Major was a laminitic pinto pony that my mom got for me from a family friend. He was fat, headstrong, and hard-mouthed. Perfect for 5 year-old me. I rode him all over our farm property, and I became convinced that I was actually an “Indian” because I had dark hair and a pinto pony. Many times I would stand on his back so I could reach the bottom limb of a big old maple tree where I could sit and soak up the summer breezes. As long as he had grass to eat, he would never go far.
Growing up on a family-run dairy farm, we never were “rich,” but I felt I had the world when I was riding or driving my pony. I could never understand what kids that lived in town found to keep themselves busy. I truly felt sorry for them because they didn’t have a pony! I eventually graduated to a more “show-type” pony, but I will always be grateful for the freedom and lessons learned from Major.