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Pogo Is About As Complicated As Donuts
 By IggyPogo   •   31st Mar 2012   •   3,022 views   •   9 comments
Horse StoryPogo is about as complicated as donuts. Heís sweet and soft, and very fat. When I first met him, neither of us knew much about jumping and Pogo had previously never been ridden in an English saddle or had felt an English bit against his ever-eating mouth. There was something about him though, that told me he was special.

My mom was the first to meet Pogoís owner. We were looking for a new house and Mom was just driving along the road when she came upon Pogoís owner, Lori, on her paint gelding named Etch. Mom started talking to Lori and they decided that I could come and help her train Pogo. This was four years ago. Unfortunately, we never got around to going to see the horses and I quickly forgot about the conversation.

A few weeks later...
It was by mistake that Lori discovered Pogo could jump! A cow got into Pogoís pasture and since Pogo was afraid that the gentle-spotted creature would take out an oven and cook him, Pogo leaped over the 4' pasture fence! Simple as that. Lori didnít want to start jumping Pogo, so Mom and her got together again and decided that I would help Pogo learn to jump.

I fancied myself as a good rider at the time since I could canter bareback and I was experienced with small jumps, but Pogo had a lot to teach me!

I donít know why, but Iíd always thought of Pogo as a chestnut. No particular reason, except for Mom said he was brown. When I got out of the car and looked around the farm to meet Pogo for the first time it was surprising to me that Pogo was a bay. But I didnít know that he was, all I knew was that the bay in the corner of the stable was special. I went right up to him and started stroking his face.

Lori was behind me and cleared her throat as I starred at Pogo. I turned around and she introduced me to the bay. I was delighted since this meant I could ride the special bay, and in fact so delighted I didnít notice the two black-haired, brown-eyed girls behind her that would soon become my best friends. They are Megan and Macey, and Megan has saved my life (okay, sanity) more than once.

Horse Story

On my first ride with Pogo I was extremely surprised. Iíd always ridden calm, smooth ponies. Pogo was young, vibrant, and therefore a bit mischievous. As for smooth, we took the horses for a quick run in the large field and Pogo was anything but! I rocketed forwards, then back, curling over the horn and tugging frantically at the reins trying to make the strange new horse slow down. Finally, I remembered to turn him and we looped in a large circle until he slowed down. I sat back and groaned. Well, this is going be fun.

A few months later...
I could definitely feel myself falling in love with Pogo. We had been through, well, not so much, but he taught me how to fall, how to stick a rear and even ride at night. Oh, and most importantly - bays look good in rainbow halters!

After a while, though, I began questioning whether Pogo really loved me, or the thousands of treats I bestowed on him. I began looking for signs - a whinny, maybe a nuzzle, just little signs that maybe, just maybe, this special horse liked me as much as I loved him.

Finally, I got my sign!

One misty morning when we were camping, I had just fed Pogo his oats (he eats just as much as any normal size horse, even though heís the third smallest in the barn) and was about to feed the rest of the horses when he nickered. I turned back and gave him a pat on the neck and he put his muzzle over my back and pulled me towards him, like a little hug. Some people may call this dominance, but Iíd call it love.

Pogo was cute and adorable, but also a pig. One of the riders at our barn told me that he once ate her Paso Finoís saddle. Not chewed on it, but ate it whole!

Swallowed it. Digested it. Sent it out the other end!

Pogo turned into a hero as well. One dark fall day, a unwell-meaning creature crept onto the farm. His intent was killing the chickens. Pogo had been sleeping in the pasture when a racket woke him up. The little bay woke up immediately and grabbed the long, metal stick (with his mouth) that enclosed his pasture and shoved the now unlocked fence wide open. Now that he was free, Pogo galloped over to the chicken enclosure and skidded to a stop at the fence.

The culprit looked up with guilty eyes. If you havenít guessed yet (of course you havenít, I didnít give enough clues) it was a raccoon. The bandit was clutching Annie, the last chicken alive. Without any time to spare, Pogo tossed his head and let the metal stick fly. It hit the raccoon in the face and the cat-like animal fell backwards, Annie fluttering away indignantly and clucking her thanks at her savior. Unfortunately, the other chickens didnít make it and Annie eventually went to the happy chicken coop in the big sky. But this is Pogoís story, so I will pass it on.

