~ Welcome to Petwarmers ~ NIPPER It was Christmas, 1973. I was only 4 years old with a brother, 8, and a sister, 10. We were living in a new house that our parents had built on a 10 acre piece of property. We woke up Christmas morning to the usual stockings overflowing and presents under the tree. But when we were finally able to get mom and dad out of their morning slumber, we were instantly directed to go out to the barn. Being as excited as three kids could be -- knowing that it had to be some sort of animal that was hiding out in the barn -- we ran out there, not even stopping to put our coats and shoes on. Out to the barn we ran, swinging the door open. To our surprise, there was not one, but two, Shetland ponies standing there! As beautiful as the new snow, they were both dabble grey with tails to the ground, and manes not much shorter. Goldie was the mother, and we called her two year old baby "Nipper" -- and you can guess why. Later that spring, Goldie had a little boy, Dusty. Goldie and Nipper were the best of Shetland ponies, as Shetland's are often not the nicest little horses. They took the three of us kids through the Pony Club, parades, and even school show-and-tell days. And despite our extreme resistance, they were sold so that we could get larger ponies, and soon horses. Both Goldie and Nipper never went far, and they remained in the area and probably took another 8-10 kids each through Pony Club. After I had my first daughter, I was talking to my mom and happened to ask if she knew who owned Nipper. I was planning early to make sure we could get him back so my daughter could start riding. We located him and, after six years of waiting, we heard that his owners were ready to sell him. I was out to pick him up that very weekend. When I arrived at the ranch I discovered that he was not the sleek coated, bright eyed little pony I remembered. Rather, he was a very thin, shaggy, hooves curled, sad little Nipper. The story I got was that he had been turned out on the hillside for the past two years and nothing had been done with him. I didn't care. He was mine now, and I was going to bring him back to health. Shots, wormings, teeth floated, feet trimmed, special feed, you name it he got it. My daughter, Lindsay, and our twins, Casey and Carrie, enjoyed Nipper and he enjoyed them -- they would catch him, saddle him, and dress up his every inch with brushes, combs and bows. They would stack up buckets and crates, or make him stand in a hole, so they could get on. Then they were off, but never too fast. Nipper always knew just how fast to go. But Nipper's joy was short lived. Despite the extreme care we gave him, it couldn't make up for the two years of neglect. Upon the coming of winter, Nipper fell victim to pneumonia. We got the news when the vet arrived. He was a long time friend of the family, and who had ridden beside me on his pony Red, so many years ago. We fought hard to save him. However, on a dreadfully sad December day, I made the call. The call that would bring to an end years of memories of a little pony that would go everywhere, and do anything a child's mind could think of. He came home to us -- home to the people who loved him the most. I am not sad that my children only got to spend four months with Nipper, but blessed that he lived long enough to come back to me. Nipper will always be remembered by this family. He lies up on the grassy knoll, where he used to play with his mother, Goldie, and brother Dusty. -- Deborah J Scott <bdscottfarms @ juno.com> [email protected]