When I was very small I fell in love with horses. My dream was to have my own. This love has persisted to the present day but it was only in the last ten years that the dream became a reality when I bought Spice,a cob mare, for myself and my daughters. It was two years ago that the subject of the blog-to-be came into my life and I began to want to record the bits and bobs of life with him. He is Sheltie, the shetland pony. This blog intends to be a record of life with him; to give those of you out there still dreaming the chance to see and share the ups and downs of making the dream a reality. As a teacher of young children I also hope to impart some horsey knowledge along the way.
The adventure began when my husband passed a message on to me,asking if I knew anyone who wanted a free Shetland pony foal. I had already left teaching in school to work for myself and this gave me lots of free time to enjoy looking after Spice. As she lives out, and is a very laid back character there isn't very much to do once she is fed, groomed and ridden. I still had time to spare. The moment I heard Peter's question I thought that it would be a really enjoyable experience to bring on a young pony, particularly as it would be a very small one. I am not a fool and did not wish to be wrestling with a big breed, I am not that much of a horse woman despite having kept Spice for years. Peter did not realise I had really meant it when I said "yes, me " in response to his question though, and it was a couple of months before he realised that I was the proud owner of another furry friend...oops!
I went to visit this cute Shetland foal, I could picture it so clearly, small and fluffy, so tender and vulnerable as well as unwanted...(how wrong could I be?) Harry, as he was called was a very well grown colt of 18months with little handling and no manners. He was built like a rhinocerous, had no intention of letting me near him and scared the pants off me if I was truthful. Little pony mad girls be warned ...pretty ponies kick and bite as well as squash you. However the seed was sown in my mind, this was my challenge now and delivery was arranged after a month, so that I did have a little familiarity with him before he was moved to my yard.
He arrived at the start of the Christmas holiday so that I had a good two weeks to spend as
much time with him as possible every day. His journey in a horse box was uneventful, he ate out of a bucket for the whole fifteen minutes trip, bracing his fat little body without coming up for air. He leapt down the ramp on arrival and looked around rather like the hard man of the neighbourhood. Considering he had never seen anything apart from an enclosed paddock and his two parents he was amazingly cocky. He was towed to a stable as his head collar training was not yet in place and proceeded to trash it during his first night away from mum and dad. Buckets and bales of hay were rearranged quite violently through the darkness and when I arrived early in the morning he was standing four square in the stable ready to take me on too.
From then on days merged one into another as I encouraged him to lead into a quarantine field, let him exercise, and then take back to his box. He was renamed Sheltie as there was a Harry on the yard already, and Sheltie sounds as cute as he looks. He was a quick learner when things were in his interest and he soon picked up that the head collar was ok as he was brought back to a bucket of food each day. Catching became a case of not being knocked down in his rush to be caught and "BACK" was the essential command.
Leading him was another matter, his strength was and is phenomenal, there was no danger of me developing "bingo wings", my arms were permanently locked and braced to stop me being towed along. Every day I did a little and every day things changed. If we were heading towards the field or the stable he gave the impression of being an amiable wee soul, even dawdling behind on a loose lead rope. If I wanted to venture in a different direction though, he was a monster, excellent at reversing and better still at suddenly whizzing round in front of you to reverse his route. He would make a good sheep dog with the technique he developed and I had to make up my own technique to outwit him.
My first major assault on Sheltie was to have him gelded as soon as possible. He was a stallion and needed sorting. Whilst under the sedation I had the chance of my first quiet cuddle with him, a taste of things in the future perhaps when he was no longer wild and fierce. He was adorable at that moment, sleepy and soft, leaning on me and gently snoring while his personal parts were sorted for ever. I did suggest that I kept him tranquilised but that was not to the vet's liking! On the same day I started Sheltie's vaccinations, a worming programme,his passport ordered and a micro chip inserted for good measure. There is no such thing as a free pony, he cost three hundred pounds in that one week!