Pogo wasnít too fond of jumping. I started riding him when he was six years and before that he had been ridden western his entire life. When I rode him English for the first time his bridle snapped and he bolted. I fell off and Pogo was a little wary of the saddle for a good time afterwards until we finally had a saddle properly fitted for him.

Horse Story

The falls
Of course, I faced plenty of falls. My least favorite was one that hurt the least, but it was the most embarrassing. I was simply trotting Pogo around bareback and I fell off. Quite a fail, seeing as I can stick a bolting horse at a flat gallop bareback, jump bareback, and stay on when a horse bucks. But every fall strengthened our bond.

Pogo recently decided that maybe he could leap over a few poles, but mostly he preferred slowing down to a slow walk and walking over it, or pretending the jump wasnít there and going around it. I was still determined to turn Pogo into a jumper and when we went camping I had a brilliant aspiration. Maybe Pogo didnít respect the little poles!

I tried my special boy out over a few logs and he flew over them with style. I was overjoyed and Pogo seemed happy too, especially when he saw Etch jump. Etch was an older, bigger, flashier, smoother, and generally the preferred riding horse from the barn. But Etch wasnít the best jumper. He frog-leaped the little log and tossed his head, confused as to what he was doing.

We went back to poles and Pogo kept up the same tricks. The next time we went camping he wasnít exactly ecstatic about jumping. He trotted widely over the logs and tossed his head and evaded the bit. In frustration, I turned to taking Meganís mount, Jett, out for long gallops across the trails. But then Megan and Macey decided that they wanted to jump also. On one trail ride I pointed out a few logs along the side. One was kind of small, not much to look at. The second was way too pointy to safely jump, but there was a section we could cross to get to the third. The third log was perfect. It was much taller, about eighteen inches, and a little wide, but that was okay because Pogo was experienced enough to jump that and Jett and Etch were big. They could handle it.

Pogo trotted over the first log and was careful over the second, but I noticed he kept glancing at the older, bigger geldings. I wondered what was up and suddenly the little bay lunged for the jump and over jumped it by about a foot and a half. He landed on the other side and we cantered away. I patted him, then turned around and we tried it again.

So, my little guy was competitive!

Whats happening now
Pogo is doing so much better at jumping. We havenít had many lessons since then, but whenever I can I take him over a stray log or a bucket-jump. This teaches him to pick up his feet, but doesnít hurt in any way possible. Our bond has grown so much since then and whenever Iím in the pasture he now comes trotting up to me, treats or no treats. Pogo follows me around like a dog, and gives me horsey hugs all the time. Weíve been through so much together - new horses, horses retiring, falls, ghosts, pretty much everything you could imagine. I used to be socially awkward, a bit overweight, and I wasnít exactly the best rider. I could stay on. I could grab mane. Thatís it. Pogoís taught me confidence and Iíve made so many new friends from the barn. I'm now perfectly happy and a much better rider. Iím not afraid to try anything new. Pogo has definitely changed my life for the better!
Horse News More In This Category:  Horse Stories      Horse News More From This Author:  IggyPogo
Mutley Jackson  
Hey...Don't insult the doughnuts...

Doughnuts are more complicated than they let on -_-
  Mar 31, 2012  •  2,305 views
 
Double Spur Ranch  
Haha great article!!!
  Mar 31, 2012  •  2,310 views
 
Sapphire Flames  
awwww.glad everythings going so well for you guys! :D you look great together! :)
  Mar 31, 2012  •  2,295 views
 
Deleted Accounts  
aw, he's so cute and such an amazing story
  Apr 1, 2012  •  2,327 views
 
Madeirey  
Great story. :) Pogo's gorgeous!
  Apr 1, 2012  •  2,287 views
 
MySweetButterfly  
A donut is a quiet peacefull creature. Don't insult the donuts! xP Great article!
  Apr 2, 2012  •  2,295 views
 
Emmurr  
The line 'ever eating mouth' made me laugh! I know a horse like that, when we first got him home after buying him he stuffed his face with hay and almost choked himself! Silly horsey :P
This was a lovely story to read, it's great to see what you've done with him and it sounds like he's turning into a wonderful horse.
  Apr 2, 2012  •  2,307 views
 
IggyPogo  
Aha thanks guys! And what do you mean, insulting donuts? I'm comparing a horse to them! :D LOL Yuppers. I like chocolate glazed and jelly. You? :P
  Apr 4, 2012  •  2,292 views
 
Mystic56  
Wow sure complicated!
  Apr 19, 2012  •  2,343 views
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