Post by Claire on Aug 4, 2011 21:12:54 GMT 1
Well done to all who took part in the riding discliplines quiz - answers and winners posted on that thread. Here is a new quiz for you. It's a little different from the norm. Below is a pony story in which the names of a number of pony books appear. Can you spot all the books and name them and their authors? Usual one at a time rule applies.
Apologies for the gypsy-type who appears in the story - I couldn't resist! ;D
(Books already guessed are highlighted in blue)
TESSA AND SOME PONIES
My name is Tessa and this is my pony story. Once upon a time I had two ponies. Their names were Billy and Blaze. Blaze was a strawberry roan, my friends used to call him the pink pony! Billy was a little grey pony, very gentle and kind. I got both ponies very cheaply, they really were bargain horses! I bought them both together at the horse sale which is held four times a year in a nearby town. I loved both of them very much and we had lots of fun together.
But then my father lost his job we had to sell the ponies. It was very sad for me having no ponies, especially when I had to walk past the empty field where they used to live. My most treasured possessions were a locket which had a tiny photo of both ponies inside and a red rosette which Blaze and I had won at the Heronsbrook Gymkhana. Our clear round was totally against the odds - Blaze was not normally a good jumper at shows as he had a strange aversion to the white poles of the show jumps and it was actually the first rosette (and last!) we had won together. Luckily both ponies were found good homes. Blaze went to live with a nice little boy called Ben and Billy was bought for a nervous girl called Sally who had become afraid to ride when her previous horse (who really was a devil pony) had bucked her off. I knew that gentle Billy would help her regain her nerve.
After the ponies went I thought I wouldn't be able to ride again until I was grown up and maybe got a job with horses. I couldn't even ride at the stables at Hampton Hall nearby, as it was far too expensive - although I did manage to save up enough to go on a weekend pony trek in Scotland. it was fantastic being able to ride the ponies on the heather and on the last afternoon we rode to the sea and galloped along the beach!
After that great experience however, I spent a long lonely year without sight or sound of a pony.
But then our family's luck changed. My mother's great aunt Zara Hamilton died and Mum became heiress to a large sum of money and even better a large house with its own stables!
Now that we had money again and a stable and fields of our own I wanted to buy back Blaze and Billy so I could keep my horses at home with me. But I soon realized that my two old equine friends were now happy with their new owners.
"Please don't take Billy away from me," pleaded Sally, "He really is the best pony for me and the first pony I've ridden who makes me feel really safe!"
Ben also did not want to be parted from Blaze whom he said was his dream horse. He had even managed to cure Blaze's quirky habits and turn him into a really good little jumper and the two potential winners were looking forward to a happy show jumping summer ahead.
It was clear I couldn't break up these new partnerships. I knew I could buy a new horse but how could I find one to take the place of Billy or Blaze? Would I remain horse-less and alone?
The solution came out of the blue. I was on my bike, on the long ride home from the nearest town where I'd been shopping for pony books, when I passed a patch of wasteland where what can only be described as a pony in distress was tethered by a rusty chain. He was only a youngster and a lovely chestnut, gold almost, in colour, but his bones poked though his unkempt coat and his mane and tail were matted. Yes, it was one unhappy horse that stood there in front of me. What could I do? I couldn't let him suffer without doing something! An answer came more quickly than I expected, as a battered van drew up beside me and a swarthy gypsy looking man got out and approached the pony, which cowered as he got closer to it, obviously frightened. I plucked up my courage and spoke to the man: "Is your pony for sale?" He turned and looked at me and a greedy glint sparked in his piggy black eyes.
"Depends how much you got, " he said. "This is a prize pony, and my favourite colt. Maybe if you give me two thousand pounds I give you my colt..."
Two thousand pounds! Most people wouldn't have given pennies for a pony like this! But what was money in order to save a pony? I knew my parents would agree to the price - Tessa to the rescue again they would smile ruefully - so I nodded an OK to the man.
"Done!" he cried and I winced as he spat on his palm and grabbed my hand, shaking it vigorously.
