The First Pony I Loved

When I was around 3 or 4 I met a pony at a place called Chaple Farm.

He was a grey, and his name was Salty. He was so cute and was probably a Welsh Mountain Pony. I used to ride him when I went there. But soon Sue, the lovely lady who was Salty's owner, got fired. So she went to live somewhere else. We kept in contact with her and I was soon doing riding lessons on Salty. I remember having a birthday party with Salty, which was really fun. He was, at the time, the pony of my dreams.

One day, we lost contact with Sue, and from that day onwards I never saw Salty again. One time I even thought I saw him, in an abandoned-looking paddock, and his coat was no longer that beautiful silky white but was now all dirty and in a big muddy mess. I just hoped that wasn't him.

I'm now 12 and the last time I saw him was when I was about 5. He was old then, so I think, but know as well, that he has probably passed away. I have always wanted to see Sue since, so if anyone who reads this knows her I would be so happy. Because Salty was the first pony that stuck right to my heart but has never left me.