A Pony Tale...

 

  When I was twelve, I was blessed with the best friend a young girl could have. My own pony. She was a fairly large pony, 13.3 HH, and I thought she was the most beautiful creature ever born.   We grew up together, and a couple of years later I was riding with a friend in a abandoned gravel pit. There was a fair sized lake where water had gathered in the deepest part of the pit, and it was a popular place to swim for locals.   I couldn’t swim a stroke, but I had complete faith in my pony. Across the lake from the beach was a tall, maybe 100 ft, slip face of sand. We decided to go hill climbing on our horses and found our way to the top. Of course, the temptation was too great. I knew my pony could swim, so I ******** off my saddle and I sent her skidding down the sandy slip face and leaping off the 3 ft bank at the bottom.   We went into the lake with a terrific splash, with me clinging to her neck. She swam across to the beach and, of course, we had to do it again! It was exhilarating! Huge fun.   On about the fifth dive, I was really getting into it. We went helling down that slop full out and she made a terrific leap out into the middle of the lake. Her back was wet and slippery, and I hadn’t taken into account that the increase in speed would mean a bigger, longer leap at the bottom. I came off. And I couldn’t swim a stroke.   Now, at this point I will clarify, the friend I was with was an adult, and she could swim. She knew I couldn’t but also knew I could ride. She was staying pretty close.    I was sinking, clawing my way up, and sinking again.    As I came up the second time I saw my friend heading into the water on her horse. But, she didn’t need to. As soon as my pony realized she had lost me, she immediately turned back as quickly as she could and swam around me. I couldn’t get back on, but my friend called to me to grab her tail. As soon as I had a grip on her tail, she swam straight for the beach, pulling me out of the water.   I coughed up half the lake, and, needless to say, the fun was over for the day.    My pony had saved my life.   There are a few things to remember here, before you count on your horse to something similar. Not that it necessarily won’t, but it may not.   My pony had been born and raised on the farm I grew up on. I had ridden her, literally, every day for two years prior to this happening. We were partners and best friends, and she considered me to be in her care when we were out together.   I raised another horse, and I still have her. I can depend on her the same way, but that is a pony tale for another day. When you develop a true partnership with your horse it is a truly amazing thing.    I love my horses.   Happy riding…
FriendofPromise FriendofPromise
51-55, F
Mar 18, 2009