Great adventures with a pony named Prince

Although I didn’t happen upon the notation in Mum’s diary, I know that Prince travelled in the back seat of Grandpa Pollock’s car (with the seat removed!) from Schomberg, north of Toronto, to our farm.

He was a coal black Shetland pony who became an important part of our existence for many years.

Jan. 2, 1947, my sister, Gail, aged two-and-a-half, had her first ride on Prince and wanted lots more. On the 10th, Grandpa brought a new bridle for Prince and on the 25th, he and Aunt Evelyn delivered a pony harness which he would have been busy making in his basement.

At the beginning of February, Daddy and I took Prince over to Cameron’s and up and down the road. Before long, Grandpa provided a homemade toboggan, and the diary notes that Cecil and the girls played outside with Prince all day.

In this snap (right), I am riding with the saddle that Grandpa made

In May, Prince rode in the car again with Grandpa and me down to Pine River where Grandpa had erected snow fence to make a little field beside their house where Uncle Henry later built his retirement home.

We were there to try out the cart that Grandpa had constructed, and Mum’s diary reminds us that “the children had a wonderful time.”



Carol (left), Susan and Sally Elliott (c. 1956) riding Prince in the little pasture at Pine River

As Prince grew, his body circumference increased and getting on his back became more difficult. I could usually meet the challenge, but my cousin, Keith Bestward, had problems. Although he was a year older than I, he was not much taller and his build was heavier. He would back up and take a run over and over until he managed to crawl on or someone came along to offer him a knee.

One day, I got on and obstinately refused to let Keith have a turn. When I finally gave in after several hours of riding, I realized that I had sat too long. My legs stayed spread out and I couldn’t walk!

As Prince grew older, he developed a mind of his own. He enjoyed teasing us and he would prance or even race around the small field between the house and the barn that was the pony pasture when we wanted to catch him. However, once caught and harnessed, he patiently carried us wherever we wished to go.

Once, he bit me. I don’t remember much about the event except that Daddy was very angry. I never saw his ire raised to such an extent before or after.

When we had a gang of men for corn harvest or a wood bee, a wager usually was made: Who could stay on Prince the longest? One of the men would fling his leg over Prince’s back, steady himself and urge the pony forward. Prince would go a few steps before he leaned slightly to one side and off would go his rider. I think Prince grinned!

I was always ready for adventure when Grandpa hitched Prince and Minnie (our big, white work horse), to the front bob of the sleigh, and came to pick me up at school.

He and Mum drove Prince and cart, both suitably decorated, in the Coronation Parade in Kincardine in 1953.

In 1955, we acquired Princess. Before long, Grandpa had provided a double harness and refurbished the cart and we had a team!

So many hours of entertainment were enjoyed by all ages!