Monday, February 16, 2009


Mom and I were just on the phone cracking up about how my little Shetland pony, Dimples, ran off with me when I was in first grade. Dimples was the sweetest little dappled gray with flaxen mane and tail. She was maybe Small Pony size, although, now, it seems like she was more large dog size. 

It was a warm April day and her winter coat was itchy and the spring mud looked so inviting and she was tired of me learning to post. She started to fold her little legs to roll in that lovely mud, and mom yelled, "Dimples, you get up!" Dimples got up and took off and cantered around and around the ring. I was scared to death. My friend, Joanne, had come to the barn that day to watch me ride and I remember her hanging on the fence laughing hysterically at the sight before her. 

Dimples lived 33 long years with us and she really was a joy to be around. She never picked up any nasty "spoiled pony" habits that some ponies get. That day, she was just itchy! In her old age she would get such a thick winter coat (probably thyroid trouble) that she looked like she had a pair of bell-bottoms on! It was the Seventies, after all!

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