Well, I’ve done some knitting, and some cooking, and some other things, but I don’t particularly feel like writing about them. I feel like writing about Pepper.
Pepper is our pony. Well, he’s my mom’s pony. He’s been in my family for as long as I can remember- he taught my little cousins how to ride, and when they outgrew him, he came to me and my mom, to work as her trail horse.
Pepper’s had an illustrious career, teaching young riders and calmly entertaining older riders. Plenty of kids have loved and learned with him. Some of them have gone on to ride other horses, too. He’s worked as a lesson horse, a therapy horse, and a trail horse for years. He’s gone to more schooling shows than even he can remember. He’s my favorite horse to teach beginners on- he stops as soon as he feels them loose their balance. And he won’t go faster than they know how to ask. Or where they don’t know how to ask him to go. But if you know, he’s fun, with neatly adjustable gaits and a fun little jump.
This is my cousin, the first young rider Pepper had, riding in a jumpers class at HITS. She's one of the *ahem* little angels who taught Pepper to buck when tapped on the croup with a crop.
Pepper’s nineteen now, and he’s enjoying his “semi-retirement”. We say it’s a semi-retirement, because every so often (i.e. whenever the footing isn’t going to kill us all) I stick a hackamore and a bareback pad on him and ride. This doesn’t usually happen more than once or twice a week, but as he’s the only horse in our little herd whom is sound, he’s considered to be a bit less retired than them.
He’s not the boss of our little herd, but he’s certainly very… communicative about his opinions. He pulls faces. I don’t have photos of those faces. Mostly because I am often laughing too hard to take pictures, but he is quite adept at them. Mostly they occur when you interrupt his post-meal cribbing, or if you’re Dewey.
(Dewey is the big paint. More on him later).
Pepper’s kind of like a weird, crabby sibling to me here on the farm. We make fun of each other (he tries to push me over with his nose when he finds treats in my pockets, and I tickle his nose when he tries cribbing so he makes funny faces) and he keeps me entertained. He and Dewey are generally inseparable, though they bicker like an old married couple at times.
And sometimes Pepper harasses the dogs.
So here it is- a post for Pepper, my weird, crabby, patient, fun little pony.
Who isn’t really a pony.
Pepper is 15 hands high, and of unknown heritage. He has been with our (nuclear) family since 2002, and in our extended family for longer than this writer can remember, honestly. She’s not much older than him herself.