A Day in the Life of a Polo Pony
A day in the life of Snooty. By Snooty. Obviously.
6:00am
The yard stirs. Somewhere in the distance, a human is making coffee and pretending they're a morning person. I am already awake. I have been awake since 5:47am, waiting for breakfast, which is now thirteen minutes late. I say nothing. I simply stare at the stable door with the quiet dignity of someone who has carried a four-goal player to victory and received a pat on the neck in return.
A pat. On the neck.
7:30am
Grooming. My human means well. I will allow it.
9:00am
Training. My rider today believes he is improving. He is not. His off-side forehand has the elegance of a confused tourist and his weight distribution suggests he has never sat on anything faster than a sofa. I carry him anyway, because that is what I do, and because I am, frankly, exceptional.
11:30am
A spectator on the sideline is wearing one of those tees. The one with the polo joke on it. I approve. At least someone here has taste.
1:00pm
Lunch. This is the best part of my day and I will not be elaborating.
3:00pm
Match time. Four chukkas. I will not break a sweat. My rider will break several. There will be shouting. There will be at least one disputed foul. There will be a moment where someone on the opposing team thinks they have the upper hand.
They do not.
5:30pm
It is over. We won. My rider will take the credit. I will take a long drink of water and contemplate the injustice of the world with quiet, unbothered grace.
Someone gives him a mug with a polo joke on it. He laughs loudly. I watch from the yard.
It is, I admit, a good mug.
8:00pm
The yard is quiet now. The humans have gone home to their houses and their candles and their lives that do not involve carrying anyone anywhere.
I stand in my stable. I think about nothing. I require nothing.
I am Snooty, the one and only.
Think Snooty would approve of your chosen gift ? Browse the mare's favourite tees, caps, mugs and candles — because some of us have standards.