Loyal EN reader Sarah Clark has stumbled upon a syndrome that affects many horse owners…like potato chips, you can’t have just one! Many thanks to Sarah for writing, and thank you for reading.
Sarah and Skyler
From Sarah:
There is no such thing as a free horse.
AKA How to go from three horses to eight horses in a very timely manner.
AKA Have I become the crazy horse lady?!?
A year ago, my husband and I bought a new home with a small barn and 13 acres. Before I even moved my three horses to our new place, my uncle talked me into going with him to look at two “ponies” which ended up actually being miniature horses. They were in a pretty rough situation so I decided to take them home. After the owner lassoed them for me. Yes, lassoed. Enough said. Now I had two feral minis along with my adopted mustang, retired geriatric TB, and my competition partner Skyler. Five horses. But two minis really only count as, like, half a horse, right? I quickly took on two more TBs, one a mostly free boarder, the other given to me by a girl who was not riding anymore. OK, seven horses. Or maybe like 5.6 horses. Something like that.
My next bright idea was to look for a (non-feral) pony for my almost 3-year-old son. What better way to inspire him to want to ride, I thought. I mean since he’s shown absolutely no interest whatsoever, having his own pony would definitely get him motivated! I went to the best place I know of to find horses, or at least be entertained while you look for horses, Craigslist. And I pretty much immediately found what I am pretty sure is the cutest pony ever. There he was, looking adorable in the photos of him standing in what looked to be some kind of dog house. But man, was he cute! The ad told me pretty much nothing about him, but I couldn’t resist. I sent a text to the owner asking if I could come see him the next day. And she replied yes! Can you believe that??
For anyone looking at ponies for sale on Craigslist, be prepared for the first question the owner will ask you upon arrival to be something like: So, do you know anything about horses? This is a fun question to answer. Um, well I’ve spent about 26 of my years on earth learning everything I possibly can about horses. So yes, I know a little bit. She proceeds to tell me the all-to-common story about how she thought her niece and nephew would just love to ride a pony around the farm, so she, you guessed it, got a pony! Great idea! By the way, “I heard horses have to have their feet trimmed. Is that true?” Wow. Wow. Yes that is true. Let’s see this poor pony whose feet are going to look amazing, I am sure.
Despite these people’s best efforts to stay in complete ignorance about caring for him, Chico, as he is known, looked great. Luckily she had only owned him for a few weeks before she realized she was in over her head. Chico ran to the gate to meet us and I, eager to meet him, let myself through the gate. As I did, I noticed the children were scared to enter the pasture with me. They were very interested in Chico, and very terrified of him. I took his halter, and quickly realized why. This little beast spent the next several minutes alternately trying to drag me away, and trying to plow over me in any way possible. He literally ran into me repeatedly. This tiny and adorable pony, trying to push me over by ramming me with his cute little face. Oh did I mention he is a stud? Intact, cute as a button, and way too smart for his own good.
I decide the pony isn’t for me, but offer to show the owner how to get some control over him with some basic ground work. At this point, every single member of her family comes out to observe. I spend about 10 minutes circling and backing this little guy in the yard. Hmmmmm… he is very responsive. Smart pony in need of stimulation and a JOB! He starts to look more like a little gentleman. The owner’s niece wants to try my techniques. Good little pony listens to her. The nephew wants to go for a ride. Pony tolerates said child grasping his neck and poking his heels into his flank. “This is a good pony you have here, he just needs someone to be the boss,” I tell his owner. They think I am the horse whisperer and insist I take him home with me. Free.
So… I took him. He was way too cute to pass up. I asked my son what he wanted to name him, anything he could think of. He answered Chuck E Cheese. The pony’s name remained Chico and the first thing I did was have him gelded. My son couldn’t care less that he has his own pony in the pasture. But every time I look at Chico, his sweet little pony face makes my heart melt a little. Hey, anyone know a good place to find a pony sized surcingle? This little guy needs a job!
