By: Erin Neese

I’ve loved horses ever since I can remember. My 9-year-old sister, Abby, and I liked to pretend that our bikes were horses, which we rode everywhere. I read horse books, watched horse videos, participated in horse 4-H and even got to take care of a pony for a time. The only problem I had was that we didn’t have enough property for a horse, and boarding was out of the question because it was too expensive.

By: Walker Meade

I got my first horse when I was seven years old. She was a small Morgan mare my father, a country doctor, gave me for my birthday. We lived then on a farm, about five miles out of town, where we raised Hereford cattle, English Setters, and a few horses.

I was wary of the horses. I would much rather run with our five dogs than hang around the horse barn. I understood dogs and besides they were smaller than me. Horses seemed very big and hard to handle. I’d seen Jack, my father’s stallion, show his displeasure by bucking my father free of his stirrups more than once. Still, having your own horse was a big thing for a boy in our town, so I thought I’d better find a way to get over my attitude.

By: Megan Welch

I think that nearly every child goes through a stage of wanting a pony; some never grow out of it. I was one of those who never outgrew it. Since I was little, I loved horses and wanted one of my own. My best friend who rode encouraged that love. At last, at age 9, my parents let me take riding lessons. I was immediately hooked. Around Christmas 1998, my parents were debating over buying me an adorable little Paint pony named Bert. I, of course, was all for it, praying night and day for him. At last, on December 29, 1998, we bought him. Bert was any horse-crazy girl’s dream. He was small, about 13 hands, and had a sorrel coat with white patches on his neck and belly. A white blaze ran down the center of his face and his mane, tail, and forelock were tan. He had the cutest brown eyes I had ever seen. I was crazy about him.

By: Rachel Cobb

I was seven years old. It was my first year at camp, and I was so excited. I’ve always loved horses, but up until this week I hadn’t actually ridden one. When I got to the place where I would ride, they said to ride Mariah. So I went up to her and started petting her, but when they said to get on, I froze. I was too scared to get up. When Dorian, one of the counselors, came over, I was almost in tears because I couldn’t get up. He talked to me about it, and when I was still too scared he lifted me up onto the horse, and walked with me until I wasn’t scared anymore.

It was a beautiful day, and perfect for a ride on my big horse, ‘Beau Lyncho’. He was huge, with great personality, and we both just needed to get away for awhile. It was about 6 PM and we didn’t have too much time, so we had to make the best of it, so we would walk down into the creek, to just enjoy the water.

We had walked about 1/2 mile in the stream, and it was time to get out of the water. There appeared to be only one place to climb up onto the bank. It looked like we could climb up that bank easily, because there was not too steep, so we started to climb.

By: Sharon Gibson

Southern California horses seldom have to deal with bad weather. They rarely, if ever, see snow. Elad lives in Los Angeles so that makes him a “city” horse. City horses face different and sometimes interesting challenges.

Elad spent his early years as a racehorse. Part of his training covered clipping, trailering and being on his best behavior for vets and farriers. He also learned to break from the gate and to run as fast as he could on good footing. I don’t think he ever heard the words “lateral movement” in his racing days and I’m sure backing up on command never crossed his mind.

By: Mary Smith-Dinsmore

The day was sunny with a breeze that blasted even more heat. Though I knew the ocean was just over the mountain, I would have to sustain the heat and keep on working. I looked down and noticed my bare legs against the white shorts that I wore. I was achieving a significant tan after only two days! I worked as the groomer at a horse ranch where there were practically no roofs due to the pleasant climate.

By: Tracy A. Tucker

Campfires are truly amazing things. Not only are they beautiful to watch but build one and just wait to see whom it lures to its warm glow. Family, friends, even complete strangers find themselves drawn to the snap and smoke of a good fire. Even after all have gone to bed a few coals still burn, a ring of smoke still stretches to the sky hoping someone will pass by and stop to say hello.

By: Courtney Tripp

“Mother, what have you done?” I demanded as I gazed at his bold figure.

He was nothing like what I wanted. He was too big and too dark. His legs were too thick, and he had huge ears and feet. I slowly shuffled in to say hi. He surveyed me intently, and when I held out my palm, he kissed it.

I played with him. We nudged, cuddled and chased each other. His curious, expressive brown eyes focused on me.

“He loves you already,” Mom suggested. “He hasn’t reacted like that to any of the other people he has met.”

By: Nancy Swart Michel

One late afternoon in 1977, a few weeks after I entered my freshman year of high school, I glanced outside the livingroom window on my way to the kitchen. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. My Appaloosa mare, Nee Noo, stood in the corral twisting her neck around to bite at her side.

After making a few swipes, her head sank halfway to the ground. I knew something was terribly wrong.