[title subtitle=”words: Stoney Stamper
Images: courtesy April Stamper”][/title]
My family seems to have a never-ending fascination with animals. We’ve had pretty much every breed of every species you can think of, and I really don’t see any end in sight. Animals come, and occasionally go, on a fairly regular basis. It’s something I’ve had to get used to, because my girls don’t take the word “no” very well. Not when it comes to animals. Luckily, we live on a nice seven-acre piece of ground. It’s big enough to be a pain to mow and keep the fences mended, but it’s small enough so I can tell them we can’t buy every cotton pickin’ animal they want.
So last month, my lovely wife made a horse trade. She does this occasionally, and it’s an adorable trait. She wheels and deals, and even sometimes makes a good deal. This was one of those times. She traded a miniature horse that we had named Sparky for two smaller miniature horses. You see, April is a photographer, and a good one, if I do say so myself. She does a lot of mini-sessions with children. And one of her most popular mini-sessions is with a real, live unicorn. Yep, you read that right, she gives little girls a chance to dress up as their favorite storybook princess and take a picture with a living, breathing unicorn. OK, it’s not really a unicorn. It’s a miniature horse with a glittered cone strapped to his head, gold spray paint on his feet, and colorful hair extensions. But to these little girls, he is a magical creature.
Well, if you’re going to take these pictures, you need your own unicorn. So she bought Sparky. He was a good horse, but not exactly the unicorn that she was wanting. So she made a trade for these two others. They were a little smaller and just what she was looking for. One of them was a red dun. He is a little older and still a stallion. He will undoubtedly make a perfect unicorn, someday. We decided to name him Dink.
The other one was only four months old and we’d yet to name him. He was weaned right before we got him, and he was really missing his mama. A lot. It was sad to hear him cry and neigh for his mother. My eleven-year-old daughter Emma was in the stall with him nearly all day the first few days we had him, playing with him and petting on him. She did her best to make him feel at home on our little farm. One of these times, she made a mistake. A horrible mistake. She didn’t shut the gate behind her. Being that he was still pretty nervous and anxious in his new home, when he saw an open gate, he made a break for it.
Interesting fact #1: A scared baby pony can run as fast as a cheetah chasing a gazelle. I’m not even kidding. He was like a little pint-sized rocket shooting across our field.
Interesting fact #2: I am not as fast as a cheetah chasing a gazelle. It was like a race between Dale Earnhardt, Jr. in his NASCAR and me trying to keep up on a tricycle.
It wasn’t even close. I was 100 yards behind him within a matter of two seconds, and he wasn’t slowing down. I was, however. I was wheezing like John Goodman running a triathlon. I couldn’t have been more sweaty. And the little guy was gaining ground with every freaking stride. I hollered back at April, “Go get my rope!” So she headed back to the barn to get it, while I continued to chase the tiny runaway.
Although I was clearly slowing down, the pony wasn’t. In fact, he caught another gear like he’d been hit in the hind-end with a hotshot. Little dude was gone like the Road Runner.
Interesting fact #3: Fences mean absolutely nothing to a horse the size of a small dog. They can go through a fence, or under it, without even the slightest hesitation. He never broke stride.
Meanwhile, the neighbors had a new dog that did not approve of my presence on their property. He was all over me, but I was too tired to even care. If he was going to bite me, he was just going to bite me. My legs were mostly numb anyhow, so it shouldn’t even hurt.
Thankfully, once the dog realized that I appeared to be suffering from emphysema or some other lung malfunction and was no danger to anyone, he went home. I went on back to another house behind the neighbors’, and there stood the little pony. Smug, seemingly smiling at me, as he ate grass by their propane tank. But more important, he was standing still. I eased up on him like a mongoose on a cobra, walking ever so gently, although I’m sure my incessant wheezing wasn’t helping my sneakiness. I got within ten feet of him and saw April coming up behind me. She couldn’t find my rope. Well, that was just dandy.
I was quietly talking to the colt, and he was just staring at me. I inched closer. He made a run for it. I hurled my body at him and somehow caught him by the front leg. You may think to yourself, Oh good! He caught him. It’s over. No way
Interesting fact #4: A tiny pony may be small in stature, but they are still as strong as Andre the Giant.
He hit me full force. Our heads butted. I bit my lip. He hit me in a very tender “man” part with his front foot. I moaned. He jerked back. I fell forward. I grabbed another leg, and finally wrestled him to the ground. Again, I started wheezing and sweating. I actually feared for a moment that I was suffering from a massive myocardial infarction. I held on with all the strength that I had left, and finally he stopped fighting. I had won. Either that or he had died under my weight.
But no. He whinnied. He struggled a bit more, but apparently realized that I would sooner die than let go of him.
It was a mighty long walk back to our barn. As we approached the house, Emma was sitting on the porch swing. She said “Sorry, Stoney.” I’m not sure that I replied, but it was less out of aggravation and more out of my continued heavy breathing and possible cardiac issues.
April walked up to us and said, “That little guy sure flew the coop, didn’t he?” We chuckled and looked at each other and knew that we had just found our newest family member’s name. His name is Coop.
Stoney Stamper is the author of the popular parenting blog, The Daddy Diaries. He and his wife April have three daughters: Abby, Emma and Gracee. Originally from northeast Oklahoma, the Stampers now live in Tyler, Texas. For your daily dose of The Daddy Diaries, visit Stoney on Facebook or on his website, thedaddydiaries.net.
