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Dear Santa--About That Pony I Asked For Years Ago

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  • Dear Santa--About That Pony I Asked For Years Ago

    Dear Santa--
    I know you're pretty busy about now, but as an older horseperson, I just wanted to drop you a note to say thanks for listening when I was about five or so and sat on your lap all those years ago and asked for a pony (please, pretty please) and don't bother sending anything else. It's some years later, but I wanted to let you know how that all turned out.

    What I had in mind--a perfect dappled gray Merrylegs pony with a red bow, a bucket of pristine grooming tools, beautiful leather bridle and English saddle, some blue ribbons, a bigger shiny hunter a few years later, some barn friends, little pony crazy daughters to carry on the pony fun for a couple of years when I grew up.

    [/U]What you sent[/U]--At the time, a couple of cool spotted Breyer horses with one leg up that fell down with a clatter every time there was an earthquake. But though I didn't see your other gifts at the time, you sent a growing, incessant desire to be around horses no matter that our family couldn't afford them. You sent backyard horses that people let me borrow as well as lots of barn friends. Then many years later when I grew up, you delivered a real horse for me--an older sway-backed, shark-withered gelding who had a calamitous canter and ran away with me at the little local show so those blue ribbons remained merely a Christmas wish, but the gray hairs I have, the admonishments I received from my instructor, and ripped breeches are pretty good horse show souvenirs nonetheless. That horse is now retired in style because only three of his legs work on any given day. He's older than dirt, eating his head off, but still giving me smiles. Thanks also for the bucket of shiny grooming tools I asked for. Never mind that they soon turned into a stepped-on bucket and well-worn tools with broken handles.

    Instead of the cute little pigtailed pony girl daughter that I could dress up in tiny riding habits and sedately take around the leadline class and be one of THOSE moms, you sent me a horse-crazy son who blasted around on a wild scary, chestnut mare pony for a few years, grew up too soon, and is now scaring his mother by jumping high fences on ginormous horses. Okay, not exactly what I had in mind, but I have some really nice memories, some horse show pictures of him out of the deal, some tears and smiles and a very responsible young man of a son who loves horses almost more than I do, so thanks for that. Oh, Not sure how this happened, but along with the horses you sent over the years, somehow some motley barn rescue dogs and cats were delivered as well. So thanks for those--most of the time anyway. By the way, I didn't ask for these for Christmas, but I do get ongoing "gifts" in the mail just in time for the holidays--vet bills, shoeing bills, feed bills, and notices to renew my horse organization memberships. Maybe you could send these one to someone else who needs them more than I do.

    All in all, Santa, it wasn't the dapple gray pony I asked for all those years ago, but you did pretty good by this old horseperson.
    Thanks, Me

    P.S.What did the rest of you ask for horse-wise, and what did Santa bring you instead?

  • #2
    What a great post! Brought a leetle tear to my eye......

    I asked for a pony, too. Didn't get my first "pony" til I was 30. There have been ups and downs but I wouldn't trade them for the world. And yes, I got "extra" furry friends, too - but I wouldn't trade them, either.
    "Cats aren't clean; they're covered with cat spit."
    - John S Nichols (1745-1846,writer/printer)

    Don't come for me - I didn't send for you.

    Comment


    • #3
      Happyhooves,

      That was wonderful. Crying over breakfast now . . .
      \"Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it.\" Anne of Green Gables

      Comment


      • #4
        Beautiful!

        Comment


        • #5
          That was fantabulous!
          "When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in a confederatcy against him."

          Comment


          • #6
            Wonderful! Can we see some pics of your son and these "ginormous" horses?

            Comment


            • #7
              I asked for a pony every year. I finally got tired of waiting and bought my own pony at 13. Never been without since. Thanks for not answering because I learned to work and support them all by myself!

              Comment


              • #8
                Not too late for you to get that pony!
                I have a Fjord! Life With Oden

                Comment


                • #9
                  Wonderful! Happy holidays.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    I never asked for a pony. I wanted a *horse*. A big strong hairy black mare I could gallop through mountains with. I asked Santa for that one year, and told him it didn't have to be exactly that; any horse would do! I think I was four or five. Later I was playing hide-n-seek and shoved myself into a tiny cupboard in my mom's room, where I came across a gorgeous model horse (not breyer, but ones with similar detail and brushable mane) that matched my dream horse nearly perfectly. I left it alone. Couple weeks later... it was in my stocking 'from Santa'.

                    I knew then that Santa wasn't real.

                    I also knew that my mom could never afford a horse. We were very poor. VERY poor.

                    So, I started asking 'Santa' for very specific model horses instead. I got two a year, for Christmas and Birthday. Ended up with a huge collection, and special limited edition ones gotten from saving up the UPC's.

                    My mom eventually convinced a coworker to let me ride her horses. I bonded very closely with an old, crotchety - but absolutely GORGEOUS - Arabian gelding. He was eventually given to me. We weren't so poor at that point and had things worked out for a place to keep him and a budget to afford his other upkeep.

                    He died of a heart attack the day he came home. It was the day before Christmas and we were at family's so I didn't even get to see him arrive. I still cry when I think about him decades later, but we'd had years together before that. Best friend I've ever had and I'm forever grateful to my mom's coworker.

