SALTY OF SLEEPY CREEK STABLES
Christmas time & mango mischief Meet Salty, the cheeky pony from Sleepy Creek Stables. His adventures will adorn the pages of HorseVibes, and remind all of us why we love our little ponies – even when they’re naughty.
I
’m not sure that Santa is likely to visit me this year. Some of the locals around here might argue that my name won’t make it on to his ‘nice’ list.
I don’t think that it’s really a fair thing though, because after all, what happened last Christmas Eve was NOT my fault. Well, not entirely anyway. And the lessons I MAY have taught the rest of the crew weren’t really my fault either. I didn’t expect them to be used again. And again. And again. Throughout the year. In fact, pretty much on a weekly basis ever since, especially by Blackie and Prince who (and I have to say, it was rather surprising, even to me) were remarkably quick to pick up the knack of unlatching the paddock gates and leading each other, together with the rest of the Sleepy Creek Riding School crew, down the garden path. Quite literally.
Having careened down the driveway, catching the scent of freedom in the night air, our happy little herd (consisting of seven riding school ponies of various ages and sizes) galloped merrily down the bitumen road. Even my older friends took time out to have a bit of a kick and play, their arthritic joints, wisdom and experience, that ordinarily would have made them too staid and sensible to embark on such an adventure, forgotten and left behind in the paddock. But as we were making our way down the road, something caught my attention. I could smell them before I could see them. My favourite fruit tree of all at this time you humans call Christmas – the mango! There, stretching out before me, beckoning me to come closer, was a sea of the sweet fruits, lying so temptingly on the ground (okay, a little too mushy, looking back, I can see that now). I thought I’d found heaven. Or, at the
very least, I thought, all my Christmases had come at once! I couldn’t resist stopping for a mouthful. Or a few mouthfuls. Actually, I’ll confess, I ate quite a few of them. The thought that I would end up paying for it with a massive pain in the belly never entered my head, I have to say. I took my time, wanting to savour the full experience of consuming 19 overripe mangos until (the aptly named) Mischief, decided I needed a hurry up and reminded me that I needed to catch up to the rest of the gang by taking a rather large chunk out of my rump with his teeth. But oh, it was so worth it. And so we continued on, through another gate and down another driveway. We were entering the neighbour’s yard that they maintained with careful precision. Not a blade of grass was out of place, not a leaf permitted to remain on the ground for long
