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February 2019 Story & Poem Contest Rules: Winning stories and poems will be published in Pony Pals Magazine. All entries must be original, meaning that the member who enters them must have written the text. To be eligible the story or poem must have a horse or pony in it someplace. Stories should be suitable for all ages, including younger members. All entries published in the Magazine will earn 500 Wiggins Bucks, the best stories and poems will earn 3000 Wiggins bucks and trophy for the writer. Pony writer quills are awarded every day, remember to quit the scavenger hunt and restart it after you get your quill to earn a higher score.

Doyle's Story I was breathing heavily, surrounded by heartless owners. One yelled, “Stop!” and I bucked. He took a few huge steps toward me. I reared up. I was forced to stand still as he put an old halter onto my face. I felt a yank on the lead rope, and I had no choice but to follow this awful human. . . . “He is really pretty, Dad. Please, can we get him?” I looked up. I saw two faces, one was a girl’s face, and the other was a man’s face. The girl looked young, maybe thirteen. The man, though, was tall and muscular, but his face looked kind. “Alright, Charlie. I’ll look into him.” The girl gazed at me as the man walked away. I heard the man speaking, but I couldn’t hear anything, for he was too far away. He came back. The girl tried to speak, but the man seemed to know what she was going to say. “Yes, he’s ours now,” he said. “The horse is broken in already. ” The girl was delighted. One of my horrible owners led me into a large, clean trailer. It was that man’s trailer! I was going to live at that man’s house! I snorted with delight. I couldn’t wait one more moment. I had to see that stable! The trailer roared to life. I whinnied happily, thinking of how my old owners had treated me and how these I was breathing heavily, surrounded by my heartless owners. “Stop!” shouted one. new owners will. I knew they would treat me kindly. Then, the trailer ramp slid down and I backed up. “Let’s name him Doyle,” said the girl. “ Yeah, Charlie’’, said the man, “That’s a great name. Hi, Doyle. Welcome to your new home: The Equine Special Needs Stable for therapy horses, like what you will soon be.” He led me into an enormous stable, filled with horses and ponies, big and small. My stall was number 14, a roomy area that I had always dreamed of. “Hi, I’m Peppy,” nickered a horse, “What’s your name?” said he. “I’m Doyle…and tired,’’ I said. Not soon after that, I fell asleep. My training began the next morning, and after 6 months of training, I was the amazing therapy horse I was meant to be. . . . A girl sat on my back now. She had a prosthetic leg on. I was trotting with her, and we both enjoyed it. It was my second year here, and I think had done amazing because I was always the horse children wanted to ride. I had been a hero, and so were my owners. Charlie had even told me that I was a hero. I loved living my days here.	Bananaboohoo & Honey Pot
2019-02-21 01:10:37
Like cinders in a fire place Your coat is such the case My dear pony and miracle how I loved you What is a girl to do? Dream of you and wait to get my wings to ride together again. I love you Sinder girl certainly the best pony ever.	user no longer exists & ---
2019-02-27 03:33:23