Poem: You Made Me Your Mare

When I was a little girl, I always dreamed that I was a beautiful filly with a long, flowing mane. I'd prance and gallop around the playground nickering and tossing my hair in the wind. I'd pretend there was a stallion there to protect me, watching from out in the fields where no one else could see him, but I could catch his scent on the breeze.

Then you came into my life again, this time with more passion than the last. With gentle eyes and strong hands guiding, you touched my deepest secret wish and found a way to bring it to fulfilment. A transformation was to occur that I had no control over as you were master and magician with my heart and soul.

My training was efficient. You wasted no time with the extra things that others might have. All the while, you were gentle, making sure that I did not bolt from you, as you did not want to break the spirit of the filly you were creating. Before I knew it, my dream of adding a long tail to my hocks had come true, matching my mane so well. Now came the hard part, the breaking.

As all good horsemen know, the best way to control a young filly is with the proper bridle, and I had never known one. You were uncertain, but I was impatient and demanding; so it had to be used. I took it willingly in my teeth while you set the tension to keep it in place as a dropped bit would not do. Caressing and petting with your hands and your words, I settled into acceptance of the fact that I was almost transformed into your filly.

There was one thing left to finish this shift from human to mare, and that was to accept you as my master and rider. With that, you mounted me with great care, slowly and gently taking pride in the work that you had done with me. I settled down into your gentleness knowing that the ride you were about to take me on was going to get a little rough. And that's when I took over and asked for the reins that you forgot, as I needed them to guide me on our first long ride together.

You rode me. A gentle trot and then a robust gallop. I handled it fairly well for my first day out. But you knew that I wasn't up for a long trail ride in tack, so you slowed things down, removed my bridle, and then took me again for a free ride. And that's when you went from being my master-rider to my stallion. Your eyes possessed me, body and soul, while you took everything you could from me. I could smell you upon the breeze with my eyes closed. I still can.

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Tindala has been a pony since her days on the schoolyard. Now she gets to play with all the neat tack with her Trainer, Master Michael, whom she's known since high school. Tinny, to her friends, is a 5yo grey Andalusian mare working on advanced dressage and is a beginning cart mare. In addition, she has two alter-ego ponies -- Ferrari the Zebra and Selva the Welch Pony -- who share space in her body. The three of them take turns releasing appropriate tensions as life invades. They are all a part of the Los Angeles Pony and Critter Club.