INVISIBLE STRING: FOXY

 

me + Foxy

circa 1986

If you've been here for a minute you'll remember how I started the Invisible String series to share horses who have been special to me throughout my life. 

None are so special as the first. 

My first horse was a pony, named Foxy. 

My grandpa heard about her from a friend of his, Bob. She had been abandoned in a pasture by his house, and he had taken her to his place so that she wouldn't starve to death. He asked my grandpa to reimburse him for the money he'd spent in feed, plus gas for delivery if we wanted her.

My Papaw took me and my younger cousin Jimmy with him to go look at her. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Jimmy thought she was ugly. 

She was essentially a skeleton with long shaggy dull red hair with a flaxen mane and tail. Around her hooves the fur turned to a golden color. Her face was frosted with white hairs, and I was in love. 

Papaw tried to talk me out of getting her as he wasn't sure she'd survive with her condition, but I wouldn't budge. And so he gave Bob $50 and asked when he could bring her to our house. Bob said right now, and so they loaded her up and drove her home. I couldn't ride her until she gained weight, but I could brush her and learn to clean her hooves. I braided her mane and rebraided it. As she gained weight and the old dead hair began to shed I spent hours brushing her. 

Then the days came when I could ride her. At first my grandma would walk with me, but as I rode better and got more confident I was allowed to ride alone (it was the 80's). I had parameters for how far I could go, and during that time my grandparents knew every single person in that span. Everyone was watching me even though I didn't know it. 

As I got more confident and we would jump small logs, race around trails, and explore the woods I had quite a few tumbles. Once I decided to use a crop, and Foxy let me know in no uncertain terms how she felt about that. There were multiple times when I had to dust myself off and walk home. She taught me so much, and I will forever be grateful for that little red pony that came home with us when I was not quite five. 

Eventually I outgrew her and the time came for a horse. But Foxy stayed. I still groomed her and braided her mane. She was my best friend until I was 16 when she laid down and never got back up. I sat with her in that stall until she took her last breath. She's buried behind the barn at what is now my mom's house. I am sure that she greeted my Mamaw in 2005 when she died, and I'm sure that both of them as well as all the others I've lost along the way greeted my Papaw in 2021 when he died. 

I still miss that red pony, and I know that every pony deserves a little girl to love them the way I loved her. I wish that for every single horse out there. And I hope that every little horse crazy little girl has the good fortune to know a pony like Foxy.