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Dear [Your Name Goes
Here!],
Hi! My name is Peter Pan, but you can call me Petey for short. Yeah, I know, it’s sort of a cutesy nickname, but I’m a cutesy kind of guy. I’m a seven-year-old pinto pony, just a little over thirteen hands tall. That means I’m about fifty-three inches tall at the top of my shoulders. I like being small!You can sneak up
on the other horses and bite the underside of their chins and
they can’t do anything about it. It’s awesome. My coat is bay with big white splashes, and I have a very bushy mane and tail. I dunno about that mane – it’s awfully hot in the summer, but on the other hand, I think it makes me look fierce. I have white legs and a big star, and a little pink stripe on my face. I also wear pink stuff. I have a pink halter, and a pink bridle and a pink saddle pad. It’s okay, really. I know I’m a boy, but I am a little girl’s pony… and since little girls are the best at loving ponies, I think I can handle it!
For the past few years of my life I have belonged to a little girl named Caroline. Caroline is just the BEST, and we’ve done so many things together… Pony Club, and games camp, and mock foxhunting, and trail riding, and jumping, and just about everything! She hadn’t been riding very long when I went to live with her, but I showed her that it’s not so hard. You just have to hold on and have fun! Some days she would come down to the barn just to brush me . . . . . . .
[Read more in the letter to YOU!]
. . . . . . . . . . .. Now you know all of the important things about me, so I guess I’ll end this letter here; I feel like going to pester Wilbur into playing with me, anyway. But I’ll write again soon, and meanwhile, you can write me back and
tell me all the important things about you!
Dear [Your Name Goes
Here!],
Why hello! My name is Sage, and I’m the boss. I think it is important you know this about me right off the bat. I am the lead mare around here – and occasionally the queen of the universe. I don’t like to make a fuss about it, but it’s a fact. If you prove to be a better leader than me, I will respect you; if you prove to be a better leader AND give me carrots, I will respect you and love you for the rest of your life. Otherwise, it’ll just be less trouble if you do as I say!
I am a seventeen-year-old gray mare, fifteen and a half hands high. Everyone thinks I am mostly Quarter Horse, with a dash of Arabian and Thoroughbred, but only I know my true breeding and I’m not telling. In my 
younger days I was a deep silvery dapple gray, but as I get older my coat grows whiter and whiter and now you can barely see my dapples at all. Over the past few years I’ve started getting freckles – they’re called fleabitten marks, which is not a very nice name at all and certainly doesn’t make me sound as beautiful as I am! There are definite advantages to being a “white” horse, as all the little girls fall in love with me at first sight and shower me with treats, but I’ll let you in on a secret – I’ve always wanted to be a pinto. You know, with the big splashes of color mixed in with the white? There’s a pinto pony at my barn and I think he is just the cutest thing ever. Since I can’t really dye my coat, I improvise by rolling in whatever I can find . . .
I live at HorseSense Riding Academy, in
Talking Rock, Georgia, where I make a nice living as a school horse. Not everyone is cut out to be a school horse, but I’ll tell you what, I’m actually kind of fond of my job . . . [Read more in
a letter to YOU!] . . Well, I think I should wrap this up, because it’s almost time to go out into the pasture and I have important lead mare things to do. But I’ll write again soon, and meantime you can send me letters back. Don’t
forget: I am the boss, and peppermints are the best. Bye bye!