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Revisiting "Dixie Chick" at Equifest, August 2009
(click here to view article from web site)
When I was 10 years old and showing a 16.2h behemoth of a school horse named "Bullwinkle" white ponies were my nemesis. In the Childrens Hunters I was safely sequestered from their evil cuteness, but the equitation ring offered no protection from their adorable guiles. Suited in jods and paddocks - with a mushroom helmet but no garters - and mounted on a large-headed chestnut freight train with a double-twisted wire for protection, Bullwinkle and I were no match for tiny girls in tiny bows and tiny jods appropriately mounted on tiny, solid white ponies.
Even if The Moose and I did manage to pull together a halfway respectable trip the subconscious "cute points" earned by pricked ears, a bounding step, and a much more impressive effort over 2'6" fences was unbeatable. There were of course no fewer than six adorable white ponies that cruised our Circuit for what seemed centuries. Each of them could navigate any course in our mainstay North Arena with their eyes closed. They were the Evil White Ponies.
Of course it's clear now that by "evil" I meant "ridiculously appropriate" (and by "white" I meant "grey", for you color sticklers), because that's exactly what these ponies were. As confirmed show mounts they went in the ring a laid down the same winning trip every day. They stood by idly, yawning and cocking their weight from one hind leg to the other as they waited for the jog. They were far easier for a 10 year old girl weighing 65 lbs soaking wet to groom, get on, stop, turn, sit, etc. when compared to my Megabeast. They were exactly what a young, learning rider should be mounted on, and that's why they won. I can see this now of course, though I still believe the white ones get even MORE "cute points".
And it's good to see they're still out there. We have a couple listed and I had the chance to catch up with white pony veteran "Dixie Chick" late this summer at the Equifest Horse Show at Lamplight Equestrian Center in Wayne, IL.
Dixie had returned from a year long lease to a young Short Stirrup rider just days before the show. Some might be hesitant to take a pony they haven't seen in a year to a show within 36 hours of it returning home; one that has been plunking around crossbars with no filler, minimal rider input, and zero professional tuning for a year. No one seemed to worry about Dixie though, they were mostly there to have fun and enjoy their pony anyway.
When I arrived to the showgrounds I played a bit of phone tag trying to catch up with Dixie's owners. We finally convened outside of Dixie's stall, she appropriately acknowledged us and returned to munching hay. After a few minutes of idle chit chat a cell phone rang and the caller mentioned something about an under saddle starting NOW. Before my eyes mom and child flew into hyperdrive, grabbing said pony with a bridle and thanking their lucky stars she hadn't morphed into a green and white pinto. Dixie headed up to the ring with another helpful child while our show rider and mom scrambled to find the choker/number/gloves something . . . I can't remember exactly what, but it is one of those items that ALWAYS disappears when the announcer is screaming your name over the loud speaker and an entire hack class is waiting for your arrival.
We race in the golf cart to meet Dixie at the ring, there's actually time to breathe, remember we left something else at the barn, fetch it, and mount up. Unfortunately there is no time to warm up thanks to a distant schooling ring, but solid Dixie hacks to fourth anyway, and I believe I had her in the Top 3.
With 10 trips out we head to school. The warm up area is a glorified dressage ring with a divider smack down the vertical middle, which is supposed to keep the novice jumper riders from running over the novice pony riders. Too bad neither novice jumper riders nor novice pony riders are savvy enough to deal with this limited, one-on-top-of-another warm up space, but the schooling went on without a hitch and Dixie didn't seem to notice she barely rose past the belly of these beasts.
Dixie and her young rider saunter back to the show ring, wait a few trips, and waltz in for their two over fences rounds . . . | 
