"When I was about 5, my older sister and I decided that ponies were the center of the universe. We became ponies, jumping over stumps in the forest, whinnying and stamping all through the backyard, down the driveway and along the road. Later, we humbly bowed our heads to receive the invisible Olympic medals we awarded each other: gold for my sister, silver for me. At bedtime, we read about horses.
"We thought the best book ever written was 'Jill Enjoys Her Ponies'. All this happiness came to an abrupt halt when I was 7 and our parents bought us a living, breathing pony. Bobby was 4 years old, with a dirty white coat, the build of a soccer ball and the soul of Charles Manson."
~Author, Lisa Jones in "Broken" A Love Story"