“Major” The key to my childhood independence


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.