"Prince the Forgotten Pony"
I remember attending a farm auction looking for primitives and antiques. I arrived late with my son who was eight years old at the time. I walked around looking at items piled on top of old farm wagons as the auctioneer sold things to the crowd.
There were two ponies standing over in a corral not far from the house. One was a dirty white with his head hanging over the fence. Now, I didn't know a thing about a pony but for some crazy reason he caught my eye and I walked over to him. He looked old and neglected but seemed to be very gentle. I recall looking down at his hooves and trying to figure out why his hooves were so long. They made me think of elf shoes. I figured someone hadn't taken the time to trim his hooves. I thought he was the most pitiful thing I had ever seen.
I walked back over to the things I wanted to bid on to continue with my mission. After awhile the crowd thinned out and I purchased a pile of things and placed them by my side.
The auctioneer then headed for the corral. He sold equipment sitting around by the fence and then proceeded to auction off the ponies. Naturally my son looked up at me and me down at him.
I had no place to put a pony. I lived in the city in an apartment. I didn't even have a clue how to take care of one. I watched them auction off the first pony for $200.00. He then started talking about the white one. I found myself listening, still looking at that sad example of a creature. But it pulled at my heartstrings and I knew I should walk away.
He started the bid at $20.00 and I tried to completely ignore his voice but I kept hearing him say, "Do I hear $20.00?" No one responded. Frankly, glancing around I could see no one wanted this pony. I then wondered what they did with a pony no one would take. Pictures of a glue factory jumped through my thoughts. Before I knew it I had raised my hand at $20.00.
"Sold." He said.
Naturally my son was delighted and I passed into a zone of a normal person buying stuff to an owner of livestock. I walked over asking the clerk, "How long do I have to get that pony out of here?"
She replied everything had to be moved off the property by the next day. I dreaded going home to tell my husband we now were the proud owners of a dirty white pony with big feet. I had done some crazy things but suddenly reality set in and I was hustling inside my brain on how to handle this whole situation.
When my husband came home from work. I said, "I have good news and bad news. He said. "Oh No. What did you do?" I started explaining about the auction and mentioned the ponies and I saw him roll his eyes and shake his head.
"Do we know anyone that would keep a pony for us?" I laughingly asked. He just laughed back and said, " I have no idea. Do we?"
I proceeded to tell him the story of this fiasco and found him quite supportive saying he would have done the same thing.
We now sat together, as two heads are better than one, and planned out our strategy. First we would call a couple people we knew that lived on farms and see if they would board him for a bit. That idea brought forth one offer but the drive would be so long it might be cheaper to find a place that offered this service.
After searching the phone book we found one that sounded nice. We called him, told him the story, and set up a time to go pick up this pony.
Once arriving at the auction site, the elderly man loaded him up. He mentioned the pony was foundered. I said, "What does that mean?"
He replied, He has probably overfed on grain, or even drank too much water while overheated. That is the cause of those hooves you see. I then learned this pony would need some special care. He offered to put us in contact with the people we would need.
On the way there we named the pony, "Prince." All three of us were excited to be able to take this pony to safety and begin an adventure together. Once at the stables we found lots to learn. We had to learn about what to feed him, where to buy it, how to keep the stable clean, brushing the pony and much more.
A man trimmed his hooves and before long the pony seemed to be quite happy in his new surroundings. As soon as our truck would pull up the drive he would flip his head around, whinny and come running up the corral to the barn. My son had a great time with him and we made wonderful memories from this experience. It brought forth months of pleasure.
One day a lady that visited the stables learned we were moving and had to get rid of the pony. She bought him taking him to her ranch to live out the rest of his life. We were all sad to see him go, but we could no longer keep him. To see him have a happy ending was the best part of all.