I always wanted a horse when I was growing up. We had Penny for a wee while, a very fat chestnut mare who only broke into a trot if she was heading towards the paddock gate. When I was 13 or 14 Dad's friend gave us a thoroughbred gelding that had failed dismally as a racehorse. His name was Bart. He enjoyed bucking. I did not enjoy his bucking.
Here's Bart with all four legs on the ground. Like my outfit?
Here's Bart with all four legs on the ground. Like my outfit?
So how cool was it when Alex's Uncle Gary gave her a beautiful black pony for Christmas?? It is way cooler than the ponies I used to make using one of dad's sawhorses, a big plastic rubbish bin and Penny's saddle, but it is not a real pony. This pony straps to your leg and if you press the button in its ear, it makes clip-clop noises and neighs. I'm pretty sure it won't buck her off either, so that's a good start.
The clip-clopping concerned her at first..
But it didn't take her long to lean forward and egg him on just like a real jockey would. His ears were even back because he was going flat out (or they were being sucked on), and if he dared slow down she kicked him in the ribs to egg him on again ...until his (my) legs cramped up and her ride was over for the day.
Po-Knee is ridiculous and very cool all at once. I wonder if we should give him a name?
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