Grandma loved horses at least as much as I love horses, so it brings me a lot of joy when I read her stories about how much she loved riding or being around horses. I had never heard the story of Kitchener before, and I’m not sure what club she was part of for this story/photo – perhaps 4H or something like that. I also have no idea why the person marking this story gave her such a low grade, personally I thought the story was great – who knows what the actual assignment was though.

My Colt

In the first week of my colt’s life, there’s s not much to write about but head and legs. If his body would have been a little bigger, his head wouldn’t have looked so big, for it was a really dainty, innocent looking little head. He had a little yellowish, white nose, with wide nostrils and small mouth. His eyes were large and brown with a good width between them. He seemed to be proud of them because he was always rolling them and showing the whites of them. He had very smooth, sharp pointed ears and their size was in right proportion to his head. With the slightest sound, he would turn an ear to hear it and when the flies bothered him, for he was born the first of July 1923, he would lay both his ears down flat on his head, showing he was angry. As he gets older, his head gets more beautiful. He had a long, long neck this first week and a little fuzzy fringe of mane. His body was long and thin and a gold colour, for he is an English thoroughbred. He had very long, thin legs and a little curly tail that he was always switching.

The mother of my colt is my own and favourite pony. She is very high lifed and frisky or I could ride her to school. However, I can ride her in the fair and she has taken first prize every time she was put in. I kept my pony and colt in a little field all by themselves where the grass was tall and green. Every morning and evening I feed my pony oats or a bran mash and when my colt was old enough, I fed him oats. Every day I put a little halter on my colt and tied him up and cleaned him. In the cool evening I would coax and lead my little colt around until he would follow me anywhere. I soon began to make him trot and lope as well as walk. To do this, I had to take the long buggy whip and touch him just hard enough to make him trot or lope. I never bothered my colt much in the heat of the day when the flies were bad because he was always in a bad temper and sometimes would try to kick or bite me. It was very hard to pick a suitable name for him, but at last I decided to call him Kitchener.

As the fall was drawing near and school opening, I thought it would be alright to put him and his mother out in a field with the other horses where there was two or three straw stacks. I did this and they kept fat and frisky all winter. About the middle of February, I put a halter on my colt and put it in the stable by itself. The first week it was very lonesome for its mother, but it soon forgot her. During the winter it had grown more shapely but it had long, shaggy hair. Morning and night I fed it linseed and oats. Every Saturday I would brush and clean him and lead him out. When he’d first come out he’d buck and jump around me in a circle. After he had raced around me for a while, he would come up to me and I would give him a little salt or brown sugar.

One day after he had taken exercise, I tied him up and put a saddle blanket on him. He took no notice of it, so I put on a little saddle that weighed about five pounds. He drew away from me, and seemed a little nervous of the saddle, but I petted and talked to him and he soon took no notice of it either. Nearly every night when I was going to feed him I would step outside of the stable door and call him. He soon started to answer my call by his ringing whinnies and I could hear him paw the stable floor with his iron like hooves. When I would first go in, he would nibble and bite at my coat sleeve while I fed him. And when i would be getting his oats ready he would toss his head with a conceded little whinny.

On the first of May, my colt was shiny with a satin like coat and was well shaped. He would roll his eyes and always held his neck in a bow and would toss his head and let out a fierce, ringing neigh. He had strong muscular legs and a long body and neck. He was very easily trained. When I would tell him to get over, he would move to the other side of his stall and when I told him to back up, he would back up. All together he seemed a very intelligent little colt and I hope he will someday be a good racehorse.

Teacher note: your story is a good one, but the booklet is not well prepared 4/10

Additional note: took cold Dec 20, 1924. took sick Dec 24, 1924. Died March 8 1925

Poor little Kitchener, poor Grandma.

Here’s a poem that she wrote that I found in a stack of papers that is about this beloved little colt.

Kitchener

You want me to write of my favourite horse

Oh, you don’t understand I know of course.

You don’t know how deep in my heart

Had sunk the love from which I had to part.

I’ve had many playmates and many a chum

But their affections couldn’t equal this dear one.

He would play whenever I’d want to play

No person so agreeable as he was always.

I guess you have never played games with a horse

Perhaps you will think I am fibbing or worse.

But it’s the truth; oh, I know how true

How clever and playful, I can’t tell you.