Rodo was a shetland pony, long since retired and turned out to pasture. He was small enough to be a companion to foals, but of the temperament that he really didn't care about them. As ponies are wont to do, Rodo had foundered at some point in his storied career of child sherpa. For him, this meant a boring diet of little grass, little grain and mostly hay. He was relegated to the paddock that had the least amount of grass but near to the action so he wasn't bored.
Everybody had a turn at riding Rodo. He was notorious for bucking even accomplished riders off, no matter how big or small they were. Since my legs were long, I reasoned that I could wrap them around Rodo and he would not be able to unseat me, no matter how hard he tried. Anyone who has ever underestimated a pony is now laughing, I'm sure. I climbed (stepped over really) aboard and let Rodo do his thing. One buck into it he must have figured out that his normal strategy would not work. He stood quietly for a moment, then, fast as an alligator, spun and bit me on the knee. In my surprise I yelped, and loosened my legs. One more buck and a duck...and I hit the ground. Proving that it was all in fun, Rodo wandered back to me to snort at me as if to say 'told you so.'
Rodo lived a long and healthy life. Once in a while he would be paired up with a needy foal or yearling, but mostly he lived the well deserved retiree's life of hanging in the paddock, under a shade tree, playing with the goat or other riding horses, no doubt giving the riding horses all his secrets to unseating the unsuspecting.
