Page 5 - SophiesPonyTalesJuly10C

CHAPTER 1 WHO AM I?

“Just who is this horse?” a lady asked. This When foaled, the owners of the farm won-
was our first carriage driving competition. In writing dered about my survival. Being not only small but
this the hope is you will find out who I am and how I because of a deformed left front hoof, trying to
become a champion competitive carriage driving stand and walk was difficult. Most foals, within
horse. hours of birth, can run and keep up with their
mothers. I couldn’t.
My name is Saint Gertrude. That is what is
written on my Morgan Horse registration certificate. Because of being foaled in a barn, there was
My friends also know me as Sophie. I was foaled not room to run. Getting upright on my feet and

(born) in the spring of 1989 on a farm in the little reaching my mother’s nipples to nurse was a strug-
town of Good Hope, Georgia. Hope was to become gle. Every day I became stronger and soon could
walk with only a slight limp. We soon left the barn
very important to me.
for the green pastures. There were other horses in
My mother - or dam, in horse talk - was a
the pastures, but we kept to ourselves. Soon I was
rescue. She was a very small Morgan named Molly.
running about the pastures, but my mother kept me
She was small for being a Morgan horse. The own-
from playing with the other foals. She didn’t trust
ers of the farm on which I was foaled had found her
the others in the pastures. That caused me to grow
in a small pen behind a house down the road. Molly
up lonely. The spring sun, and with the green grass
had been confined there for most of her three years
of Good Hope helped me to thrived and grow
of life. She was friendly toward people, but having
strong. The seasons came and went. I was separat-
never been around other horses she did not know
ed from my mother and put in a field with three
how to act with them.
other foals that had been born that year. All were
My father - or sire - was also a Morgan by bigger and stronger, requiring me to stay out of
the name of Hillview Rex. He had no record of win- their way.

ning any prizes, or becoming famous in any way. He Learning to run strengthened my weak foreleg.
was the same color as my mother or dam, chestnut. Fortunately, there was plenty of grass and daily
My color is chestnut from my nose to the tip of my each of us was taken into a stall and given a pail of
tail. Chestnut is in fact a reddish-brown color. Be- grain. Every day I was brushed and given fresh wa-

cause of my mother being small, my stature was ter. Other than that, little was done with me. With
small as well. little potential, an uncertain future awaited me.

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