Pretzel, the Little Pony with a BIG Personality His name was quite apropos, the color of the crunchy snack. Pretzel was a feisty and affectionate Shetland pony. He commanded attention even though he was much smaller than the other horses in the paddock. He quickly found a soft spot in my parent’s hearts and mine too. My dad discovered Pretzel at the fence one sunny morning in mid June, just days before my birthday. He had wandered into the yard, lured by the other horses and for the possibility of a meal of hay. When my dad led him into the pasture the Thoroughbreds welcomed him warmly. After locating the...
Guest Post: Knowing Horse Obsession Wasn’t a Phase
Welcome, Charise! I’m so glad to share this post – because I can so relate to it. I heard the same things. And I feel the same way still. Share in the comments if you agree. – Nicole I love horses. Or think I do. Thought I did. But others always told me it was a phase. “All girls love horses.” And even more others said, “You only like to ride. If you had to take care of a horse, you wouldn’t like them so much.” I can remember being three and my Great Grandparents were living in a cabin while their house was being built. There was a black...
Some “Aww” Moments for your Monday
No words needed – just adore my friend’s latest purebred Arabian colt, born a few weeks ago. Let’s say it all together now, “Awwwww…”
Guest Post: Horse Memories from a Horse-less Childhood
Welcome, Sarah Sundin, author of the Wings of Glory Series (all of which I’ve had the pleasure to review). See news about her next (and most certainly) amazing book at the end! Five young girls pedaled bikes up the winding road, past rustling eucalyptus trees. My bike was shimmery red with a basket and a bell. We went because our moms wanted us to get fresh air, because of the single steepest hill we knew—which stole my breath and thrilled my heart when I flew down on my Schwinn. But mostly we went for the horses. My childhood home in California had a backyard big enough for a dog and...
Will Clean Stalls for A Little Horse Time
Yes. I’m that desperate. I went through a similar cycle when I went (horseless) to college. The first year or so, it was nice. No responsibility. No stalls to clean. But then it became torturous and I sought any horsey outlet I could. I wrote stories on the local therapeutic riding center so that I could go there and be around the barn. Smell the hay, dirt and horse. Feel the calming presence of the horses. See the peace of people as they work with the animals. I’m hopelessly addicted. That’s why I’ll scoop poop just to get a little horse time. I’ve been married now for 4 years and living close enough to my horse to...