Today the quality of my time at the barn made me think repeatedly of a comment my friend Katherine made when I brought her out to meet Steen last summer. At one point I handed her a hair-brush and asked if she wanted to tackle the snarls in Steen’s mane. After a few strokes she said, “Wow, he’s just like a really big my-little-pony.” I laughed and said something like, “Yeah, except you can ride him.”
Today I wasn’t laughing, or riding. Today my gigantic my-little-pony resembled less the mint collector’s specimen kept on a shelf above the reach of children and more the constant companion of a careless or absent-minded child after having been forgotten in a place like the muddy driveway, where it has been run over several times by slow-moving vehicles and possibly worried by a stray dog. Today I felt like the remorseful owner who later finds said neglected toy and after a few minutes spent establishing that this horse-shaped mud-cake is indeed the beloved companion of days past, attempts rehabilitation. I found myself assuring Steen of things like, “The brown stains will fade from the white areas with time,” and “Don’t worry, it will grow back,” when I had to trim off the mud-clogged bottom inch of his tale.
Of course Steen, like the misused toys of this world, is utterly content to carry on in his filthiness. It is for our own pride and edification that we little girls must attempt to keep our ponies pretty.
It’s a losing battle at this time of year, I think. Thanks, and good luck with your light-colored horse as well.
Heh, yeah. Trekker was covered with caked on mud last week, so I feel your pain. I still haven’t managed to get it all completely out of his fur…but it’ll probably shed out eventually. Good luck in your endeavors to keep your partially white horse clean.