If someone had told me Thursday morning I would be owning one more horse, I would have laughed and laughed.
One, I have no money.
Two, the one and only next horse on this property would be a perfectly trained, quiet, medium-sized pony, has to be mare, safe for kids, not too old, not sick and affordable. Ha! Even typing it now, it sounds unrealistic.
So at 10:00 a.m. when I passed by an add for a broke, quiet, medium-sized pony, mare, 'suitable for inexperienced rider', 12 years old, alive and breathing on all four legs, and ... affordable. Ha! I immediately pulled hubby to the computer and said 'voila! Our children's ever-desired trusty steed!'
And he didn't say no. The crazy man FORGOT to say NO and further more, said how the funds could be found...I might have almost died on the spot! I couldn't feel my legs and my heart was beating wildly. I may have said I would message the seller and my hubby left for work.
Many hours later (many hours in a truck pulling a trailer with two intermittently fighting children on a road to the middle of nowhere*ohmygodkillme*) I arrived in a yard of said pony for sale.
She emerged from a box stall all fluffy mane and big sweet eyes. I could tell she was kind instantly. We went over a thousand questions and then the seller saddled her up and rode her in the round pen. A thousand more questions and then I got on and tried her out. Broke! Not back yard pony broke but nice riding horse broke.
Of course I bought her. I wanted to throw up and jump for joy at the same time.
All I had to do now was first survive the long drive back with really tired, extra grumpy, hungry children and pray hubby would remember NOT saying NO when I got home. Then, of course I got a flat tire. Okay, cosmic gods are going to make me earn this pony. Handled and back on the road. I even think I could have done it on my own if the good samaritan hadn't stopped and helped.
Please welcome the newest member of our little farm!
Meyla, 12 years old, 13.1 hh, Icelandic Pony
I think hubby will be okay...eventually.