A Pony for Christmas - The gift that kept on giving

Yes, I admit it, I was one of those lucky kids who received a pony for Christmas. My brother and sister both had horses during that time and the equine bug had bitten me too - hard. When asked what I wanted for Christmas, that year, I mentioned I'd like my dad to either build me a life-size hobby horse (he was one of those dads that could build anything in the shop) or a get me a real pony. My parents chose the real pony route. Unbeknownst to me, they went pony shopping, taking my older sister Susan along as a test rider. They found and then purchased a nice little pony named Dolly. When she was delivered, about a month before Christmas, my parents arranged to have her stabled next door at the neighbors and told me she was their pony. I bought it hook, line and sinker. They even had me feeding and mucking out her stall, telling me the neighbors were short handed and they needed the help.

That Christmas eve, neither my sisters nor I could sleep very well (what kid can?). We spent the night playing Go Fish and speculating on what might be under the tree. Occasionally, my Dad would growl up to us to "Be quiet and go to sleep!" We'd quiet down, but I don't recall much sleeping. Beginning at about 3AM, one of us (we'd probably send the youngest because they would meet with less resistance) padded down the hallway and knocked on my parent's bedroom door to inquire if we could go downstairs to open our presents. Not surprisingly, the answer was an emphatic "No." My parents held out until about 5:30AM before finally consenting to our request.

We waited upstairs, while Mom went down to make the coffee and Dad turned on the Christmas tree lights. We were told we had to have our robes and slippers on before we could come downstairs. We were absolutely beside ourselves with excitement. Dad gave the all clear and down the stairs we galloped. The sight that greeted us was magical. A brightly lit Christmas tree with ever so many colorful packages underneath! It took a nine year old's breath away. We paused just for a moment to take it all in and then dove for the presents. On this particular Christmas, there was a medium sized, white box with a large red bow with my name on it. I unwrapped the bow and lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful white, flocked model horse with a flowing mane and tail. There was also a note which told me that Dolly, the white pony in our neighbor's stable was mine for keeps! I was astounded. I had a pony of my own! Such an amazing gift. After thanking my smiling parents profusely, I immediately got dressed and ran over to the neighbor's house to bring Dolly home to our barn.

My Christmas pony Dolly

She was a wonderful pony and quite a talented jumper. I wasn't experienced enough to jump but my older sister, Susan, would occasionally take Dolly over some obstacles after my ride. We rode her like that all through the spring. As so often happens to school age children, I came down with a cold one morning later that spring and Mom sent me to back to bed. Back then, when one of us got sick another sibling had to take over the chores of the invalid. That particular morning, Susan went out to feed Dolly for me along with her horse Princess (I know, those names make me wince now too - but, I suppose they could have been worse). I was lying in bed listening to all of the weekday morning sounds our family made: my mom down in the kitchen packing lunches and making breakfast, my dad in the bathroom shaving, my brother stomping around overhead in his attic bedroom as he got ready for school, when all of the sudden I heard a door bang open and an anguished cry come from Susan downstairs. My Dad heard it as well and he stopped mid-shave and hollered down to my mother "What's happening down there?" We heard more crying only this time it came from both my mother and my sister. Fearing the worst, my Dad, clad only in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, wiping shaving cream from his face, along with my brother and I clambered downstairs. We were met by my Mom and my sister Susan crying hysterically. "What's happened?" my Dad asked Mom. She could only look at him and cry. He turned to my sister and repeated the question. Finally, she blurted out between sobs "Dolly had a baby!" They were tears of happiness and not sorrow. We all rushed out to the barn. When we looked into Dolly's stall she was calmly chewing her hay. Then we saw it, a small tan face peeking around from behind Dolly's rump. The mare moved to the right and revealed a perfect, beautiful fuzzy foal. Dolly had done this all by herself without any help and surprised us all. We didn't even know she was pregnant! We thought she had a "hay belly." Which, if you knew anything about our family and our lack of equine knowledge, its pretty par for the course.

My sister jumping Dolly with baby Brandy inside sailing along for the ride.

We named the foal Brandy, after my mom's favorite cocktail at the time a Brandy Alexander (his coat was the same creamy tan color). Like the other animals in our lives at that time he brought us many years of great joy. He was a gift within a gift. So I guess it just goes to show, while you should never look a gift horse in the mouth, you may want to check what's inside it's belly.

This is the only photo we still have of Brandy. He's peeking out of the stall window on the left.
You can just barely see Dolly through the lilac tree, doing the same on the right.

BUFFALO BARN

7x5 inches, oil on linen canvas, 2015

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This barn is located south of Oak Harbor, Washington on Whidbey Island. I think I had mentioned, while working on this piece, that the fencing was giving me fits. There was just so much of it. But I persevered and eventually completed this painting of a “home where the buffalo roam”.