Jelly Bean the Welsh Pony
Posted by Dr. Deb on January 25, 2009 under Horse - Main, Horse - Stories, Welsh Pony | 
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Everyone remembers the first pony to capture their heart. For me, my first “love” was a Welsh pony named Jelly Bean. Jelly Bean lived at Pony Farm in Temple NH, where I was fortunate to begin taking riding lessons when I was 6-years-old.
I loved Jelly Bean. His study, stocky, little Welsh pony body, was the perfect size for me, a timid and quite 6-year-old. I loved to put my arms around his neck and bury my nose into his white coat. Grooming him was very soothing for me and apparently for him as well, as he would often start to nod off in the process.
Riding Jelly Bean was and adventure and challenge and he helped me to build confidence and assertiveness. Like any good Welsh pony he was determined. A wonderful trait, except when his focus was the closest tuft of grass that he could find. My little arms were no match for his strength. Holding firmly onto the reins, I was pulled down onto his neck, head first, when he decided to plant his nose into some juicy grass. Thank goodness for my saddle, or I would have had many tumbles right down Jelly Bean’s neck and onto the ground. The final solution was that on trail rides either the instructor would pony me, or tie baling twine from my saddle to Jelly Bean’s bit, to prevent the frequent nose dives.
My first horse show with Jelly Bean for some could have been seen as a disappointment, but it was a good experience for me. The classes included Sit-A-Buck and a basic equitation class. I didn’t even place, but I did receive a ribbon. It was purple, likely for good participation, but I didn’t care. I was proud of my ribbon and proud of Jelly Bean. He looked so festive with that purple ribbon pinned to his bridle.
Jelly Bean, the Welsh pony who taught me how to ride, will live in my heart forever. I am grateful for the love, patience, and yes, even focused stubbornness that he showed me. I grew in the process by spending time with him and I’ve come a long was from being a timid 6-year-old.
Deborah Barnett, Ph.D.
