The best school horses transcend beyond flesh and fur. They become legends.
The barn where I ride recently lost one of their beloved school ponies, Anne. Feisty in her youth, Anne had long ago stepped down to teaching beginners and toting kids.
By the time my 6-year-old daughter, Ava, got to know Anne, the pony had already become quite a legend.
Decades ago, Anne came to Tranquillity Manor Farms in Maryland from a rescue. The story is that she was saved from a truck that was bound for a slaughterhouse. The teens helping to train her thought it was strange how Anne was so slow … and kept gaining weight. Jokingly, they suggested she might be pregnant. Turns out, she was. She likely hadn’t received care and nutrition before she was rescued, and she lost the foal.
As an adult, it is still hard for me to understand how a much-loved horse like Anne could have once been cast out, pregnant, and sent to die. Ava does not understand either. Yet Anne helped me teach Ava that even the saddest souls can find purpose and love, if we give them a chance.

Those decades ago, after Anne recovered, she became one of the most popular school horses at Tranquillity. She went on trail rides during pony camp, taught countless lessons, dressed up in costumes for parades, and even did a pairs class at Warrenton Hunt Night (Virginia). She cleaned up beautifully for many riders’ first horse shows, and was a favorite of those who drew her out of the hat for National Capital Equitation League meets.
Anne stepped down as she aged. When we had little barn-only jumper shows, Holly Gilmore, our trainer, would drop the back rails for all the oxers before Anne’s rounds. With a little accommodation, Anne could still keep up.
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Anne loved attention. Whenever Ava fetched Jazz, the smaller pony she often rides, Anne would get a treat too. She would neigh when she saw Jazz returning to the field, and Jazz would neigh back.
While Ava normally rides smaller ponies, she did take a spin on Anne last fall. We dressed Anne up in a sparkly angel-wing saddle pad, and she stood there like an angel as Ava practiced her vaulting skills, climbing all over Anne and even standing up on her back.
This winter, Anne was hanging in there, growing older and shaggier, when she had a sudden downturn in her health. No one knows for sure, but she must have been nearing her 30s at least. With the help of our vet, the barn tried to help Anne rally. Anne hated stalls but needed extra warmth, so she got to live in a makeshift suite on the shedrow, cozied up with her best pony friend. Everyone gave her extra treats and snuggles.
When Ava came out to the barn, I told her Anne was sick. Ava said her biggest wish was for Anne to feel better. The word “cancer” had entered the discussion, and I tried to explain that Anne might die. I told Ava we could help Anne have a really good day. We stroked her thick, curly coat. We were thrilled when she ate the cookies we brought her, despite leaving her grain—even mixed with candy canes—untouched.
It was time to give Anne a peaceful ending. Anne had given so much to our community that this gift felt very small in return. Yet it was all that was left to give.
When the barn posted on Facebook about losing Anne, tributes to her poured forth. Holly emailed the community about the loss of “one of the best school ponies we have had the honor to have.” Folks posted horse show pictures, remembered Anne as a “firecracker” back in the day, shared that she had been the first horse their child had ever ridden, and posted the view of the trail from behind those floppy, happy ears.
Anne was never the “one and only” for a single owner. Instead, she was loved by an entire community.
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When I told Ava about Anne’s death, she was sad but stoic. She was worried about Jazz, and said if Jazz needed a new best friend, she’d be happy to fill that role. (Ava doesn’t quite understand why she can’t go live in the field with the horses, but she does understand a lot.) Sure enough, the day after Anne passed, Jazz stood at the gate for hours, neighing, despite being pampered with treats and grooming.
Even though Ava only rode Anne once, Anne gave her so much. Anne’s rescue story taught Ava about resilience and hope. Anne’s relationship with Jazz taught Ava about friendship, love, grief and compassion.
In Anne’s long life as a school horse, she shared her gifts with hundreds of people. With the rough start, she had no reason to be so kind. But she was.
Our culture isn’t in the practice of holding funerals for beloved animals. If we did, I bet Anne’s would be pretty crowded.
Tracy C. Gold is a writer, freelance editor and mom living in Baltimore. An alum of U.S. Pony Clubs and the Intercollegiate Horse Shows Association, she competes in local hunter shows and rides for pleasure now. She is the author of the picture books “Trick or Treat, Bugs to Eat” from Sourcebooks and “Everyone’s Sleepy but the Baby” from Familius. You can learn more about Tracy at tracycgold.com.