Training the Team The time finally came, to begin training Cindy and Sandy to harness. As I had predicted when hubby bought them, they weren’t very tall. They were two perfect Belgians in every way, except height. To my way of thinking, shorter was better. They didn’t
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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
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Cindy and Sandy Higgins was more or less retired to the good life. Sundance Kidd was too hot and snorty for the hubby’s liking, and Robin’s abrupt spook-halts, rattled his bones way too much. The passive search to find a good horse was back on. He tried
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Amy Young horses are like young children, portable entertainment units. Have a child by your side, and you’re bombarded by an endless stream of questions. Each answer seems to lead into another question, then another and another. The curiosity of a child is insatiable. The curiosity of
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Thow-ra and Kunama My third horse was a weanling palomino filly, I named Kunama. The word is Australian Aboriginal, and means snow, which I thought perfect for a horse with white mane and tail. When out riding, I always took her along. That filly learned all about
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