Now my dear Fred, as I call the chestnut pony, is my constant companion and with good food, care and love he is a really beautiful boy. I still have fond memories of Billy and Blaze but now Fred shares a place in my heart with them, and I have a horse to love once more!
THE END
Apologies for the gypsy-type who appears in the story - I couldn't resist! ;D
(Books already guessed are highlighted in blue)
TESSA AND SOME PONIES
My name is Tessa and this is my pony story. Once upon a time I had two ponies. Their names were Billy and Blaze. Blaze was a strawberry roan, my friends used to call him the pink pony! Billy was a little grey pony, very gentle and kind. I got both ponies very cheaply, they really were bargain horses! I bought them both together at the horse sale which is held four times a year in a nearby town. I loved both of them very much and we had lots of fun together.
But then my father lost his job we had to sell the ponies. It was very sad for me having no ponies, especially when I had to walk past the empty field where they used to live. My most treasured possessions were a locket which had a tiny photo of both ponies inside and a red rosette which Blaze and I had won at the Heronsbrook Gymkhana. Our clear round was totally against the odds - Blaze was not normally a good jumper at shows as he had a strange aversion to the white poles of the show jumps and it was actually the first rosette (and last!) we had won together. Luckily both ponies were found good homes. Blaze went to live with a nice little boy called Ben and Billy was bought for a nervous girl called Sally who had become afraid to ride when her previous horse (who really was a devil pony) had bucked her off. I knew that gentle Billy would help her regain her nerve.
After the ponies went I thought I wouldn't be able to ride again until I was grown up and maybe got a job with horses. I couldn't even ride at the stables at Hampton Hall nearby, as it was far too expensive - although I did manage to save up enough to go on a weekend pony trek in Scotland. it was fantastic being able to ride the ponies on the heather and on the last afternoon we rode to the sea and galloped along the beach!
After that great experience however, I spent a long lonely year without sight or sound of a pony.
But then our family's luck changed. My mother's great aunt Zara Hamilton died and Mum became heiress to a large sum of money and even better a large house with its own stables!
Now that we had money again and a stable and fields of our own I wanted to buy back Blaze and Billy so I could keep my horses at home with me. But I soon realized that my two old equine friends were now happy with their new owners.
"Please don't take Billy away from me," pleaded Sally, "He really is the best pony for me and the first pony I've ridden who makes me feel really safe!"
Ben also did not want to be parted from Blaze whom he said was his dream horse. He had even managed to cure Blaze's quirky habits and turn him into a really good little jumper and the two potential winners were looking forward to a happy show jumping summer ahead.
It was clear I couldn't break up these new partnerships. I knew I could buy a new horse but how could I find one to take the place of Billy or Blaze? Would I remain horse-less and alone?
The solution came out of the blue. I was on my bike, on the long ride home from the nearest town where I'd been shopping for pony books, when I passed a patch of wasteland where what can only be described as a pony in distress was tethered by a rusty chain. He was only a youngster and a lovely chestnut, gold almost, in colour, but his bones poked though his unkempt coat and his mane and tail were matted. Yes, it was one unhappy horse that stood there in front of me. What could I do? I couldn't let him suffer without doing something! An answer came more quickly than I expected, as a battered van drew up beside me and a swarthy gypsy looking man got out and approached the pony, which cowered as he got closer to it, obviously frightened. I plucked up my courage and spoke to the man: "Is your pony for sale?" He turned and looked at me and a greedy glint sparked in his piggy black eyes.
"Depends how much you got, " he said. "This is a prize pony, and my favourite colt. Maybe if you give me two thousand pounds I give you my colt..."
Two thousand pounds! Most people wouldn't have given pennies for a pony like this! But what was money in order to save a pony? I knew my parents would agree to the price - Tessa to the rescue again they would smile ruefully - so I nodded an OK to the man.
"Done!" he cried and I winced as he spat on his palm and grabbed my hand, shaking it vigorously.
Now my dear Fred, as I call the chestnut pony, is my constant companion and with good food, care and love he is a really beautiful boy. I still have fond memories of Billy and Blaze but now Fred shares a place in my heart with them, and I have a horse to love once more!
THE END