Sent in by Kaylah

It was late August 2003. Spring was just around the corner and everyone could feel it. The spring storms, the scent of blooming flowers, the sight of fresh green grass blowing in the breeze. My birthday was also just around the corner. September 17. This time of year was usually my favourite. Spring has always been my favourite time of year, not to mention my birthday! However, this year was different. My parents were not going to be there for my birthday as they had important business overseas. I was really upset at this news as we always had huge family gatherings for everyone's birthday.

My parents desperately needed something to cheer me up. We lived on a small acerage which wasn't fenced. We used it to play soccer in and we loved to swim in the big dam right in the centre of the paddock. I had always had a keen love for horses but my parents always said that we could never afford to keep a horse so I settled for riding a friend's 30 year old pony.

Well, one day as we drove down the driveway from school I saw a brown figure standing under a tree in our paddock. It looked very much like one of my friend's bay horses so I figured she must be keeping it in our paddock. A make-shift electric fence had been hastily put up. As we got closer, however, I noticed that this horse was much smaller than my friend's warmblood. As we jumped out of the car I gave my parents a weary look. They both smiled at me and said, "Happy birthday!"

I couldn't believe my ears. My very own pony was here, in my paddock, standing under a tree like she had been there her whole life. I sprinted up to her and noticed that she wasn't the gleaming show pony of my dreams. She was a very scruffy looking, dark bay caked in mud with rug burns on both shoulders. Still, she was mine.

My mother told me how she went to look at her on the weekend. Her name was Molly. She didn't know what breed she was or where she really came from but when my mum got there, Molly rested her head in my mum's arms and she knew that Molly was the one. However, my mother, knowing nothing at all about horses, had bought her without even seeing how she was ridden. She just took the man's word for it that she was one of those 'bombproof' ponies.

My first ride on Molly was a disaster. The second I jumped on she took off at a trot, canter, I screamed (stupid me), scared Molly, she bolted and headed straight for the flimsy electric fence, stopping suddenly and throwing me into a tree. Aside from some bad bruises, I was otherwise unharmed.

As I was untacking Molly, she turned around to look at me with her big brown, innocent eyes. She started licking her lips and gave me a small nicker. I forgave her instantly. Our next ride together was very successful. It seemed she had settled in quite nicely. It was a Friday.

Sunday rolled around. I woke up nice and early. Today was the day I was going to take Molly for our first trail ride together. I sat up in bed and looked out the window. It was raining. I couldn't believe it. A dissapointed 13-year-old walked out into the paddock with a raincoat on and a bucket of feed.

I called to Molly but she didn't come. I could see her laying down in the very far side of the paddock. I thought she couldn't hear me through the rain so I slowly made my way through the mud and slushy grass up to her. She lifted her head and got up slowly. I sighed and relief filled me. However, she wouldn't touch her feed and I knew something was wrong.

For the next 30 mins we just watched Molly unsure about what to do. (You have to remember this was our first horse and the thought of calling a vet never crossed our mind). Molly would stand up for about 3 mins and then lay down for 10. She did that a few times before we suddenly decided that we should call her previous owner and ask his opinion. He told us she probably had some form of minor colic and that I should just keep her moving and not let her lay down.

So for the next 3 hours, in the drizzling rain, I walked my pony around and around the paddock. I looked at those once beautiful, big brown eyes. Her eyes were now sucken and pain and anxiety filled every corner of them. I had practically told her my life story when all of a sudden she just dropped to the ground. She refused to stand and groaned and moaned when I pulled at her tail and kicked her desperately to get her up.

That was when we decided to call the vet. He came out and did a quick examination of Molly. He was confused because she had all the symptoms of colic, however, many of the symptoms were too strong to be just colic. For example, her heart rate was over 110 (normal pulse: around 45). Then he opened her mouth and told us solemly that he knew the problem. There was a faint, thin blue line running through Molly's gums. He exclaimed that Molly had toxemia. A deadly disease where poison enters the blood stream. He then looked at us and even he had tears in his eyes when he told us that he hasn't ever known, through all his years of being a vet, a horse that has pulled through this. That night I sat with Molly in the paddock, my red, tear-stained face buried in her thick coat. The vet had asked us if we wanted to put her down but we just wanted one more night with her. For some reason I couldn't bring myself to say yes.

My mum eventually came out and took me into the house. I didn't sleep the whole night knowing that when I woke up that there was a very good chance my horse would be dead.

I slowly made my way down the stairs preparing myself for the image of my pony splayed out on the grass. However, my eyes were met with a different sight. My pony was up and getting a drink from the dam. I felt like pinching myself it was so unreal. We immediately called the vet. He said that Molly was probably trying to make a final come-back but she would still die. 3 weeks passed. Molly was grazing in the paddock by this stage apparantly unaware of the fatal disease she had just so amazingly dismissed. The vet came out and told us that he couldn't believe it.

He said that Molly may actually pull through but she would never be able to be worked or ridden again because her heart was so weak from the sickness.

So for 3 months I just groomed Molly. Kept her company. Even read her stories out of some of my favourite short story books. Then the day came when I went to feed Molly and take her rug off. She snorted and whinnied to me as I came walking down to the paddock gate. That day, I decided that I should try lungeing her. I lunged Molly for a few minutes once a week for a month. Then, one day as I was lungeing her she was barely able to contain herself. She pulled at the rope and galloped around. I knew it was time to put a saddle on her back. We called the vet to make sure that this was okay and he agreed that if Molly was that energetic that I should at least try walking her.

I had trouble with Molly for the next few months. But not with her sickness. Oh no-- I had trouble trying to control her. It seemed the only thing that ran across her mind was 'gallop,gallop,gallop'. Now, I can do anything with Molly. I celebrated our 2 year anniversary together last August. I also took Molly to her first show in late February of 2005 and we placed first. She is now rugged and kept in top condition. She is now the gleaming show pony of my dreams. My dad has even written a book that features Molly's story as a sign of hope to many. It will be going off to the publishers shortly. The book is titled, "Molly the Miracle Mare." Because that is what she is. A miracle.