We've had a few horses in our time, but none was as dear to my father as a little filly he named Fox because she was quick and clever. She came from a farm near us and was a sweet little thing who adored my father. She was more like a large dog than a horse, and often wandered around the yard free of both corral and tether. But she wasn't above making a fool of my father when the occasion called for it.
This particular day dawned bright and sunny. It was the end of August in 1992, making Fox a grand six months old. She'd always been a playful filly, which is why my father had chosen her when he could have had any foal from the herd. And she was especially playful on this specific afternoon. My sisters and I watched as she tried to engage my father in a game. He was gardening and kept telling her to stop stepping on his corn.
Even a filly as sweet as Fox eventually loses patience. As we three girls sat in the sand pile watching, Fox started to rip the corn out of the garden.
"Fox!" my father snapped. "Don't touch the corn."
The filly looked at him out of the corner of her eye and tugged another stalk out of the dirt, tossing it playfully across the garden.
At this point, my father was more than just a little annoyed. He stood and grabbed a lead rope. It was apparent to us girls that he was going to put her back in the corral. Fox was having none of it. She pranced away, keeping just out of reach. My father followed her relentlessly. My older sister started laughing at Fox's antics. My younger sister and I soon joined her, laughing until we rolled in the sand.
Almost an hour passed as my father tried to catch the headstrong filly. Eventually, he stopped and burst out laughing. The hilarity of the situation couldn't be denied. Fox, hearing his laughter and knowing all was forgiven, cantered up to him, sliding to a stop less than two feet in front of him. My father tossed up his hands in defeat.
As he did so, Fox reared, pawing at the air mere inches from my dad. Her hooves hit the ground and my father frowned. He raised his arms again and again she reared, whinnying as she did so. A few more repetitions and my father was laughing again.
"Vicky, go get the video camera," he called, throwing his arms up once more.
As the eldest, Vicky knew how to use the camera. She went running off and returned minutes later, video camera slung around her neck and our mother in tow. Fox was still rearing every time my father's arms went above his shoulders.
"Catch it on camera, and quickly," my mother laughed.
Vicky obeyed, readying the camera and holding it up. Once she had both Fox and my father in focus, she waved her arm in the air, letting Dad know that she was ready.
My father smiled and raised his arms. Fox just looked at him. Turning to the camera, my dad shrugged. He tried again. This time, Fox nipped at his sweater. He tossed his arms up a third time and Fox nickered in his face.
Our laughter rolled across the field and Vicky almost dropped the camera in her mirth. My father tried to entice Fox into rearing for another few minutes, then gave up. Vicky shut off the camera and handed it to Mom. As soon as she did so, Fox reared. Dad threw up his hands, she reared again.
We turned the camera back on, but Fox just wouldn't rear, not for the camera. As long as the thing was off, she reared each and every time. My father felt a little foolish, but we all had a great time that sunny afternoon.
To this day, we have the video of my father jumping up and down in front of Fox, trying to get her to rear. We play it for the entire family at gatherings, and when we want to remember our darling Fox, who died several years ago, we always get a chance to laugh.
Dartmoor, located not too far from the famous Stonehenge in England, is well known for its involvement in Sherlock Holmes' The Hounds of the Baskervilles. This quaint area of southwest England is also natural home of the Dartmoor Pony. The closeness of the sea meant that the ancestors of the Dartmoor Pony were often crossed with the mounts of sailors and soldiers arriving from the continent. The many breedings resulted in a pony with several unique qualities.
But none of these crossings gave us the Dartmoor Pony we know today. It wasn't until Shetland Ponies were introduced to the area that a tougher mining pony began to develop. Unfortunately, these crossbreedings nearly ended the Dartmoor Pony for good as the blood was diluted and too many of the ponies had the look and hardiness of the Shetland Pony. The natural elegance of the Dartmoor Pony had been all but lost. Thankfully, breeders saw what was happening and moved to intervene. They introduced Welsh and Fell Ponies, even a few polo ponies, into the area and allowed them to breed with the native Dartmoor. Arabians were also brought over, adding elegance back into the breed.
