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Orchestra · Dec 1, 2018 4:45 PM

Hello all! I won't be participating in Secret Santa so I decided to hold a little contest instead in the spirit of the holidays. Post your best horse (or other animal/pet) related Christmas story below and I'll choose the three stories I like the most. It can be real story that happened to you, a story you heard about, or a fictional one. Write a short story if you want! If you win, you're free to use the money on whatever you want - on yourself, your friend or your Secret Santa!

Prizes:
1st 500,000 hbs
2nd 375,000 hbs
3rd 250,000 hbs

Example prices in the IV store:
1 year Basic Member upgrade 30 IVs/375,000 hbs
1 GMT token 20 IVs/250,000 hbs
60 stall barn (base price) 20 IVs/250,000 hbs

Anyone can participate. One entry per person (if you have several accounts you may only participate with one). Deadline is Sunday December 9, 2018 at 12 PM game time.

MariaChapinFarm3 · Dec 1, 2018 4:48 PM

Does it have to be a real story, or could I make one up? :3 I don't have too many Christmas stories that have to do with animals :p

Orchestra · Dec 1, 2018 4:50 PM

@MariaChapinFarm3 Can be real or made up, write a fictional short story if you want!

Skylight · Dec 1, 2018 11:55 PM

The year it Snowed in Florida.

It was many years ago. Mom always turned on the sprinkler over night so we would have our very own icicles and grass skating rink. We would rush outside to play in the ice. After turning the sprinkler off first of course. :) We would pull the ice off the branches and take them with us to the school bus stop. I bet the mail man really loved us cuz we would put the icicles in the mail box and look when we got home to see if it was still there. Course it never was.

In the afternoon it was time to play with the horses. I would take whatever ice hadnt melted over to the horses and they loved to chomp on them just like a carrot. One day near Christmas time, my water bed decided to spring a leak. :( Bye bye water bed so I had to go outside to get a hose to drain the bed. Well it was snowing! While the water bed was draining. I hopped on one of the horses and rode around in the Florida Snow. Cuz we all know that in FL snow doesnt last that long. Sure enough it stopped snowing. Eh well at least I can say that I got to ride in the snow.

20418

FeldingFields · Dec 2, 2018 5:27 PM

ID:48504

Chewie's Christmas, or, Why My Dad Doesn't Get to Have His Own Pets

My parents didn't let me have a dog growing up. So my sister and I were hamster kids. I think between the two of us, we had five hamsters between the age of six and sixteen (my ages, not hers). All of them were characters with their own little quirks and personalities, but the family pretty much agrees that, hands down, the best one was my first male Teddy Bear hamster, Chewbecca (or Chewie, for short. He chewed through the box on the ride home from the store to the house. He almost got loose in my mom's car. Eleven-year-old me thought I was being extremely witty, naming him Chewbacca.)

Any way, Chewbacca was...special. He would hang his head out the side of the wheel as he ran, much like a dog hanging his head out the car window...but then his head would get hit by the spoke/crossbar every, single, time it cam around. He was famous for chewing, but hated fancy chews or sticks. He favored the metal bars of his cage. He would scurry around my desk and chew on my crayons while I was doing my homework. The patient little fluffball even ran through a maze three months as part of my sixth year science project.

But I digress. This is about Chewie and my Dad, and about why my Dad is not permitted to have pets without adult supervision. Because Chewie wound up being so friendly and personable, I frequently carried him around the house in my shirt pocket. I'd plop him on the den coffee table and let him run around while my dad and I watched telly together. Well, Christmas Day, after all the gifts are unwrapped, the turkey's in the oven, and we're all chilling in the den, watching the Christmas Day football game. I get Chewie, so he can join in the holiday festivities. I give him a piece of carrot from our veggies for dinner and he's having a grand old time.

Mum, my sister, and I leave to do something in the kitchen, leaving my dad with the hamster, his bag of chips, and his beer. While we're out, I hear my dad go his evil "yes I've corrupted you" cackle.

When I come back, my hamster is still chilling on the table with somewhat less energetic scurrying, and my dad has "his cat ate the canary grin."

The following represents his chain of thoughts while we were out of the room.

