Last week, I had a flash back to my eight year old self who had re-read My Friend Flicka for the countless time and then spent days begging her parents for a pony. Anyone who knows me, knows that horses are a huge part of my life.
As a child I read Black Beauty over and over. And the Silver Brumby series. I watched Follyfoot on the TV and loved Mr. Ed. I had a shelf filled with picture books and would stay up late when I had the chance to watch the international showjumping.
I did actually get a horse when I was thirteen. He taught me patience and responsibility and we were together for twelve years.
In the last ten years my husband and I have owned several more horses, but last week, a new pony arrived. Her name is Pepper and in some ways, she feels like the horse of my heart. Is there such a thing? I’m not sure. I guess it’s how some dogs seem to resonate more to our emotions than others.
Pepper is thirteen and very sweet. She was. Little nervous for the first few days, no doubt because of her new environment and routine, but she has settled in so well.
I write about horses a lot and try to keep it as real as possible. I never have my hero’s astride black stallions etc (because in the real world, I don’t know anyone who rides a stallion outside of the competition ring and stallions are nothing but trouble, since all they think about are girl ponies). And I love being able to share this part of my life with my readers.
But yesterday morning I was at the paddock feeding the horses and I looked at Pepper and wished I could go back and tell that eight year old girl who loved My Friend Flicka, that one day I would be standing beside a pretty chestnut mare with a loving nature and who I know will be a friend for life.
Is there anything you would like to go back and tell your younger self?