why can't we all just get along?

She looks so cute and innocent, doesn't she?

That's our new pony. Er, um, WAS our new pony. She left our farm yesterday, headed towards another new home. She's a really wonderful little horse, who really adored me and the kids, and really HATED (with a burning passion) our little Shetland Pony. She wasn't too fond of my mare, either, but then again, the feeling was obviously quite mutual, and my mare chose to just stay away -- far, far away -- from her. But the little guy just wouldn't take no for an answer, and insisted on trying to approach her at every opportunity. So we kept them seperated for the past month, hoping they'd work it out eventually. And he did his darndest to -- he was as cute as he can be (which is pretty amazingly cute). Yet her response was increasing aggitation -- she kicked at him (via the fence) at every opportunity. The final straw came when she put a hole through the side of her temporary shelter in the wee hours of the morning this past week. For her own safety, and that of our other ponies, we had to find her a new place to live.

Fortunately, our farrier (a person who trims horse feet for a living) had another client whose older gelding was in mourning over the loss of their pony this past winter. She was anxious to give our pony a good home with plenty of love, attention, and less annoying companionship than a pint-sized naive pony boy drooling over the fence at her.

We are all pretty broken-hearted, she's such an easy horse to love, and we all shed some tears over her leaving. Well, all except for my mare, who was doing the happy dance of victory as the horse trailer pulled away. If a horse could smile, her grin would have been ear to ear. I told her to keep smiling -- this means that she's going to have to suck it up and let the kids ride her.