Chapter 15: My Little Pony

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— Full chapters will appear in the printed published book. —

It was 1962 and I was 11 years old. I was getting to be quite independent at filling my days during the summer. Cliff and mom were gone more often than they were at home. I got used to being alone.

Animals came and went on the farm. We always had cows and chickens, and usually a horse or two. We sometimes had pigs, ducks, geese and goats. I had no idea where most of these animals came from or where they went. They appeared and disappeared.

We kept a halter on the horses so we could grab on and lead them around, or attach a rein to tie them up. If we wanted to ride a horse, we attached a rein to a bit in its mouth. They were not accustomed to that. They chomped at the bit and produced frothy spit. We had no saddles, so riding them was bare back only, and that was not so easy on our back sides. These were large animals, so I needed help to get on, either by standing on a railing at the side of the barn, or by having my brothers hoist me up. Once on top of the horse, I quickly tried to balance in the middle and held on to its mane. I controlled the horse’s direction left or right by pulling on the rein, and stopped it by pulling back, with appropriate verbal directions: “gee,” “haw” or “whoa.” Usually, the horse just walked around, not even at a trot. I didn’t try to make it go faster.

When we lived in British Columbia, we saw lots of cowboy shows: Bonanza, Have Gun — Will Travel, Gunsmoke, The Lone Ranger, Rawhide and such. Riding a horse looked easy, but the actors all had saddles and bridles with bits. I didn’t consider these finer details. Sometimes, when the horses were around the barn eating hay, I led one over to the side of the barn, stood on the wooden gate, grabbed the mane with both hands, pulled my body on top of its back, and hoped it stood still long enough so I could sit up and straddle it. If it moved away while I was doing that, I had to get down, lead it around again, until it stood still long enough with its back close enough to the fence. It was a challenge and often took some time and patience.

Our horses were not always very cooperative. Once I was on its back, the horse did whatever it wanted. Usually, it sauntered over to the hay pile again, put its head down, and continued to eat. This wasn’t that exciting, but it was fun to sit so high up on such a powerful animal. I wore my ordinary shoes or rubber boots so when I kicked it with my heels, the horse just swished its tail at me, slightly annoyed, as if I were a fly on its back. Eventually, I got bored with sitting there. Then, I had to slide off its back until my feet touched the ground, hoping it wouldn’t move while I did that. I knew the horse was in control, not me.

One Saturday afternoon after Cliff and mom had left, I could see the horses on the far field over the bridge, grazing in the pasture with a bunch of our cattle. I walked down the field in front of our house, over the fence, past the big pump, over the bridge, and up the hill to where they were. I took one of the horses by the halter and led it over to a cattle-loading ramp at one end of the field, quite a distance from the top of the hill where the rest of the herd was.

I knew I had to let go of the horse’s halter so I could go around to the lower side of the ramp to get on it, so I hoped it would stay there. That didn’t work very well. As soon as I let go, the horse slowly wandered away to eat some more grass.

Finally, on the third try, it stood there long enough for me to make my maneuver. I knew I had to be quick. I realized that I should have brought a rein and then I could have tied up the horse so it couldn’t wander off, but then how would I untie the rein once I was on its back. It was complicated trying to do this on my own.

I had just enough time to run up the ramp and slide myself onto the horse’s back, when it started to move. It was a stupid thing to do, but I didn’t know any better. I should have never tried this when no one was home and I was by myself. I barely had enough time to grab on to its mane and hang on for dear life. The horse took off like a shot!

Once I managed to get over the first few seconds of sheer terror, I felt an exhilarating feeling as the horse galloped at full speed back to the herd. When it reached the other horses, it stopped abruptly, put its head down, and went back to grazing as if nothing had happened. I took a deep breath and slid off its back. That was enough excitement for me that day. Had I fallen off the horse at that speed, I didn’t know how badly I could have been hurt, and it would have been a long time before anyone came to look for me.

