Warning to All Pony Lovers: this may upset you, a LOT!
It may make you want to tar, feather,and banish me forever.
But I cannot pretend any longer.
I don’t like Ponys.
They scare the HELL outa me.
I have Pony PTDS.
And very time I post a comment, someone gives me (shudder) MORE ponies.
I don’t know what to do.
I am also scared to death of HORSES, and the mere thought of running into a (cringe) UNICORN, makes my teeth chatter, even if they’re not in my mouth at the time.
I wasn’t born this way. Once upon a time, I even asked Santa to BRING me a Pony.
I was really pissed when he didn’t.
I wasn’t born scared of ponies. Or horses.
But that was before I met one of each in person.
My kids wanted a pony. I bought one for them and that’s how I met “Puffin”, the Pony from Hell.
He was one of those pretty miniature ponies. I’d seen some dogs as big as that pony , so I wasn’t a bit scared of him, besides I probably weighed more than HE did. The guy showed me how to put a bridle and saddle on him. Puffin stood there so patient and docile, such a sweet, gentle boy. With his owner leading, he gave both of my little girls their very first pony ride around our yard. I was so happy! I never got my own pony, but I got one for them and it felt like some long awaited victory!
Then the guy turned him loose in my small fenced in pasture, and left. They were moving out of state the next day. Later that day, sugar cubes and apples in hand, I went out to get acquainted with Puffin by myself. Being a city girl, I wondered how you call a pony: do you whistle? Say “Here, Pony! Here, Pony?” What?
Puffin finally wandered over to the fence where I was. I held out the sugar cubes. He just looked at them and snorted. The apple, then? Same thing. He sniffed it, snorted, shook his head then went right back to standing stock still, staring me right in the eye with a distinctly UNFRIENDLY stare. I gingerly offered the apple again..at which time he dropped his head, knocked the apple to the ground, BIT MY HAND ,then walked a few steps off,turned his back and took a big crap.
Now I am not stupid. I can read non verbal cues. This pony definitely did NOT like me.
To make a long story short, over the next month I must have run ten thousand miles around that pasture trying to catch that damned pony, to no avail. More than once he turned the tables and chased ME with those big teeth bared! Nothing worked. I made sure he was well fed, well watered, had good shelter and endless treats, all of which he rejected in favor of another bite of my hand. I spent countless hours sitting by the fence, using my most persuasive communication skills to win his trust, but he’d just stand there munching grass and pooping as if I didn’t exist. Meanwhile, I’m trying to explain to two tearful little girls that Mommy just can’t CATCH their pony, so they could ride it. Having to look at a pony they could not ride became just too much, SO I found another good home for Puffin, who, it eventually turned out, simply hated women, but not men.
As for HORSES, meet Diamond, a Tennesee Walker, about 16 hands high. I rented the pasture to his owner, who was flat out determined to teach me to ride a horse. Diamond was gentle, he said, no reason to be afraid of good ol Diamond! Oh, hell no! The minute I climbed up onto his back, he reared up, took off like a bat outa hell, and threw me hard into the creek! Dislocated shoulder. Nice horse, that ol Diamond.
So there, now I’ve done it.
I have outed my self as non-pony-lover.
I am aware this may be grounds for banning.
Just please don’t give me any more ponies.
give them to each other instead.
Please?
I spent the morning and afternoon trapped in my apartment as workers painted the stairwell which leads to the only exit from the building. The paint fumes were probably consuming my brain cells. I sacrificed brain cells in better ways when I was younger.