My name is Jordan, I just barely turned eleven. My whole life I have grown up around horses, as my mom was also raised with them. Growing up I always dreamed of having a horse to call my own. One I could feed everyday and brush until its mane sparkled. Finally, my dream became a reality.
Our family had always owned horses, but there was never one that I could truly call mine. It was always Buster, my mom’s horse, or Jeff, my dad’s horse, never one to call mine. Then one day I was at a Summer Camp, riding my mom’s horse Buster. The instructor said he was just too much horse for me, which I would have agreed with. I was a very little girl for being ten. Anyways the instructor said I really needed a pony that fit me better and was older. So we began our search. After looking at several older horses we finally found the perfect one! He was only nineteen, a perfect age for my level. He was the cutest pony in the world, kind of reminded me of a Barbie pony with a light, palomino colored body and a white mane and tail.
We had a great summer together, me and my new pony. We attended several Pony Club events and participated in the Games Rally! I had a lot of fun riding with my friends and not worrying about him being naughty. Sadly as the summer weather came to an end, so did my pony. He was having trouble eating and was beginning to lose weight, so we called the vet. It turned out that he had a tumor in his small intestine. This was devastating because at this point there was nothing we could do about it. He had to be put down. After years of begging with my parents for my own horse and finally getting one for a summer, he is gone like sand in the wind. Now what?
My mom had called her sister, my aunt, and told her the situation. My aunt also was involved with horses and there was one that my mom had been training for her. His name was Reasie; I had known him since the day he was born. His birth is actually an interesting story that brought our hearts together. His mom had a problem when giving birth to him, and died two days after he was born. No one thought he would live. He wouldn’t allow anyone near him, so he couldn’t be bottle fed. I was only two, and I honestly had no idea what I was doing, but one day I went into his stall with a bottle in my hand and began feeding him. After that, I was by his side everyday taking care of him and feeding him so he would live. Anyone else who would try to come near him would only get kicked. We had a connection, something special.
After my first pony died, my aunt introduced my back to Reasie. It was an instant friendship, like we had been together all these years. I was able to understand him perfectly, and ride him without any fear. He was a bit tall for me, but I would soon grow into him. My mom was afraid that it was too soon to put me on him, but we were such a good match. I can see myself riding him for many years to come.
The above image found at http://pics4.city-data.com/cpicc/cfiles42974.jpg.
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