pool and/or….

A PONY. A real live freakin pony!!!

I’ll admit it: up through age 15 or so I would willingly have given up my heritage, all of my parents, my friends, Abraham Lincoln, Jesus, my immortal soul–anything, anything, if I could only have a horse.

What changed at age 15? I got one. And, by golly, I am not entirely unsure that little red bastard did not save my life.  He taught me responsibility. He was my one true friend. It was obvious to everyone around me what a difference he had made in my attitude, my grades, everything.

A few years later, I was given the “choice” between keeping him in my life and going to college. I type “choice” with quotation marks because I don’t remember a single conversation about my future from age old-enough-to-understand-English on up that didn’t include my attending college. So I sold him. Below is one of the last photos taken of us together.

His name was Rebel.

I loved him so much I had to sell him.

Click to enlarge the image and see how happy I was to relinquish him to more worthy owners. I “chose” my parents’ love over what I loved, just like my first mother did.

Who else actually got a pony? How did that work out?



Filed under What It's Like

5 responses to ““He was a beautiful pony and I loved him!”

  1. I loved horses to and went to friends of the family to ride “my” horse every single Sunday. Yes, she was my best friend and I will never forget those times. We lived in town so no way to have a horse unless we stabled elsewhere.

  2. I lived in town, too…Memphis kinda grew up around the stable in the background of my photo. It’s since been torn down and replaced with a junior high school, though. Ugh.

    I’m glad you had that experience. All these years later, very few of my friends measure up to that horse–and the ones who do are definite keepers.

  3. Sundays were very special to me – up early and mom or dad would drop me off and the wonderful friend and I would go groom and saddled the horses, then ride out in the pastures and through their woods of their property for 5 0r 6 hours. Then after we were done grooming head into her kitchen for hot chocolate and english muffins. My escape and renewal each week – just a magical time.

  4. Pingback: Things DO CHANGE « Joy’s Division

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