-Hamster looks bored. Pity he can't enjoy the game with me.
-These chips are tasty.
-Hm. These chips are basically just corn and salt. That's basically all he eats anyway.
-
- I wonder if he'd like a chip.
-Oh, neat, he munched that right down.
-This beer is tasty.
-Beer is just hops.
-Hops are just grains.
-Hamster eats grains.
-
-
-
-Hamster would like beer.
*Dad pours small drops of beer out on table.
*hamster slurps beer
*Dad cackles
*hamster moves lazily for entire rest of day

You'd think his is one off. This year, at Thanksgiving, my Dad asked me if my dog could have beer. May dad did not appreciate my offer to drink his beer for him if he couldn't finish.

Windigo · Dec 3, 2018 1:37 AM

ID 42168

When I was a kid, we used to go to the sale barn alot. Nearly every week we went to look at the horses going through to see if any might make good trail horses or playday horses, or maybe ones we could retrain, fix up, and find better homes for. There were six of us kids and we all rode, as well as my parents. We always had a bunch of horses. I grew up in the saddle. I was maybe four at the time of this story.
My mom's horse Buckwheat had packed all of us kiddos around while we grew up. But Buckwheat was an old feller now and he deserved to retire. So off to the sale barn we go, in search of my mother a new horse for Christmas. We always went early and looked in each holding pen and checked out every horse. If there was one that caught our eye, we tried them.
Horses of every shape and color were at this sale. Big heavy drafts, tons of quarter types, paints, gaited horses, truly just a bit of everything. My mother tried a few that caught her eye, but she kept coming back around to this cute little chubby Chestnut Appy mare that was just mad as ever about being there. She was a biter and only about 6 years old. She had figured out how to keep from being put to work easily enough, but it landed her at the sale barn. My mom had to try her out. Once you got around the mares trying to bite you, she actually handled very nicely.
While my mother was busy horse hunting my uncle, my dad and I wandered around looking at others. When we got to the pony pen I saw the most ugly little pony I've ever laid eyes on. He was a mud colored Shetland pony, or he was covered in so much mud it seemed so. He was in his 20s, Blonde little mane that stuck out in every direction, skinny as a rail with horribly overgrown hooves. He looked like he had just given up on life. I went into the pen and gave him some love, he surely needed it. I asked my dad if maybe we could bid on him. My dad explained that he didn't think the little feller was going to live much longer and there were younger, healthier ponies that we could bid on. I gave the old boy a kiss and a hug, and off we went.
When it was time to bid, because she bit her handler while she was in the sales ring, my mother was able to outbid the kill buyer and won the Chestnut Appy mare for $75. The pony brought $35, the kill buyer got him. I was sad of course, but what can a little kid do about it? I made it known that we should have bid on him, we could have saved him.
Two weeks later it was Christmas. We opened our presents and ate breakfast. Toys, clothes, it was nice. My older brother and dad went outside while my sisters and I watched TV. A little while later my mama told me to head to the barn to help daddy get feed ready. Out to the barn I head, and there standing right in front was the ugly pony! He was happily munching away at a bucket of feed content as could be. He wasn't mud colored at all but a pretty dark Chestnut under all that mud! My uncle had bought him from the kill buyer after we left because he knew the pony needed us. He had spent the last two weeks nursing the little fella, and oh the difference two weeks of good food and hay and love made! There was a sparkle in the ponys eye and a prance in his step. He was still skinny, but he had gained a little weight and had his feet freshly trimmed. He was clean, and happy. I named him Shorty, I rode him until I outgrew him and gave him to my cousin's. He lived with them until he passed away at the ripe old age of 37! He taught me so much, and he definitely taught me how to work with a stubborn horse.
My mother's mare Princess quickly worked out of her biting habit. She was my mom's favorite from then on out and lived with us until she passed away. That Christmas has always stuck in my mind as one of the best we ever had.

lostcause · Dec 3, 2018 7:44 PM

When I was in the seventh grade my math and science teacher asked if anyone wanted to participate in 4-H. She said that if we did we could borrow her horse to participate. So after class I went to see her and she gave me the requirements- must wear helmet, must have parental permission, etc. I asked my mom and that weekend we went to my teachers house to go meet my 4-H project. Cami was a 8 year old one eyed Halfinger pony.
After that quite a few school nights and weekends were spent hanging out with my teacher and her horse for the next two years. Because of this I formed a lasting friendship with my teacher and got to learn early that even the people that are in charge of us are people too.

