CHAPTER 3

Throughout the Winter of 1964 and early 1965 I got to know my new owners. Mike was a schoolteacher who taught farming and gardening at Pembroke, about eight miles away, while Mrs. Evans, or Delyth as I shall call her, stayed at home and looked after the house and children, and during the Spring and Summer took in family visitors. Mark and Michael were not then old enough to go to school and spent most of their time playing outside in the yard.

I became almost a local celebrity as everyone in the village was invited to see me and to walk me around the yard and fields. As Spring arrived I was let out to graze in a small paddock with three yearling Hereford cattle for company. The field was bounded by the village street, so I soon got used to the everyday noises of people and children and the roar of passing tractors and motorcars.

One day, Mike took me out around the village and held me tightly as the traffic passed. He was concerned that the noise might scare me, for he did not know that I had become used to traffic back in my previous home in the mountains.

I soon knew my name and when anyone called 'Twilight!' I would canter to the gate to be given a piece of bread or a biscuit. My favourite treat was a Polo mint and even to this day I am very fond of anything with a minty flavour.

All that Spring and Summer I was allowed to graze in the paddock with the Hereford cattle. We were joined in late May by four more youngsters who had been reared all Winter in the shed next to my stable.

"You've got a good master here," said Brenda, the oldest of the Herefords. "They are all very kind. I came here as a tiny calf born three months early. I was smaller than a sheepdog and very weak, but they looked after me well so that now I'm strong and as powerful as any other Hereford."

I grew taller and stronger as the days went by and by the end of the Summer was almost fully grown and reaching 12.2 hands. Mark and Michael would sit on my back and I would be led around the field. Mike bought a saddle and bridle and gently persuaded me to have these put on. I made no fuss and everyone was amazed how quiet and well behaved I was.

One day at the end of December I had been with my owners for just over a year. It was Christmas Eve, I was in the stable with the outer door open. All the family were out and a man came to deliver the poultry corn. Because it was raining he put the bag in my stable leaning against the inner half door.

I could reach over and soon tore open the top of the bag. The mixed corn and protein pellets tasted and smelt delicious. I could not resist eating more and more of it. Soon, nearly half the bag was gone and thirsty I drank nearly a bucket of water.

Within a few minutes I began to feel uncomfortable and terrible pains started in my stomach. I could not stand and went down on the straw straining and gasping for breath. My abdomen swelled and the pain was unbearable. I lay with back arched, whites of my eyes showing, grunting and groaning. I had colic for over-eating and being greedy.

I lay there for over an hour when I heard Mike's voice "What's wrong with Twilight?" he shouted. All the family rushed into the stable to see me lying on the straw in obvious pain and distress. "Get the vet quick Del," said Mike, "I think she's dying!"

Within minutes, David the vet arrived and his diagnosis was a bad bout of colic. He drenched me with turpentine to ease the wind and gave me an injection. The pain eased quickly and I felt better, but too weak to stand.

"We must keep turning her over," said David. "This will stop complications and as soon as she's able she must stand up and walk around."

All that night Mike and the vet stayed with me. I was turned around and encouraged to stand, but I was too weak. Delyth made tea all through the night to cheer everyone up, but I could tell that they did not give much chance for my recovery, for I had eaten over 20lbs of mixed corn!

By early morning on Christmas Day, when all had almost given up hope, I stirred, let go a mighty blast of wind and stood up! "She's made it," said David. "She'll be all right now. Walk her around all day and give her nothing to eat but a bit of hay and water."

I spent all of Christmas Day 1965 being led up and down the field, around the lanes and up and down the village street. It was quite a few days before I was my normal self and I heard Mike say "Who but David the vet would give up his Christmas Eve to sit in a stable nursing a little Welsh Mountain Pony?"

I shall never forget his actions and his unselfish professionalism, for he undoubtedly saved my life!

I never bothered with animal food sacks ever again, nor were they ever left within my reach. I'd had a narrow escape and from then on everyone was very careful to check carefully how much I ate.

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