Cliff brought home a pony one day. He didn’t do this for me, that’s for sure. It could have been from one of his deals that he made at the beer parlour. Maybe he traded another animal for it.

Ponies were rare around here. Farmers considered a pony to be more of an ornament and novelty, rather than an investment. Farmers could make money by raising cattle, pigs and chickens, and horses were useful to haul wood or pull a plow. Ponies did not have very good potential to make money, they were not very cost effective. Cliff was probably coerced into purchasing this pony when he was drunk, otherwise it didn’t make sense to buy it.

I was almost too big to ride the pony, but I was determined to do so. I tried to have fun riding him, but he didn’t move very fast. My feet almost touched the ground when I rode him, so the only way I could fall off was if he bucked me off, so it was much safer than riding a full-grown horse. I must have been a heavy load for the poor little guy. One time he bit me on the leg. For such a cute animal, he could be quite ornery. I was much more careful with him after that. I was happy to have the pony in our animal menagerie, he added a little bit of amusement and variety to my otherwise unjoyful life.

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Cliff and Mr. Campbell decided that we should charge 25 cents for the pony rides, two loops around the building. The men waited around long enough to see how the pony rides were going. I wasn’t sure if they had to get permission or a permit to do this, but I doubted it. One of the girls from Mr. Campbell’s group offered to help me, so she took hold of the reins to lead the pony while I stayed by the pony’s side to make sure the rider didn’t fall off. Mr. Campbell took photos of me and the other boy giving pony rides. Once we got started, Cliff and Mr. Campbell disappeared into the Wabigoon tavern and we didn’t see them again until the fair was over, around 6 p.m.

The two ponies were kept quite busy all day, giving delight to little children. It was a pleasure for me to see how much the children smiled and enjoyed the rides. The pony was definitely more suitable for small kids than for me. By early afternoon, I was getting quite hungry. The other kids brought over some food to the boy who was handling the other pony. I gave them some of my pony ride money and asked them to get me some lunch, a hot dog and a pop. Later, they got me an ice cream cone, too.

While taking children around on rides, I met a group of girls my age from Wabigoon. They were very friendly and wanted to know where we were from. They petted the ponies and hung around for a little while. I enjoyed talking to them while waiting for the next child to come along.

These girls pointed out this good-looking guy who was talking to the boy with the other pony. I watched him carefully, but tried not to stare at him. He reminded me of Elvis with his slicked-back hairstyle and black leather jacket. I liked the way he smiled, the way he stood there, like Dobie Gillis waiting for the girls to flock around him. I made a mental note of his name, Albert. The girls glanced over at him and smiled, I could see they were trying to be a little flirtatious.

It would have been wonderful for me to have a boyfriend like Albert, but that was a dim hope and I knew that. I was allowed to dream, however. I would have almost fainted if he had paid any attention to me at all. He swaggered over to talk to the girls briefly, but didn’t say anything to me. The girls seemed charmed by his presence. I was hoping that he might ask me my name or talk to me about something, to show some interest. These girls were much more attractive and socially comfortable than I was. I was too shy to say anything to him, and I would not be very good at carrying on a conversation with such a handsome boy. It was in my best interests to be quiet. By keeping silent, it prevented me from saying anything that might embarrass me, as I had learned in the past.

Albert made a motion with his head to indicate they should head over to join the crowd at the fair, and the giggly girls quickly followed him. I watched them as they strolled over to disappear into the crowds, fawning all over him. I wished I could have tagged along. But it wasn’t long before another little customer came along, and then I was busy giving more pony rides.

Later on, some of the girls came back, looking disappointed and somewhat angry. They explained that they saw Albert take a girl under a nearby bridge, kissing and necking with her, with some under-the-shirt fondling as well. The way they said it led me to believe this kind of behaviour was slightly scandalous. They called the girl a hussy. I took from that comment that the girl did not have a good reputation. They were probably just jealous of her. I knew I was.