CeffylDwr · Dec 3, 2018 7:58 PM

Back in high school years ago I boarded my then mare Jules out at a barn just outside city limits. Mostly filled with 4H kids and their horses but the occasional adults boarded out there too. One fall this black Tennessee Walker mare showed up in one if the outdoor paddocks. None of us kids, including the kids of the owner ever knew her name or the owners name and never saw anyone out to check on her, room her or ride her. So of course we all kind of adopted her, nicknamed her Mystery and would "sneak" in to groom her and pet her and just all around love on her. Fast forward from fall to Christmas day, a couple of us girls had planned a Christmas morning trail ride in the snow (Our barn was on a 100 acre piece of property) and of course we decide to stop by and check on our favorite mystery mare and lo and behold there in her paddock is a baby filly! She was the spitting image of her mum so we took to calling them Mystery and Surprise, we of course moved them into the barn instead of out in the paddock for the winter. No one at the barn had had any idea she was pregnant and later we found out Mystery had been an auction buy and the new owner hadn't even known she was expecting.

I guess you could say they were a Christmas miracle.

Come spring both Mystery and Surprise left as quietly as they had come.

FallenShadows714 · Dec 3, 2018 8:47 PM

So about 5 years ago (I think, between 4-6 years lol), my brother and sister were both away at college and I was living 3 hours away from home. My brother, sister, and I all said we weren’t sure if we were going to be able to make it home as there was supposed to be a severe snow storm coming through and we all had jobs that we had already committed to being there. Long story short, we all barely made it home on the 24th and stayed the night at our parents house so we could spend Christmas together. Now, we had raised goats for 15 years, and my dad was not expecting any babies to be born for another month. But lo and behold, he went out Christmas Day and one of the females had had not one, not two, but three little babies. They were all cuddled up together in the barn. They were all healthy, and darned if it wasn’t two little girls and a boy. My mom said it was a Christmas miracle, that all of her kids made it home for Christmas and that the momma goat had been able to get her little preemie babies all cleaned up and taken care of on her own in the freezing cold and 8 inches of snow.

HunterUnderSaddleGirl · Dec 4, 2018 5:47 PM

This is from a novel that I've been trying to write for a few years, but I can never get the words out... So maybe with this spin on it I might be able to actually get the words out.

15552

Prince John sat on Christmas eve night staring at the fire, his thoughts bouncing around in his head. He wasn't thinking about really anything in particular. Just staring at the fire. He was 18 this year. His culture considered him an adult for a few years now, but despite his accomplishments this was the first year that he really felt it. The last year on his birthday his Dad, King Halt had allowed Prince John to put his proud hunting mare out with his stallion. She was a gorgeous mare, and although Prince John was biased, he thought that she was the best in the kingdom. She was a proud Dark, Dark bay mare. She was out of a high spirited hunting mare that escaped from her owner to visit a dark black draft stallion down the river. When the owner had a surprise a few months later he was digusted and went to dispose of the foal. John had begged his Dad to save the mare. Which he had, but meaning it as a punishment he wouldn't allow John to find a surrogate mare. Instead John had to raise the foal himself. He learned how to train himself, and was amazed that the mare had ALL of the good qualities that a horse could have. She was big bodied, and strong. Could dance in place and show if needed. Has the long efficient, and fast stride of the hunting mare, but had the stamina of a proud pulling horse to keep it up. She also got his more chill demeanor. She was also a great hunting mount - able to leap any obstacle in their way, and the heart to always try. And now she was in foal to the best warhorse in the kingdom. Impressive, and strong, and able to fight in battle all day, and was unstoppable on a charge to war. But John hoped that the foal would keep some of its granddam's speed as well.

Then a knock brought John out of his reverie.

"Sire! Your mare is foaling! Come quick!"

"What - so soon?"

He quickly ran to his mare in the stables and sat down in the straw next to her. He had seen mares foaling before, but this was different. This was HIS mare.

Just after midnight, when it was officially Christmas a strange feeling seemed to permeate the air. Not scary, but still gave the creeps that something special was happening. And John imagined that he heard the snow come outside.

Then with a sudden speed that didn't math the slow progress of before, the foal came. He was very unusual in a number of ways. Instead of the dull coat that most foals came with, he already shown and sparkled. Like a sword John though, I'll call him Gladio. The other unusual thing was how the foal stood up almost immediately. Tall and proud. Now that John could see that the foal was not negatively affected by being born early, he collapsed with relief. He could not have hoped for a better Christmas present. After helping Gladio nurse pushed himself against the wall, and did a most unmajestic thing. He fell asleep in the stall.

RocknSStables · Dec 4, 2018 6:39 PM

A Christmas that lasted a year!

