Once upon a time, there was a pony named Emma. She was a Fell Pony, and as such, not tiny. When she was full grown, she would be big enough for a light adult to ride her.
Emma was only two, which means she was full of herself, and had opinions about everything. One day, her opinion, which said “I go through this door FIRST”, and the opinion of another, larger horse, collided. They both had the same opinion about who was going to go through the door first. Unfortunately, they both didn’t fit, and Emma lost that discussion. She also cracked her elbow and her scapula on the door jamb, and things were bleak for a while.
She couldn’t put any weight on her leg. She hobbled around like a tripod, and looked miserable. The vet came out and took x-rays. Uh oh. Stall time for Emma, and maybe, just maybe, she’d get well enough to be a beautiful pasture ornament for the rest of her life.
Fortunately for us all, Emma was wise beyond her years and took very good care of that leg. In only a few days, with the help of some horsey pain killers, she was starting to put weight back on it. She stayed quiet in her stall, ate hay, and chewed on wood. Her good friend Declan, another large pony-sized equine, stayed in the barn with her and kept her company. Emma was very grateful to Declan for making that sacrifice.
Emma’s mom thought it would be nice to braid Emma’s very substantial mane into braids, because it was quite warm in the barn and it would help keep Emma cool. So she did. Emma was not impressed, especially with her forelock braid.
“Why do I have to have my forelock braided,” she fretted, and rubbed her head against the side of the stall. It’s itchy. It goes sideways. It’s got YELLOW TWINE in it, for crying out loud. I look like a hussy instead of a cute pony.”
Emma rubbed and rubbed. The braid became more and more messy. At last, success! Her forelock was once again free!
After braiding it three times and having it rubbed out, Emma’s mom gave up. If Emma wanted her forelock loose that badly, so be it.
Emma worked on the rest of the braids. It gave her something to do while she was confined to the stall. Got them all out, too.
She continued to heal. After 8 long weeks, she and Declan got to go back outside. Now she’s once again free, eating green grass, and running. Braid free.