I'd spent on full week as this Exmoor pony stallion. The days are long and filled with play. My Mentor has told me that work is to be done and that a pony must work for his keep.
Early on the eighth day of my glorious exsistance I was walked to the Carousel. Oh a beautiful merry-go-round where children of all ages can ride the furry backs of friendly ponies like me.
A halter, bit, and saddle are strapped to my body as my day begins walking in a never ending circle. To enjoy one's work is wonderful but in being one of six ponies in the carousel the view is less than pretty.
Ten long hot hours of sun beating down on this brown hair and very black hide. I am tired as my mentor invites me to come and play with the other ponies. This weak human is still no pony in spirit. The desire to rest and sleep in the barn will become one of daily pony drudgery.