Pete the Pony

``Pete The Pony

Pete the pony was tired. More tired than he had ever been in his life.
The reason he was tired was because everyone loved him. Well, nearly
everyone. The only person who didn't was Mr Jones, his owner.
Mr Jones owned the riding school, and all the ponies in it. He'd had
Pete for 14 of his 17 years. As far as he was concerned, Pete was
another worker. If he couldn't earn his keep, he would have to
go.
All the children loved him because throughout his 17 years, he'd never
had a mean thought or performed a mean act. He had never kicked out, or
bitten anybody. Even the first time someone got on his back, he hadn't
bucked once. His sweet nature was why everyone wanted to ride him. The
more times he was ridden, the more money he earned for Mr Jones. Most
ponies got at least one day off a week, but not Pete.
All week long, he plodded around with children under school age, and
all weekend, it was older children, who loved to show off how well they
galloped, and jumped fences. Yesterday had been particularly hard. It
was August, and very hot. The riding school had held a Gymkhana, and so
many children had wanted to ride him, he hadn't had a break at
all.
He'd won the lead rein class and the junior jumping class in the
morning, and the afternoon had been one long session of gymkhana games.
He'd galloped around the bending poles, galloped in the relay race, and
he'd even won the fancy dress race, where children galloped from post
to post, jumping off their ponies to put on some strange clothes,
jumping back on again until they reached the next post, and so on,
until someone passed the winning post, wearing all the clothes that had
been laid out. Poor Pete had found this particularly hard, as the boy
that was riding him was quite heavy, and kept landing on his back with
an awful thump.
He'd been tacked up at eight o'clock in the morning, and hadn't
finished until all the rosettes had been presented at 7 o'clock at
night. His bridle was a wonderful sight, with all the red ribbons, but
he was so tired.
The next day, Tom, the blacksmith, called. He'd been worried about
Pete for ages, because he always needed new shoes. He had them replaced
twice as often as any other pony, and Tom knew the reason for this
could only be because he worked too hard.
That day, he was given a real reason to worry. When he arrived, he
didn't see Pete's head appear over his stable door. Usually, he was the
first to greet him with a friendly whinny, hoping for his usual treat
of peppermints.
Without waiting for Mr Jones, he hurried to Pete's stable and looked
in. He was greeted by a sad sight. Pete was lying in a corner, his head
was up, but he looked very dejected. His food and water from yesterday
was untouched.
Tom unbolted the door and hurried across to Pete, who, on seeing him,
tried to get up, but he couldn't manage it.
"Lay there, old fellow," murmured Tom, "I'll see what I can do." He
carried the water to Pete, who sank his muzzle into it, and took a
drink. "Now, you rest awhile," said Tom, "you'll feel better
soon."
Just then, Mr Jones arrived, carrying Pete's tack.
"Haven't you finished yet?" he shouted at Tom. "I need him for a lesson
in ten minutes."
"Well," replied Tom, "you'll have to use another pony, this one needs a
long rest, he's been worked too hard for too long, and yesterday was
the final straw."
"Rubbish" retorted Mr Jones, angrily, "he's just lazy." With that, he
gave Pete a sharp slap on the rump. "Get up, you good for nothing," he
shouted, but although Pete tried, he just couldn't make it. "Well,"
said Mr Jones, "if that's the way it is, it's the glue factory for you,
my boy. I'll have no shirkers here." With that, he turned on his heel
and stormed from the stable, slamming the door behind him.
As he strode across the yard, he became aware of the silence. He
stopped in his tracks, and looked around. He hadn't realised how many
children had arrived for their lessons, and judging by the horrified
looks on their faces, they'd heard every word. Completely out of
patience with everybody, he strode back across the yard and disappeared
into the tack room.
Tom came out of Pete's stable to be confronted by a group of crying
children. "Is it true,? Will Pete have to go to the glue factory?"
wailed one girl.
"Not if I can help it," said Tom, and he sat on a bale of hay, and
began to explain things. "I know you all love Pete, and want to ride
him, because he's so good, gentle and loveable," he started, "but what
you don't understand, is that sometimes he needs a rest." Before he
could go on, one of the children broke in, saying, "but I only ride him
once a week, so it can't be my fault." Several of the other children
joined in, saying the same thing. Surely it wasn't their fault that
Pete was so tired.
"No," explained Tom, "it's not your fault, not really. It's Mr Jones'
fault. He's too greedy. If Pete was the same as other ponies, he'd get
his days off, but because he's so gentle and obedient, you all want to
ride him, so he never gets a break."
Tom paused for a minute, giving the children time to think about what
he'd said. As they talked between themselves, he wandered across to
look at Pete. He wasn't on his feet yet, but he was looking happier.
One by one, the children wandered over to see him. Laura, the eldest
girl, spoke at last. "We're so sorry, Pete," she said tearfully, "we
didn't understand. We'll save you if we can."
With that, the children stormed over to the tack room, to confront Mr
Jones. Tom followed, to see what would happen.
"We want to talk to you, Mr Jones," said Laura, "and we're all agreed.
If Pete goes to the glue factory, we'll go to another riding school. If
you promise to give him a long rest, we'll stay, and ride the other
ponies." There was a long silence after this. Tom felt proud of the
children, for understanding poor Pete's plight, but he didn't know how
Mr Jones would respond. He didn't think he was deliberately cruel, just
very greedy.
At last, Mr Jones broke the silence. "Alright," he shouted, "you win.
He can have a holiday, and then we'll see." The children cheered, and
looked round, just in time to see Pete's head appear over his stable
door. They cheered again. They were sure he'd understood. He was
feeling better already!

Ends