I was telling Sarah about her mother and her pony Priscilla the other day, and that got me looking through old photos again.
When Suzanne was ten or eleven, she and Priscilla were pretty much inseparable. She rode her, showed her, decorated her for Halloween, swam with her . . . everything a little girl and a good pony could do together, they did.
They cleaned up pretty good . . .
But this was a more typical shot.
Priscilla was a tiny little thing, for a Welsh; under 11 hands. When she could put her feet down and let Priscilla walk out from under her, Suzanne went on to Drake and Megan; full-sized horses. They were great, too. But the little buckskin mare was the pony that refuted all the stories about bad-tempered ponies. She was the best.