                    I started working at a barn for 'real' lessons. Learned to jump. Trainer put me on her best horses and even let me show them a few times a year in exchange for groom work.

                    Mom's coworker was going away for the summer and needed someone to watch after her kids and horses. A fun summer of riding, and a good paycheck at the end. My first paid job. I was 14.

                    That winter I took my summer funds to the local horse and tack auction to get my first 'good' saddle. Didn't find a saddle. But I did bring home a pony. He was sick and sad; a nearly two year old who looked 6 months at best, and the only other bidder was a kill buyer. Neighbor/barn owner (who was the one years before who'd worked out keeping my first horse with them) said if I bought him, we could work upkeep out.

                    My mom... was not happy, to say the least. But that pony got the best care my weekly lunch money could give. Sadly two years later he was still a pony, and I was a very tall 16 year old. So he became a young kid's Christmas pony.

                    Life happened. Children and marriage. Eventually two Arabians fell into my lap; one of which was my first horse's grand-daughter. Those two eventually passed (one PTS with EPM complications, and first horse's granddaughter passed suddenly at the same age of her grandsire, under similar circumstances - standing in the pasture and just suddenly keeling over, no warning or signs before).

                    Then just a couple short years ago I was thinking about leasing another horse (didn't want to own another after the heartbreak of the last two). Looking through craigslist and there she was. Her sales photo looked like what that five year old little girl many many decades before had seen in a calendar photo that had caught her imagination. Galloping, long wavy black mane and tail billowing out behind her. Black coat shining in the sun over a very thick, very muscular body. Perfect. I had to see her.

                    She came home with me. She's not *exactly* what that little girl dreamed about: she's stubborn and witchy and tests me at every turn. She has terrible allergies that make her eyes puff and ooze now and then. She's more bonded to my child than to me. But when I can open her up and I feel her running beneath me, I'm that little girl again. I'm sure we'll eventually gallop through some grassy hills.

                    So I don't thank Santa: I thank my mom. I thank my mom's coworker. I thank my neighbor. My trainer. Everyone who looked out for me and kept my passion for horses alive, even when circumstances and outcomes were less than ideal. I got my Christmas horse eventually, the culmination of family, friends, and neighbors giving me the wherewithal to do it myself.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Originally posted by Happyhooves View Post
                      Dear Santa--
                      I know you're pretty busy about now, but as an older horseperson, I just wanted to drop you a note to say thanks for listening when I was about five or so and sat on your lap all those years ago and asked for a pony (please, pretty please) and don't bother sending anything else. It's some years later, but I wanted to let you know how that all turned out.

                      What I had in mind--a perfect dappled gray Merrylegs pony with a red bow, a bucket of pristine grooming tools, beautiful leather bridle and English saddle, some blue ribbons, a bigger shiny hunter a few years later, some barn friends, little pony crazy daughters to carry on the pony fun for a couple of years when I grew up.

                      [/U]What you sent[/U]--At the time, a couple of cool spotted Breyer horses with one leg up that fell down with a clatter every time there was an earthquake. But though I didn't see your other gifts at the time, you sent a growing, incessant desire to be around horses no matter that our family couldn't afford them. You sent backyard horses that people let me borrow as well as lots of barn friends. Then many years later when I grew up, you delivered a real horse for me--an older sway-backed, shark-withered gelding who had a calamitous canter and ran away with me at the little local show so those blue ribbons remained merely a Christmas wish, but the gray hairs I have, the admonishments I received from my instructor, and ripped breeches are pretty good horse show souvenirs nonetheless. That horse is now retired in style because only three of his legs work on any given day. He's older than dirt, eating his head off, but still giving me smiles. Thanks also for the bucket of shiny grooming tools I asked for. Never mind that they soon turned into a stepped-on bucket and well-worn tools with broken handles.

                      Instead of the cute little pigtailed pony girl daughter that I could dress up in tiny riding habits and sedately take around the leadline class and be one of THOSE moms, you sent me a horse-crazy son who blasted around on a wild scary, chestnut mare pony for a few years, grew up too soon, and is now scaring his mother by jumping high fences on ginormous horses. Okay, not exactly what I had in mind, but I have some really nice memories, some horse show pictures of him out of the deal, some tears and smiles and a very responsible young man of a son who loves horses almost more than I do, so thanks for that. Oh, Not sure how this happened, but along with the horses you sent over the years, somehow some motley barn rescue dogs and cats were delivered as well. So thanks for those--most of the time anyway. By the way, I didn't ask for these for Christmas, but I do get ongoing "gifts" in the mail just in time for the holidays--vet bills, shoeing bills, feed bills, and notices to renew my horse organization memberships. Maybe you could send these one to someone else who needs them more than I do.

                      All in all, Santa, it wasn't the dapple gray pony I asked for all those years ago, but you did pretty good by this old horseperson.
                      Thanks, Me

                      P.S.What did the rest of you ask for horse-wise, and what did Santa bring you instead?

                      That is just a perfect Christmas post.
                      www.laurienberenson.com

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        I finally got my Shetland at the age of 30

                        Of course, I'm going to have to give him back to his little girl in a few years, but hey... Beggars and choosers and all that
                        It's a small world -- unless you gotta walk home.

                        Comment

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