At the end of the day when the fair was packing up, we walked over to the truck, loaded the ponies into the back and waited. Cliff and Mr. Campbell finally came out of the tavern. Both had been drinking all afternoon, but Mr. Campbell was supposedly sober enough to drive us back. No one worried about driving while intoxicated. I was not sure how much the drinking and driving laws were enforced in those days. I bet almost everyone who left the tavern was somewhat drunk. A driver might have been stopped if they had an accident, was weaving all over the place, or was speeding. But other than that, it was quite common to spend the day at a bar and then drive home. Mom and Cliff did it all the time.

Mr. Campbell asked the boy how much money he made. The boy dug in his pockets and handed over a bunch of coins. Mr. Campbell counted out half of it, and gave the other half to the boy. The boy smiled and was quite happy.

Cliff asked me for the money I collected. I handed it to him, hoping that he would use Mr. Campbell’s nice gesture as an example, and give me half. Cliff pocketed all the money and didn’t give me a cent. At least I was smart enough to get a free lunch and ice cream out of my earnings before he took it all. If I had been smarter, I would have hidden some of the money. He would have never known how much money I had made, but I was honest and innocent.

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Besides having a new teacher, there was now a new rule on school bus transportation. This affected only me, in a way that was different from anyone else in our school.

I remembered one of the school kids taunting me that previous June, near the end of the school year. I hadn’t paid much attention to what she said. She lived on the south side of the highway, just over two miles from the school, and she said it for one reason. She wanted to upset me. “You won’t be able to ride the school bus anymore. You don’t live far enough away. You live within two miles. We don’t. We’ll get to ride the bus but you won’t. You’ll have to walk to school now. Nyah, nyah, nyah.”

Apparently, our farmhouse was about 1.8 miles from the school, that number stuck in my mind. So, this was the new rule, I couldn’t ride the school bus anymore. My mother must have been notified about this, but she did not talk to me about it. I was not included in any important conversations, and most of the time I was not aware of any decisions that were made. I had learned that children were not important enough to be informed of anything. At least, that seemed to be the attitude in our household.

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The long road home after school was a lonely time for me. School ended at 3:30 p.m. and as I left the building, I watched all the other kids get on the bus. I sometimes walked with a group of the kids along the highway, but all of them arrived to their homes in less than 15 minutes. I always stopped at Ed’s store to check for mail.

Cliff had a subscription to the Western Producer newspaper, which I read every month. The middle spread was full of short stories, poems and drawings, all submitted by farm kids. I wrote poems for it under the pseudonym of Kitty, and I was always so excited when I saw that one of them was published. I cut them out and kept them in my dresser drawer. It made me so proud.

I also had a pen pal named Darlene from Airdrie, Alberta. We wrote long letters back and forth about once a month. I found her town on a map, it seemed like a world away. She lived on a large, productive farm and we wrote mostly about animals and school. Her farm life was very different from mine, and I didn’t tell her what a sad life I had. I kept it light and happy.

After stopping at Ed’s, I made my way down the highway a little farther to the corner where our road met the highway, where the bus let me off in the morning and where Raymond waited for the high school bus. Once I turned north, there wasn’t much to see. After I passed the dilapidated haunted house, there was nothing but trees and an empty field here and there. It took me about half an hour before I could see our house in the distance. Only another 10 minutes or so to go. I passed by Mr. Crigger’s house. Sometimes, after I passed his driveway, I turned around and saw Mr. Crigger drive the school bus into his yard and park it. I was almost home.

I got to our gate and opened it. Blacky came running out to meet me. I went into the house and read the note that Cliff left, giving me the orders for the day. I changed my clothes, went to the barn and the chicken coop, and diligently did my chores. Then I came in the house.

We started to get TV shows around then, so I could watch American Bandstand with Dick Clark. I loved to see the kids dancing, and watched their different moves. It was a way I could keep in touch with the teenage lives of normal children. I was so lucky now that I could watch TV to help pass the long evenings by myself.