Any more wierd pet stories from your childhood?
Here's another one from my childhood, growing up on a Haiti mission in the 1960s:
After my two Haitian mustangs sneaked a breeding behind my back (my mare untied her tether rope and went visiting), their foal, Suki, was born in 1969. He spent a lot of time galloping back and forth between his parents, who were tethered out to graze.
I’d hear the drumming of tiny hoof beats flash past my bedroom window at night, accompanied by high-pitched squeaks, and during day the colt included us in his visitation rounds as well.
I’d always stop to play tag with him, then hug and half lift him, ruffling his wispy mane while he gummed my arm happily (no teeth yet), as young foals do.
After my mom's threat of punishment if I let a horse in the house again, I remembered to keep the front door latched, and only let Suki indoors when my parents were gone.
One day as I approached the house I noticed the screen door partly ajar. My blood froze, but I went indoors quickly, hoping to avert possible disaster.
Too late.
There sat my dad in the old metal “butterfly chair” near the door, our missionary neighbors, the Hodges, seated across from him, holding cups of tea. Nobody was moving.
Standing next to my dad, chewing contently on his arm, was Suki.
My dad looked bemused and the Hodges seemed to be having a struggle with their faces, but I didn’t stop to think about it.
Apologizing, I scurried over, wrapped my arms around Suki and half carried him out the front door.
Nobody said a word, and my mom never mentioned it later, so I assume the Hodges didn’t rat me out, and my dad was apparently unaware of my mom’s threat.
Edie Hodges was cool, though, as we kids had already found out.
Soon after they arrived at the mission and moved next door to our family, my mom came home one night to our stereo blasting loud music from one of the radio station’s “censored” records.
She told us to turn it down, and in the middle of her lecture on how we should be considerate of our new neighbors, we heard a knock on the door.
It was Edie and Wayne Hodges. She said she’d come over to ask us turn up the music because they couldn’t hear it very well anymore (!).
Well, that was enough for us..we invited the Hodges in to join the party, and Edie was cool in our books from then on!
Too bad we weren't neighbors. I rode my pony Cutter bareback and bridleless like you did. I was always an "Indian", running and hiding from the cavalry. I didn't know about cultural appropriation then, I just thought my own lack of interesting genetics was boring.
Think the time spent riding my pony like that helps with my mounted archery too.
Sweet story. If you haven't read The Yearling, read it! It's a great story about a boy that loved a wild pet. I didn't know they had mustangs outside of the US southwest.
I loved that book as a kid. Lightning and La Brujah (an Akhal Teke throw-back mare) were Haitian mustangs..the original mustangs. Haiti used to be a horse supermarket for the new world, with fine Spanish, Arabic, and Turkish horse stock being bred there for importation.
The Haiti African slaves rebelled in 1791, killed off Napoleon's mighty army, and then began using the horses for domestic chores and riding without caring for them or gelding them. The strong horses who could survive on little care or food were what survived.
This is similar to what produced the North American mustangs..feral escaped horses multiplied into wild herds and bred at will.