I was 13 at the time and living in a small town that not too many were familiar with, but those who lived there knew everyone and those who didn't quickly became friends. My families roots run deep in that little town and at the time, horses and anything involving them were a huge part of everyday life (you can think Chuck wagons and ropers wanna guess what state I'm in). Every Sunday my family and others like mine would meet at a common spot and we'd all go on trail rides. I'm talking tons of people, horses, wagons, music; it was great. One Sunday didn't turn out like all the others unfortunately. You see, my great grandpa usually led the line and decided where we were to turn since he started the tradition so many years ago. That day, he decided to take up the rear and let his horse poke around. Buddy was getting up in age, as was he, and he thought it would be better to let him rest. That was the last trail ride they went on together. A car unfamiliar with the roads (and our tradition) came around a sharp turn and hit my great grandpa and Buddy. The horse didn't make it, thankfully my grandpa did. He was devastated and as was I. Buddy, being the horse I learned to ride on as a little girl, was also the first horse my great grandpa had trained. I made a vow to myself to never get on another horse again. I was the only one aware of the vow, but it certainly meant something to me. After the accident, life went on, and the trail rides continued; for everyone but myself and my grandpa. After a few months, I realized that my grandpa was sad; he wasnt myself; he was loosing weight, sickly looking, and never smiled. I talked to my dad and told him what I had been seeing and quickly learned a new word, depression and all about what it meant.

I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but I knew I had to put my sadness and fears aside and help my grandpa. What can a 13 year old though? I can cut jokes and try to give him the opportunity to smile, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. So after speaking to my parents, they allowed me to work through summer for them and others to save up my money. When the time was right, my dad made a phone call to our farrier. We made a trip out to his place and standing there before me, was a 2 year old Bay who brought tears to my eyes. I quickly looked at my dad and told him that was the horse I wanted. That's the horse I'm going to train for my grandpa. I turned to Larry, the farrier, and I asked him "how much are you asking for this gelding?" Trying as hard as I could be to be an adult (even though my fingers were crossed behind my back that I had enough money). Larry looked at me and looked back at the horse, "I think I could take $600 for him." "SOLD!" I shouted with pure delight. It was surely meant to be, that's exactly how much money I had with me. As I load my grandpa's brand new horse in the trailer, my mom cried and my dad shook his head with an approving smile.

Side note: I spent the $600 I earned that summer. My dad spoke with our farrier after telling him how much I've made and reassured him he would pay whatever the remaining amount was. I cried when I found out several years later.

The months go by and the seasons change. I grow stronger, wiser, and find myself not near as sad. Budro, aka buddy 2.0, was helping. With the help of the local cowboys, my dad, and family friends; I was training in training and Budro was ready to meet his new owner!

Sunday rolls around and we load up for our trail ride, but guess who was the lead? Brudo and I, that's who. With my head held high, I look back to the rest of the people and smile. They know where we're headed, but I couldn't help wonder if they were nervous as I was. I turn around, bend down, pat Budro softly, and off we go.

With a few hiccups from Burdo, still being green, we make it to the drive way, and I make my way down. Halfway through, I realize I'm the only one making this small milestone. I take a deep breath, shaking, and off we go again. After what seems like hours, I make it to the front yard and position myself in direct view of my grandpa's hard wooden door, and I start calling his name.

This is it! The door is opening and here I am sitting on top of my grandpa's new horse, that he has zero idea about. He looks at me, he looks at the horse, and slowly walks out. Once he's close he enough, he brings me to tears. "Buddy? Bud." His voice whispered. (Mind you, his in his mid to late 70s, but still has his spunk.)

I started crying and hopped down, telling him all about my almost year long journey and how much it's helped me cope with the loss of Buddy and hoped that it too could help him.

Budro is happily grazing in his pasture getting apples as often as possible and enjoying his life as a pasture pet! My great grandfather is now in a better place running free with the wild horses.

I'm happy to say he was able to participate in many more trail rides being the lead beside me.
Even at such a young age, helping someone dear to me, unknowingly helped me through my hard time coping with the loss of a beloved family member and underline fear of trail rides.

RedDeeFarms · Dec 5, 2018 1:48 PM

Every year as a kid I always had the same dream on Christmas Eve. Not telling a lie here - every. single. year! My dream was that I was at my grandparent's house on Christmas morning and I unwrapped a rope. Once I unwrapped the rope and held it in my hands I realized that the rope led somewhere. I would follow the rope and noticed it leading to the barn. I would start to walk faster until I got to the end of the rope. That rope was actually a lead rope and that lead rope was attached to my Christmas gift. My very first horse ♥

Great dream right? I always thought it was funny that I would have the exact dream every single year (for YEARS). I was always hoping that they would come true.

