Dad’s disbelief My father was a city boy. He knew about small critters like rabbits and the like, but that’s about it. He knew nothing about horses or ponies, and was completely befuddled with the fact that his daughter was completely enamoured with them. He didn’t encourage
Read more →
Hippy I can never look at a picture of Hippy, a wild, half-starved, tri-coloured pinto pony that I brought back to health, without remembering my mother. I’m sure this sounds a bit odd, but after reading this ‘tail’ I think you’ll understand why. The youngest in a
Read more →
When I was seventeen years old, I owned seventeen horses. I couldn’t seem to go to see horses that were for sale, especially ones that had not been seeing enough groceries, without buying as many as I could possibly afford. The ones that were obviously abused, also
Read more →
When my kids were tiny tots, they went everwhere with me. If there was fence to fix, they walked with me, hay to haul, same story. They learned about chores, responsiblity, and how to get on with it, from a very young age. One day, when my
Read more →
Recent Comments