Mocha’s great adventure begins.
Hi, my name is Mocha and this is my blog. I am a cute little chocolate chestnut pony with a long forelock and a troubled past and this is the story of my greatest adventure.
It all started a few days ago. It was business as usual on the farm in Kentucky where I lived. I was hanging out with my friend Ginger and keeping a close eye on the other two horses at my barn. You might know them, Taco and Oreo? I’ve heard Taco talking about his blog (he thinks he’s some sort of internet sensation or something). If you’ve read it, then I guess you’ll understand why my barnmates require supervision.
Anyway, back to the story. It was a normal day on the farm. Or so I thought.
My mom came in and put my halter on and took me into the wash stall to get groomed. I like getting groomed and she does this often, so I didn’t think anything of it. She brushed out my mane and tail and sprayed me all over with my glossy hair spray. Once I was looking like the dapper gentleman that I am again, she turned me back out and continued working inside the barn. My mom had been talking for weeks about some great big adventure I was going on, but I just thought she meant I was going out in the big field where Taco and Oreo went.
Boy was I wrong. The next morning is when everything changed.
Taco’s Mom arrived before the sun came up with a truck pulling a big metal box. I could hear another horse inside the box, but I ignored it because I was happily enjoying my morning feed. As I was finishing up mom came out with my halter. Ok… that was a little weird but maybe I’m just getting another groom? Or maybe I get to go eat grass? Ohhh no, boy was I wrong.
Instead of going into the groom stall or out for some grass, I was led right over to the box. I could see the other horse standing inside. I decided to snort at it, just to show it I was a big, strong, independent pony. My mom let me stand there and snort at it for a little, but then she said something to Taco’s mom, who went and stood behind me and put her arm up.
I do not like people behind me. You don’t know what they are doing back there! So I ran away from her… right into the box. Trapped.
My mom clipped me in and put a huge bag of hay in front of me which I thought was just wonderful. The doors were closed after I got some cuddles and pats—and cookies—and then all of a sudden the whole box started to move.
The next 12 hours were kind of a blur. I stood in the box. Every once in a while, the other horse in the box (who I found out was named Biggin, apparently he’s Taco’s little brother) would move or talk to me. A few times we stoppped moving and Taco’s mom would come in and give us water or some of my favorite soaked hay cubes. But mostly we just stood in the box. It was loud outside, so I’m kind of glad I couldn’t see out the windows.
Eventually we stopped and the doors were opened. Taco’s mom turned on the lights because by now it was dark outside and a human that I recognized stepped into the trailer. I had seen her before in Kentucky… but not for a long time. She gently nudged me backwards out of the box.
So there I was, standing outside in the dark, in a place that smelled different than I’d ever smelled. The new girl that I kind of recognized led me into the barn. There was a very suspicious-looking container by the door, so I led us around that, making sure to snort at it to let it know I was in charge. There were a few other horses in the barn, and I was put into a nice big stall with a big window and a bucket of water. The new girl hung a whole hay bag full of hay on the wall. I have had hay in a net, but not in a bag so that made me really nervous. Life has taught me to be a very cautious pony.
The girl pulled out a small object and all of a sudden, I could see and hear my mom! But I couldn’t smell her, which was weird to me. The new girl hung out in my stall for a while and then she left and the barn went dark.
I navigated the hay bag in the dark, snorting at it when it made moves to attack me, and rescued the hay from its insides. At some point in the night, a light flashed into my stall, which was quite startling, as I was still dealing with the hay bag that was up to no good. But it was just the new girl, so I said hello but kept snacking on the hay that I had pulled to safety.
So, here I am. In a place they called “Ocala,” where I have been told I’m going to learn to be a “real pony.” I’m not sure what that means but there have been rumors that a saddle and exercise are involved. I guess we will find out together as we go, won’t we?