She was a little Welch pony named Creampuff. She loved watermelon, rootbeer, Tootsie Pops, and apples. But not so much tomatoes.
I loved cleaning her feet and licking her salt block. I liked feeding her hay for about a week, then I didn't like it so much. I loved brushing her in the summer but not so much in the spring. We used to have to be vacuumed off before we could come in the house when she was shedding her winter coat.
She was a gentle thing. We could crawl under her belly and jump up on her rump like the cowboys do in the movies. I stood on her back. I sat on her sideways. I did all kinds of crazy things and she was very careful.
She was an ornery thing. She would try to scrape us off her back as we rode through the gate, by going to close to the post. She wouldn't go any faster than she darn well pleased - which wasn't very. She bucked a few times. If she didn't want to jump, you couldn't make her. And when she was ready to be done, she took her own bridle off and you were left without any brakes. And the story of her rolling over my sister you already know.
I busted up my arm when I fell off her, but it wasn't her fault that time, she simply tripped and I landed wrong somehow I guess. I have a five inch scar on my shoulder and a dot on the top where a temporary pin was during healing. But I couldn't wait to get back on and ride!
Having that pony was the best thing ever!