Are you an adult recovering from a deprived, pony-mad but ponyless childhood?
Did you always enter Win a Pony competitions and somehow never win even though you spent weeks swotting for the quiz answers? Does it still rankle?
Did you gallop around the garden jumping over fences made from bamboo canes and flowerpots? Or eat raw oats to see what they tasted like? Was your school nickname “Horsey”?
Did you pride yourself on the verisimilitude of your whinny? Have you still not recovered from reading that scene in Black Beauty where Ginger [SPOILER] ends up on the knacker’s cart? Did you cycle for miles in the rain to hang over the ropes at a horse show?
Did you ever attempt to blackmail your parents into buying you a pony, because you knew that ponies only cost £10 and you could easily keep one in the garage if your dad only got rid of that stupid car?
If you answered yes to any or all of these questions I think it would be therapeutically advantageous for you to take part in the If Wishes Were Horses Christmas Confessions Competition. I’m looking for a story or an image that sums up the goofy glory of being pony-mad but ponyless: the passion; the dedication; the compulsive collecting of model horses; the extremely detailed descriptions of imaginary Arabian steeds; the time you stole and sold your mum’s jewellery for your pony fund; the time your favourite riding school mount kicked your teeth out and you didn’t mind… I even want to hear from you if you eventually did get that magic pony. You jammy swine. Ahem. No, I’m FINE now, not jealous at all. Really. In that case, tell me about that pony and what he taught you by dragging you through hedges and standing on your toe while being adorable.
So send your stories (250 words or there about) or photos to the email link at top right of the blog by December 15th and then we’ll have a vote. The top five get a copy of If Wishes Were Horses and everlasting glory. But sadly not a pony, because I’m still saving for one of those.
PS. examples listed above are all tragically true…