February 5th, 2018 Day 35 Free
Parts of my life are so rooted into me, that it’s hard to differentiate between what I want, and what has always been. My first pony came with this headstall. It was around 1997 and I was just a little kindergartener, horse crazy and ready to take on the world, right??
That pony was a jerk. He never bucked, but he would scrape me off on low tree branches, bang my knees on fence posts and was just ornery. Never bucked me off or kicked me.. just loved scrapping me off his back.
There was a story I vividly remember with this pony, that I’d love to share today.
I was at the neighbors with my mom, moving cows. I absolutely loved moving cows, even as a little girl. We were working all day, and my little stubborn pony and I were tired. The corrals where we had herded the cows into were down in a little valley, with the fence line extending up to the top of the valley where the gate was to get out of my neighbor’s yard.
Well you see, my pony knew where that gate was, and he knew he wanted to go home, so that little bugger decided he was going home and that was that. So he takes off up the hill, and I’m pulling on the reins trying to get him turned, but lets be real here, I’m like 40 pounds soaking wet. Come on I was like in the 2nd grade at this point in my life. So needless to say it was pony vs Tori and the pony won.
So there we are, standing at the gate at the top of the hill, me almost in tears because like I said, I’m like 7 and the pony is just being a jerk. Pretty quick, here comes a herd of cows that had gotten out, around 10 head. They see me standing at the top of the hill (by the gate, lets not forget, that is closed) my good old pony perks right up, because you see, he was a ranch horse, and ranch horses love their jobs, and here we go!!
We go trotting after these ten head of cows, running them right back into the corrals. All the adults are cheering, watching this 7-year-old girl and her ridiculously stubborn pony trotting behind these ten heifers running them back into the pen, just like an old hand. Little did they know, that pony had the best of me, and I was just along for the ride.
That pony stayed with our family until he was laid to rest in 2011, and he touched me and molded me in more ways than anything else in my young life.
You see, sometimes we need to just step back and trust the process. Trust that that pony knew his job, and knew what was best for his little girl, because even though he was a jerk, he was my jerk and I was his girl.