I’m not sure if I can really call a horse a pet, but then we had a Buffalo as a pet growing up, so….
My father didn’t really like horses, which was strange since we had just about every type of animal growing up. The only animal that my dad didn’t let me get that I begged for was a honey bear. The honey bear even made it to our house, but my dad turned it away. For those that don’t know a honey bear is just a small type of animal about the size of a raccoon. They are also known as kinkajous and get to be about 7 pounds.
Despite my dad not liking horses, he did finally agree to one. We ended up with a couple after a while, but mine was named Puff. It was the 70s and Puff the Magic Dragon was a popular song at the time. Being younger than 10 I had know idea what the song was about other than a catchy song that was on the radio all the time.
We got Puff when I was just starting grade school. A friend broke the horse so that we could ride it… for the first several years that was just my parents setting me on the horses back. A couple times that led to me falling off as my dad grabbed the horse and my mom grabbed my brother at times that the horse got spooked. The horse over time was relocated as we moved from our first trailer in my aunt’s yard to our new home. Changing areas a few times as my dad found uses for the area the horse was currently living in. We added another horse over time that was my brothers. It was named Daisy and I’d swear it was part mule. My horse was a bright reddish color with a red haired main while my brother’s horse was a murky brown color.
My brother never developed the same love of riding that I did. I would head off to a friend’s house to ride, even learning what to do to barrel race and using her brothers for practice when we wanted to try roping a calf. My friend had a rodeo arena in her yard and we would ride for hours, including riding to the nearest town. Riding our own horses my parents kept us to the yard and I don’t remember a time we went beyond my parent’s reach.
One day while at my grandmother’s house, my dad had loaded up our horses and gotten rid of them. I always missed my horse, but kept riding through college. My husband doesn’t really like riding though he has humored me a few times and gone. One time resulting in me being drug as my horse slid in mud. My husband decided riding was too dangerous after that and we haven’t been in 30 years. I could go on my own, but unlike my college years, I just can’t see heading off and renting a horse for a trail ride (and where to even find one).