World War II (WWII) again brought the Dartmoor Pony to the brink of extinction. Their natural home in Dartmoor was turned into a training field for soldiers. This robbed the elegant pony of its natural breeding grounds. It was only through the dedication of many breeders in the area that this horse breed survived at all.
Today, this horse is considered a top English show mount. You are most likely to see this rare breed in both jumping and flatwork. The Dartmoor is calm, friendly, pleasant, and brave. Their bravery makes them good jumpers as the are willing to try anything. The smooth action of this pony makes it a comfortable mount for children and adults alike. They are also the perfect driving pony.
The Dartmoor is a true pony, standing between 11 and 12.2 hands high. This breed can be found in all colors except pinto and tends to have a darker mane and tail. The breed is sturdy, but the elegance of the pony cannot be denied. The Dartmoor Pony possesses a lovely long action and is a joy to watch.
Currently, The Dartmoor Pony Registry of America maintains the official studbook for all Dartmoor Ponies in the United States.
There are many warmblood horse breeds, but the Danish Warmblood is the newest of them all, dating back to 1962. At this time, there were actually two Danish saddle horse associations in Denmark. But in 1978, the Danish Lighthorse Association and the Danish Sport Horse Society were merged to form the Dansk Varmblod (Danish Warmblood Society). With the founding of the Dansk Varmblod, the best horsemen in Denmark came together. These horsemen wanted to create the perfect sport horse, and this could only be done by selective breeding.
Breeding horses were carefully chosen from across Europe. Stallions of a variety of breeds were chosen, including warmbloods and Thoroughbreds. These stallions were put to mares of strictly Danish descent. Eventually, the Danish Warmblood emerged. And while the studbook is still technically open, the Danish are quite choosy when it comes to adding new stallions. Not only must they conform to a given standard (set out in the studbook), but they must have a strong competitive aptitude and be easily ridden. This is not always easy to find, so the addition of stallions to the studbook is rare.
The goal of the Danish Warmblood Society used to be breeding an all-around sport horse. This changed in 2004. Today, the goal of the Society is to create top show jumpers and dressage horses. The Society has been successful on that front and now Danish Warmbloods are found in show jumping and dressage around the world.
Standing from 15.3 to 17 hands high, this is an elegant breed. The Danish Warmblood is a riding horse that is similar to the Thoroughbred, but with a more substantial build. Acceptable colors include almost any solid color, including black, bay, brown, chestnut, and dark brown. True Danish Warmbloods are branded on the flank with a small wave topped by a crown (as can be faintly seen in the photo). Horses without this brand are not recognized by the Dansk Varmblod.
A tall and elegant breed, the Danish Warmblood is coveted by anyone wanted a horse with a touch of royalty about them.
The ultimate English farm pony is the Dales Pony. This little horses comes from the dales of northeast England and was used to herd sheep, plow fields, and pulling carts of many sizes. They were also used in mines back in the days when horses were actually used in mines. The Dales Pony was a pack pony in the lead mines and also carried ore to the cargo ships all around England. English farmers, in an attempt to better the breed, crossed Welsh Cobs and Clydesdales with the Dales Pony, but the Clydesdale blood was considered undesirable and was eventually bred out.
The Dales Pony defies expectations when it comes to the loads it can carry. A single horse can carry 220 pounds despite its small size. It can also trot a three-minute mile and is surefooted enough to make an excellent trail pony. This horse breed is also friendly and reliable, making it a great horse for children.
The Dales Pony is what most people think of when they hear the term pony, even if they don't realize it. This pony had thick legs and hard, dark-colored hooves. The legs are feathered and the hindquarters are strong. This horse may be short but its well muscled, especially the neck. The head of the Dales Pony is fine featured with tiny ears and wide-set eyes. Standing between 14 and 14.2 hands high, this pony is generally black. Brown and grey are seen on occasion, but neither color is considered desirable.
The perfect pony, the Dales Pony is now represented throughout most of the world. Enthusiasts from The Dales Pony Society and The Dales Pony Society of America maintain the stud books for most of the horses born throughout the world.
