When packing my house, I found this picture:
This was probably taken in about 1985 and is of my first pony. Frisky was a half quarter/half arab that my uncle bred out of one of his father-in-law's quarter horses by his arab stallion. She was born to a very old broodmare with no milk, so was bottle fed, which made her small and very social. She topped out at 13.2, and was actually registered as a half arab palomino with the name Naash's Peppy Girl. She would probably be considered a chestnut today. She would follow me around, play tag and hide-and-go-seek. I could lead her around the block without a halter. I just couldn't really ride her. She was a 4 year old half-arab when I was 10 and had about 4 months of lessons under my belt. When I got to be a pre-teen, she was my best friend. I would saddle her up and take her out in the woods and get lost and let her find the way back home. She would stand outside my bedroom window and wait for me to come outside. She was known to let herself into the house, until we had to put a fence up around the patio to keep her out. When I was 14, my parents sold her. She ended up going to pony finals, where she placed 5th in the medium pony hunters, although they changed her name to Devonshire Cream and told everyone she was a Shenandoah Welsh pony. I lost track of her, but remember her fondly and wish I knew if she ended up living a long happy life.
But when I opened that envelope and saw that picture, I actually thought it was Violet at first.
See, not much different in color, and the same white face. We have always made jokes about the fact that I like red-headed pony mares. I guess that runs deep. Not only that, but the red-headed pony mares have all been named appropriately: Frisky, Sassy and The Cheeky One (Violet). I'll get the pictures of Sassy up and tell her story another day. In the meantime, enjoy the weekend and if you can, get out there and hug your horse.
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