He was a sorrel and white tobiano with hair of similar texture and appearance of a wire-haired Jack Russell terrier – year-round. I believe Poncho was in his twenties when he was finally handed down to me by my older sisters. He used to just lay in the pasture and let me climb all over him. I would spend hours just laying on top of him. I thought he allowed me to do this because he loved me. I think it was because he was chronically foundered. On special days in the spring and summer my older sisters would saddle him for me. The mild curb bit with the leather curb strap wasn’t quite effective in keeping him from running me under the clothesline every.single.time I rode him. I didn’t care. I was very good at doing the horseback limbo. At this point in my life, I didn’t know about fancy show horses. I thought he was the finest horse flesh that ever walked the prairie.