I could give you a poem, a novel, heck even a biography on my pony. He isn't an amazing show winner, he doesn't have great bloodlines. Heck, I don't even know what kind of horse he is. He isn't a smooth ride, he's not very well-trained, he over jumps, takes off, spooks, and loves to throw an attitude. He's pretty and he knows it. He is like a teenager when he doesn't get his way. He must think his name is "Whoa, Dammit!", I see myself saying that to him often.
You may ask "Why do you like him? He sounds rotten." He is, he's a spoiled brat.
We couldn't be more alike.
. A true best friend, Phillip is. On a good day, I could hug him and kiss him, and ride forever. On a bad day, I could beat him senseless. When we're together, I can be myself, I can be free. We click. He amazes me. We truly are a team.
Now - he acts like a big 17 hand Warmblood, when all he is - is a 13.2 palomino. He has an amazing color, with a gorgeous blaze, and a left rear stocking. He loves to chase the goats, and kick the dogs. He's a joker.
I love my pony,with all my heart, and I will keep him forever.
And just to show my baby boy off, here he is himself, the one, the only, Prince Phillip.