Equus caballus

In our village my father was the second last farmer to use a horse for everyday farmwork. I did some work with the mare or pony as we called her. She was the most gentle pony anyone ever worked. She lost an eye as a foal, due to a kick from another horse. When my Dad bought her she was skin and bone but she soon put on some weight. Some of our neighbours still had horse ploughs etc and borrowed her from time to time. One neighbour got his daughter to collect the pony as she was walking home from school. She loved riding the pony home. I remember Dad saying how happy the girl looked when on returning the pony, he told the girl to keep her for another few days as he did not need her yet. It seems like all my cousins have been photographed on the pony’s back at one time or another.
My Uncle also had a mare. It was huge. I remember Dad lifting me up on her back. I must have been about 4 or 5 at the time. I could only sit on her back, it was too wide for me to hang my legs down each side. I was not scared because Dad kept a grip of my leg as I sat on what seemed like a living mountain.
I never used a saddle until last year. I was in Romania in July and got the chance to ride a horse there, thanks to my friend Gabi. I was keeping the horse back as she was trying to walk too close to the one in front. The guy in charge kept telling me to let the horse do what it wanted to do. He joked about having a race. It was obvious that I had not been on a horse for a very long time but I loved it.
We kept the pony long after she was unable to do any work. She finished her days in the company of an equally aged donkey. For me she was more than just another farm animal, but she was not a pet. She worked for her living and helped us earn ours.
Good night dear reader. Sleep well.