05/06/2025
Oh the things I learned from a wee ornery pony!!! 🤣
This is Evie, age 4, attempting to convince Mimi of the wonders found in playing in the pasture pond.
I don’t think a photo exists that is more perfectly “pony”—the absolute refusal to move, the glaring side eye at me and all the little girl moxie going into trying to get her pony to do som**hing she has deemed “fun” for both of them. This is what childhood pony life looks like. 😂
Mimi actually came to us as a completely random pony that wandered into my aunt’s yard. She eventually found the owners, who were perfectly happy to not fetch their errant pony back (first red flag🤦♀️) and my aunt ended up keeping her. Shortly thereafter, she came and lived at our house and proceeded to teach Evie all that can be learned from life in proximity to a highly intelligent, vastly stubborn, opinionated, wee ornery pony.
Lessons such as:
1. No I won’t.
If wee ornery ponies say no I won’t, they won’t. You can save time if you just quit asking when they are clear on the NO. If they have well and truly decided, it’s not going to happen, and you better figure that out pretty quick. You can cajole, you can get mad, you can lay down and cry and none of your drama will move their iron clad little hearts. And sure, you can go ahead escalate things with a pony but they will happily ride that escalator of stubborn rage right up with you. You cannot win the fight if they have to take the gloves off. Don’t try. Those tiny hooves pack a helluva punch.
2. I will, but…
Wee ornery ponies may relent in some circumstances but there are always conditions. I don’t think any pony has ever actually engaged in unconditional surrender. They are experts at hammering out the details of any war time treaty before they give even an inch. Their demands may seem easy to concede to at first, a cookie here, a promise of grain there and then suddenly you are forking over a whole container of oatmeal cookies to keep them from committing acts of war on the farrier. For a moment, you will always think you have won, only to later realize they got you in the long game. Win the battle, yes…but never the war.
3. This is how it must be.
This bit, this saddle (or lack there of), this time of day to ride…wee ornery ponies rarely make you guess at their preferences. For example, Mimi let us know pretty quick that while she loves to be harnessed up and go for a drive (we were shocked and delighted to find out feral castaway Mimi was very nicely trained to pull a cart), she does not and will not wear driving blinders. It’s open bridle or she isn’t interested. While some equines will put their head down and do the work without complaint, wee ornery ponies rarely keep their opinions to themselves.
4. You are mine, but YOU, terrible fiend, are not.
Wee ornery ponies pick their friends and their enemies. If you end up in the friends column, you have it made. Screw up and find yourself in the bad person column because you do terrible and horrible things like provide them basic care such as hoof, trimming or deworming or vaccinations and you will soon find yourself the subject of much disdain. I have not yet found a way to get back to the good column once you’re in the bad. If anyone knows the route back, let me know. 😂
Being a wee ornery pony’s kid is a classroom all on its own. I think wee ornery ponies do an admirable job of preparing humans for a future job in fields such as being a personal assistant to a nearly mad criminal mastermind or perhaps the nursemaid to an orangutan coming down from a m**h bender or surviving a day in corporate America middle management. Either way, get the kid a pony…they’ll at least end up with some stories to tell. 😜
(and yes, Mimi remains at large 🤦♀️)