Rex

(*Story courtesy of Newfoundlander Cle Newhook, long-time pony advocate and former Newfoundland Pony Society president. Photo courtesy of the Newfoundland Pony Society.)

I grew up in a small coastal fishing community on the East Coast of Newfoundland, Canada.  There was no electricity, indoor heating or running water and of course no indoor toilet facilities.  My God how we hated that freezing cold outhouse in the winter months!  Most families grew their own crops and cut their own firewood for the stove and a lot of families kept Newfoundland ponies. We knew them only as horses and they certainly earned their keep hauling kelp and fish offal from the beach to the vegetable gardens and dragging home great sled loads of firewood from the nearby woods over the winter months. They were hardy horses and well able to do a day’s hard work. And yet they were always calm and gentle (unless they were eating oats in which case it was best to leave them alone!) 


I loved going into the woods with Dad and Rex and most every Saturday if the weather was nice I would join Dad on the back beam of the bob sled and watch as Rex kicked up clumps of snow and ice from his shoed hoofs. We used to go to the same spot every weekend as the cutting was good. And I would sit proudly on the load of wood and hold the reins as we headed home with  a full load, although Rex knew exactly what to do.  Our house stood at the top of a pretty steep hill and Rex would always stop at the bottom to take a good blow before tackling the hill. At a word from Dad he would take the strain dig in his heels take the hill in one great pull.  At the top he would be sweating with the hard work but never did he refuse that hill.


One Saturday after we had loaded the sled Dad suggested that I was now old enough to take the load home by myself. “Just unload the sled and give Rex his head”, he said “he’ll know what to do”. So off I went large as life and proud as a peacock hoping that I would see some pals along the way. Everything went well and as usual Rex to0ok the hill in one final great pull right to the top where I unloaded the wood and turned the sled around. “I clicked the reins and told Rex to walk on. So off we went along the lane and into the woods path.  Rex seemed to know the way and in any case would not have paid any attention to me if I had told him where to go. We went up a fairly steep hill into the thick woods where Rex finally stopped.  I didn’t see Dad anywhere – for a very good reason.  Rex had taken us to the spot that Dad had used the winter before! Despite my tugging on the reins and shouting at him he would not budge an inch so I just sat there and waited. After a long while I heard Dad shouting to me.  I shouted back and was relieved to finally see him coming up the path.  “Rex took you to the wrong spot I see” he said. “Yes, I know” I said “now tell that to Rex”.  And he did.

​© Cle Newhook 2018