Sold for a song
We tried a few names but when I said Sukee, my pony nodded her head (and snatched a sneaky mouthful of grass). Dad told me she had been flown in to carry rods over the mountains but now the cable car was up and running, she'd been sold for a song.
Twinkle is my name and I've always loved stars. I traced a six-pointed one on Sukee's forehead and she twitched her hairy ears. Her fur was sooo soft!
Meanwhile, the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed.
I handed Dad my crutches and he lifted me on to Sukee's back. Ouch! Her backbone dug into my you-know-what.
"Grip with them thunder thighs," said Dad, untying the reins and pulling us along the pavement towards home.
I swung to the rhythm of Sukee's giant steps, grabbing her shaggy mane to catch my balance. Motorists slowed down. Cyclists stopped and stared. Wild dogs ran for cover.
Dad says you need space to keep a pony, but that is one thing he has. His house is a bit of a dump, but there is a field nearby. A big field. Ponies are vegetarians so grass is all they eat. You also need:
- a halter (to tie your pony to a post);
- a bridle (so you can steer and stop);
- a saddle (Dad says he is saving);
- a grooming kit (to clean your pony);
- money (Mum said, when she found out about Sukee).
As we neared home, Dad's housemate Ronny waved from their vegetable patch. Sukee flicked her ears back and snorted when BC -- Ronny's dog -- bounded up to greet us.
Dad tethered Sukee to a fence and filled a bucket with water.
"It's down to the beach tomorrow," he said. I cannot wait to tell you what happened there!
Until next week: toodle pip!
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