Humor

A PONY FOR THE CHILDREN

Text by Don Turney

Illustrations by Kateri Weiss

Our two boys, ages eight and 10, came waving the classified section of the newspaper at me. The ad that excited them actually was too good to be true. A Shetland pony for only $50. My wife and I had often talked about getting a pony for the boys. We had the space on our five acres in Kellner Canyon near Globe. We had a shed that could be used as a barn, and, truthfully, I had always wanted a pony myself.

We telephoned and then followed some "you-can't-miss-it directions" to the Arizona and Texas Cattle Company. Prepared for a Ponderosa-type spread presided over by a local version of Pa Cartwright, the piles of junk, old cars, and rolls of rusted barbed wire jarred us just a little, as did the main ranch house, an ancient travel trailer.

From this hovel came a man accompanied by a swirling pack of bluish spotted dogs, leaping and bouncing around him. Several times, with a kick to the ribs and a swat with his cowboy hat, he sent dogs flying. However, they didn't seem to mind and came back for more.

"You told the folks about Flower? Yep, I can see you have two little cowboys with you. Just call me Arizona Tex. Flower's the little Shetland's name."

Tex was rather tall and heavy, muscular except for the midsection encircled by a wide leather belt fastened with a real horseshoe. He appeared to have two stomachs, one below and one above the belt. When he took off his hat to address my wife he displayed white tousled hair and a pasty white forehead above a sweaty face. The effect was that of an Easter egg painted half white and half red.

"Let's go down to the corrals and see if we can find that little gelding of yours."

The boys beamed. It wasn't too difficult to find the gelding. There were no other horses anywhere. Flower must have been his entire Heard. Like a statue, Flower stood in a little pen. His matted, cream-colored mane completely covered his eyes. His tail, festooned with little round mud balls, dragged on the ground.

Arizona Tex asked the boys, "Did you bring your bridle with you? If you did, we could try him out."

The boys frowned at me as if I had forgotten the bridle we didn't have.

"Well, since you didn't bring your tack, we'll just use one of my halters until you get your own."

The halter looked more like a noose to me as Tex pulled it very tight and held Flower's head in a viselike grip under one arm. I helped the boys mount up, and the five of us started a funereal march around the yard.

Flower's feet were the biggest, flattest feet I had ever seen on any animal. I questioned Arizona Tex about them. "When you get him home, you'll need to trim his feet, and I know you boys will wear down lots more horseshoes," he yelled.

I guess Tex was used to yelling at the pack of dogs for he talked so loudly I unconsciously kept looking for a volume control to turn down.

"Yes, sir, the price is only $50 for your animal. I'm goin' to throw in the halter just 'cause you're such good little buckaroos,"

The boys beamed.

So far, Flower had been referred to as our gelding, our mount, our pony, and our animal. I felt I had to buy him. We agreed on the $50, but we needed some advice because we'd never owned a horse.

"We have a shed but no corral," I volunteered.

Tex asked, "You got any two-inch iron pipe layin' around your place?"

We didn't.

"Well, I just happen to have some and extra railroad ties for your posts. You'll need about 16 ties for a good-sized corral. I'll let you steal 'em for $7 each. How's your supply of 2 by 8s?" I confessed we didn't have a one on hand.

"You'll need about a dozen and a half 16-footers. I'll throw them in for 50 cents a foot. I'll bring them when I bring your hay. You'll want some good hay, won't you? The kind Flower is used to. I've got some good 3-wire alfalfa, and my trailer holds about 30 bales. I deliver free."

I agreed to all this while mentally canceling Disneyland, the new roof, and meat for the next year. But it would be worth it to see our little tykes galloping around the acreage.

We had to hurry home and get to work because the next day Tex would deliver the ties, lumber, and hay, and then, when we had the corral finished, he would deliver Flower.

We all beamed.

The boys tried to pet Flower goodbye. Flower looked as if he were going to sneeze. His upper lip quivered; his nostrils flared, and he displayed a row of green teeth. So we just waved goodbye and hurried home to start digging postholes.

By the end of the next day, we had one hole dug and had started on another one. I discovered that our land was six inches of dirt over solid rock. After about another hour, the second hole was up to my shoe tops.

Then, down the driveway came the