When #IWASAKID I was pretty spoiled… I grew up with a grandmother who would get me anything I asked for, regardless of how outlandish it was. Being a kid, I took full advantage of Nana’s inability to say “no” and usually asked for pets. Through the years we had ducks, chickens, a pair of turkeys, many types of tropical birds, rabbits, dogs, and a pony - almost everything but cats because my grandfather was allergic... which is probably why I'm obsessed with them today!
I was the little girl who asked for a pony for her 9th birthday and actually got one, even though we lived in a residential neighborhood where we really shouldn’t have had one to begin with. The backyard was pretty large, about ¾ an acre with an oversized wooden playhouse which was used as his stall. We insulated it and it really was quite cozy.
in some kind of pink ballgown, it was the 90s. LOL
I named him Red Velvet because his baby coat was so thick and dense that he looked to be covered in crushed red velvet. Over time, his name was usually shortened to Velvet, unless he was being mischievous, which was often.
He came from a farm that was maybe 20 minutes from our house and my Nana, who bred tropical birds, had bartered a breeding pair of African Grays for him. He was delivered to our house on a crisp September morning in the back of a pickup truck inside a handmade wooden crate. He was about 30” tall, maybe 50 pounds and was very playful, almost like a puppy.
We were told he was a miniature Shetland and would stay very small – however, he turned out to be a full-blown Shetland pony and pretty aggressive. He wasn’t really trying to be mean, just rambunctious, and sometimes manipulative by misbehaving to make you cave to his demands of carrots or apples.
I had treated him like a baby when he was small. We’d take naps together in the sun, I’d braid his mane and tail and dress him up with pretty ribbons for walks out on the sidewalk, and he’d even come in the house for snacks and cuddles – but, once he got so big and stubborn those days were over.
One winter, I believe it was the winter of 1994, we had a record snow event - the snow at our place was over 18” deep, which is quite anomalous for Kentucky. My grandmother was outside shoveling a path to the playhouse to make sure his water wasn’t frozen, he had clean bedding, and he hadn’t spilled his grains. All the sudden, with no apparent warning, a large branch maybe 8” in diameter snapped from the yellow maple beside our patio where my grandmother was shoveling and hit her directly on the head. It was a total knockout. We all heard the branch snapping from inside the house and looked out to find my grandmother laying in the snow bleeding from her head.
I ran out there screaming in nothing but my pajamas and socks and as I got there she was starting to come to, but I was terrified about the amount of blood in the snow. Her reaction was, “get back in the house, you’re going to get sick”, so I knew she was okay. She recovered just fine but did have to get about 25 sutures in her head.
My aunt had a farm in an adjacent county, so the following spring we moved Velvet out there where he happily lived out the remainder of his life with several horses – one of which he impregnated. We never could figure exactly how that happened because of their size difference, but nature has her way and his little colt was red just like him.
The tree that branch fell from was healthy according to the arborists, it was just weighed down by all the snow and ice. However, it was pretty close to the house and my grandparents were afraid it would fall on the house if it were to happen again so they had it cut down. We had a family friend who was a hobbyist woodworker and he took most of the trunk to his shop. As a surprise he made four matching bowls from the trunk for us, and now one of them sits on my sideboard as a change bowl – my little piece of the tree that almost killed Nana.
We weren’t the only ones on our street to have farm animals as pets. My neighbor had a couple of pot belly pigs who wore clothes every day, and the kids across the street had a pet goat named Butt-head.
As an adult, I often find myself reflective of all the wonderful memories I have thanks to my grandmother. Her love for learning, animals, and her family has deeply impacted us all. I am lucky enough to still have her with me today, and now, I get the joy of watching her spoil my own daughter – and I fear that her inability to say “no” to her babies is even greater today than when #IWASAKID.