One Christmas morning at my grandparents, I opened my gift. It was a lead rope. Without saying anything I immediately jumped up and ran to the barn. There was the stall... decorated in ribbons, garland, and lights. I slid open the stall door and started crying. There stood my Christmas horse. A beautiful chestnut AQHA mare with a big blaze and four stockings. She had a hunter green halter on and her muzzle was covered in alfalfa. With ears perked forward she walked over to me. All I could do was wrap my hands around her neck and sob with happiness. It was one of the best moments in my life.

Orchestra · Dec 7, 2018 11:52 AM

Thanks to everyone who's already entered - I'm looking forward to reading your stories on Sunday! And to everyone else, there's still a couple days left of the contest, enter while you can!

SeldomSeen · Dec 9, 2018 3:36 PM

ID: 26465

Snow Moths

It's been years since I've seen snow moths. They only come out during blizzards, their large white wings blending perfectly with the blowing snow. They swirl with every gust and eddy while performing their mating dance.

Dita would be lost in the snow but for her coat and boots. The white dog is bundled against the cold. She leaves too far north to have no undercoat. I laugh at her antics as she runs wild, snapping at falling flakes and moths alike. For a moment she is calm, staring at me, until a moth lands on her snout. Its crystalline wings look almost like a miniature paper snowflake. Beautiful and perfectly symmetrical. Dita barks and the moth flutters away. She comes to me, now too cold for snow.

Inside we have our fireplace going, it's too cold outside to worry about the gas bill. The children are snuggled warm in front of the fire with cocoa, making paper "moths" from coffee filters and tissue paper. The blizzard has inspired their creative side and snips of paper cover the floor. They twist up their creations in an approximation of flower buds, immitating the moths before they unfurl. The snow buds have been hanging from our eaves and trees for days. This is the first year the children have seen them open and fall marking this year as one of the most magical.

It is dark too soon for anyone's liking. Our youngest asks if Santa can get through blizzards, if dogs get gifts, if he too is watching the snow moths play. I reassure her and kiss her good night as quiet falls over the household.

Orchestra · Dec 9, 2018 5:27 PM

The contest is now over. I'm going to read everyone's stories and come back later to announce the winners.

Orchestra · Dec 9, 2018 6:48 PM

I have read all of your amazing stories and I wish I could make everyone winners because you all deserve it. I had to choose three of them though and while it was difficult, here they are:

1st
@RocknSStables Your story reminded me of my grandpa who I lost earlier this year. He lived to the old age of 102. He never talked much about the war, but knowing I like horses he used to tell me about the ones he rode in the war, as well as the horses his family had when he was a boy. I admire your 13-year-old self for working so hard to help yourself and your grandpa. I'm glad to hear you both got to continue enjoying trail rides!

2nd
@FeldingFields Having had three hamsters myself, I can somewhat relate to your story - at least, as far as knowing that while small, they all have their own peculiar personalities. Your father too sounds like an amusing man. I had a good laugh reading your story!

3rd
@CeffylDwr What a lovely story! I bet both the mommy and foal felt loved that Christmas. The barn I used to ride at when I was young one day got a new pony, a pretty welsh mountain. She instantly rivaled the shetland ponies in popularity, and then one day, out popped a little filly. Foals were rare in that barn, so she become even more popular than her mom. The barn was tight on money and the foal completely unexpected (the mare had been pregnant when they'd bought her), so the owners weren't too happy, but they did end up keeping her for a few years, and she became somewhat of a mascot.

Congratulations to the winners! I'll be contacting you all shortly.

CeffylDwr · Dec 9, 2018 6:51 PM

Thank you! Got to love those surprise babies :D

Congratulations to the other winners and wow there were some good stories in there.

Orchestra · Dec 9, 2018 6:52 PM

@Skylight @Windigo @lostcause @FallenShadows714 @HunterUnderSaddleGirl @RedDeeFarms @SeldomSeen
And, as a thank you to all of the other participants, you can be expecting a little something soon. Thank you all for your entries, I wish I could have made you all winners too!

SeldomSeen · Dec 9, 2018 7:11 PM

Thank you for the opportunity to write! And thank you to everyone who shared their stories. I'm desperate for stories.

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