I found Arty in July 2009. He was a trail horse who had been given to his owner as he couldn't be ridden at the previous owner's schooling barn. He would grab the bit in his mouth, and take off with his nose in the air. Quick fix: his owner rode him in a hackamore with a martingale. Problem solved! The first time I rode Arty, somebody held onto him while I hopped on (from the ground... he's afraid of mounting blocks). Immediately, I was holding him back. It took a lot of work, primarily arm muscle, to keep him from breaking to trot. Finally, we trotted. It was similar to riding... I don't really know. I've never really ridden anything like that. His trot was short and quick, I mean really quick. After maybe 20 minutes he finally started to relax, a little. We tried the canter, and he picked up the right lead despite not having been ridden in an arena in over three years, and having little prior experience. After that first ride, I'd fallen in love. Arty went from there to being a champion hunter, with a bit and martingale in a year and a half. Okay, the champion hunter may be a slight exaggeration... he placed in 2' green hunter classes at our local saddle club. Does that count? Either way, he'll always be a champion to me. This little pony means more to me than I ever thought a horse could. He's my heart, my soul, and my baby. While I've never owned him, and probably never will he will always be my boy.