And then what happened? Or, my first horse!

Once my dad retired from the Air Force, he went home. To Arkansas. Which us kids thought was a great idea. My mom, a California native, wasn't too sure about the Arkansas thing. But that was a stand-by-your-man kind of time, so she came along as well. We ended up on 80 acres in Center Ridge Arkansas, right by Woolverton mountain. We lived on a dirt road! Again, kids were thinking "Awesome!" And mom was thinking, "I'm not so sure about this."

My biggest disappointment was that there was not a horse on the property the minute we got there.  As a matter of fact it took way too long to get a horse. Seemed like Forever but was probably only a few months later, we got a pretty silver dapple Shetland pony--named her Merrylegs, of course--and her white filly. The filly was mine, I named her Juney Moon. Get it? White? Moon? It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Not my Merrylegs but a good example of silver dapple

For what it's worth, everything on the farm had a name. All the cars, the tractor, the various farm trucks, chickens, cows, cats, and dogs were named. It was a big thing for the family.
Merrylegs was "broke to ride," even my brother, who had no interest or experience in horses, could ride her. That was when I took a nap or was working with Juney Moon. The rest of the time I rode poor Merrylegs. I say "poor Merrylegs' because she was way too little for me. I'm sincerely glad that there is no actual proof of those rides, since in my memory Merry was a little bigger than real life and I was a little smaller than I probably really was.

My Art of Riding book today!

My horse training tool box contained everything learned by reading The Art of Riding: Concise Handbook for Beginners and Advanced Horsemen by Lt.Col M. F. McTaggart and something called lunging. My dad helped by taking a whip and chasing the pony around for a while until she caught on that if she went in a circle she wouldn't get in trouble. Ah, the forgiving nature of the horse.
Even as a nine year old, I felt the training methods available were harsh. Unnecessarily harsh. But I didn't have access to resources that felt the way I did.
I have always felt a deep connection to the horse, like they knew me even though we didn't speak the same language. All my horses have had manes wet with my tears the times that I felt no one understood me or my burdens were too heavy and retreated to the comfort of the barn.