Linda

The History of My Horse History

The History of My Horse History

For those of you who don’t know me I’m the Pony Lady, aka the Howarth Park pony lady, a title I have been aptly named and known as for the last 28 years. On October 25 we closed the barn door on yet another successful Howarth Park season and to commemorate this auspicious occasion I called Mr. Jim Grady of KZST DJ Hall of Fame to request a shout out of thanks to all of our loyal family following and the kids that make our pony corral go round. Grady of course opted to have me do it myself and quickly had me on-air at which time he began peppering me with pony ride trivia questions such as how long had I been in the business of horse business and during that time how many pony rides had I given?

Save a Horse, Learn to Listen

Save a Horse, Learn to Listen

Milo is a proud and handsome bay gelding. Part Peruvian Paso and part who knows what, he stands tall even though by horse standards he is quite short. One can barely see his arresting brown eyes hidden beneath a mass of wild forelock. They say the eyes tell all and Milo’s both beckon and caution one to approach with great care.  Once upon a time not too long ago there existed a barn-size chip on Milo’s shoulder, one of defiance born from distrust. A nearly impossible burden to bear, Milo retaliated as his attempts to communicate a growing discomfort with his human partners continued to fall on deaf ears and untrained eyes. It was as if no one was listening.

Growing Up Hungry for Horses

Growing Up Hungry for Horses

I remember as a second grader walking the two blocks necessary to get to my school, Village Elementary, in Santa Rosa. Of course this was back in the day when it was perfectly ok for kids to walk alone to school, but I was not alone. As soon as I left my house my youthful imagination and wishful thinking transplanted me off of my well traveled main street and onto the dusty trail that I called home. Here I would become one with my gallant steed as we effortlessly galloped our way to school. I could actually feel the wind in my hair and the gentle sway of my horse as he carried me, oh so proudly to my destination. Upon arriving I would gracefully dismount as all of my fellow classmates looked on in awe and amazement. At the tender age of seven I already had the heart and soul for my equine soul mates.  In reality, Annie Oakley I wasn’t, skinny Linney, I was. An appropriate nickname as I was always hungry, hungry for horses that is.