Pony Mare and Foal

When I was twelve, the family moved to a farm south of Austin, Texas. There, I was given a old Thoroughbred gelding, and a pony mare, named Missy by some neighbors. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"The pony was a half-wild creature that had never been trained properly. Because my father had left the military to return to school, we were poor, and with six kids, always on a tight budget. The family had little money to care for horses properly or to buy grain, a saddle, or even a decent fence. None of this mattered. I was determined to make it work.

"My parents bought enough wire to construct a triangular pen anchored by three cedars where the animals could be kept, with ten bales of hay as my Christmas present. On weekends, I rode a half-mile to the main road whose shoulders presented a lush crop of weedy Johnson grass. There, cutting my fingers until they bled on the serrated blades, I pulled grass by hand, tied it into bundles and hauled it home. No sacrifice was too great. Every morning I arose at 5:30 to care for my beasts before school. Those were the best years of my childhood.

"Horses set me free. I fashioned rope bridles and rode bareback. I became an explorer and rediscovered America. As a rancher, I scoured the range searching for lost steers. I was a hungry Indian scouting for bison. I stood on my steeds’ backs to steal the out-of-reach peaches and plums within a ten-mile radius. I imagined what it would be like to take a cayuse and follow the railroad right-of-way across America. I’d read about the Pan-American Highway and wondered if I could actually take a road all the way to Tierra del Fuego."

The top photo shows me bareback, with a rope bridle on Missy, while the bottom is of Missy and her filly foal. The farm life ended three years later when my father took a job in Pennsylvania. I sold the pregnant Missy and foal at side for 100 dollars.