Why is it called a Pony?

Ponies are great. Especially ones that are big enough that an adult can ride them. The biggest benefit? They’re close to the ground. 

Where did the name come from, though? It sure doesn’t sound like “horse”, or anything even remotely called “horse”. Is it actually a horse? The word “pony” most likely came from the Scottish word “powny”. At the time, that specifically meant a horse that was smaller than 13 hands tall. (A “Hand” is a unit of measurement for equines that equals 4 inches. So a 13 hand “powny” would be 52 inches at the withers (the bump right between their neck and back)), or 4.3 feet tall. In comparison, a 17-hand horse is 68 inches at the withers, and 5.6 feet tall. That doesn’t count the head and neck. A 17-hand horse is taller than me, and when you include that lovely head/neck combination, they tower over me. Some people like that. Me, not so much. 

Such a pretty girl (the pony)

This is why I love my pony Willa. She’s big enough for me to ride. I can see over her back. She’s sturdy, and will be able to carry me and a saddle without any trouble. She’s 13.2 hands tall (so taller than the Scottish “powny”), which means she's 54 inches (4-1/2 feet tall). Big enough.

Of course have a I ridden her yet? Noooooo. Not her fault, I’m out of practice and definitely want to make sure she and I are on the same page before I get on her back. So we’re working on that, and also her steering, which is not so good. Brakes are great, though, very important. I like ponies with more whoa than go.

I think ponies have gotten a bad rap over the years. They are thought to be stubborn and willful, and also sneaky. Willa is none of these things. In fact, I’ve never met a stubborn, willful, sneaky pony ever. Maybe I’m lucky. I’m sure there are lots of stories out there (let’s hear ‘em!).

When I was a kid there was a boy down the road from my Grandma who had a pony named Red. The boy (Butch) was a couple years older than me, but I was crushing on his pony. Butch got tired of me real fast, and did a couple tricks which were meant to discourage me from riding his pony. Didn't work, though. I even rode Red in a big field, where, in a display of exuberance (because I think he didn't get out much), he ran away with me. Having watched a lot of Roy Rogers and National Velvet TV shows, I knew what to do - I pulled on one rein, and we went in a smaller and smaller circle until Red finally stopped. Good boy!

Mei-tu

Years later I used the same technique on a half-Arab who was everything a pony was supposed to be - stubborn, sneaky, smart. He would slow down and almost stop, and the second I let up on that rein, away we went again. It was a long ride. I'm not sure who won that round, but that horse taught me so much about going with the flow - and realizing that wasn't really what I wanted. Years later comes Willa, so much like my beloved Wilma it makes my heart hurt and soar at the same time. 

Wilma 

I know my pony Willa is an awesome teacher. She has a lot to say. I will listen. Closely.