Memo to Pension and Retirement Services

Dear Sir/Madame,

I believe there has been some mistake made regarding my retirement. You see, several years ago I moved to a lovely facility called Paint Creek Ranch (how apropos, given that I am, in fact, a Paint) where I was to live out my days doing nothing more strenuous than eating and having a daily swim in my duck pond with my fellow gentlemen pensioners.

Here I am at Paint Creek Ranch. Isn't it just lovely?

However, two weeks ago my mum showed up, loaded me in a trailer (which I haven't been in for years, except to go to the vet), and took me "home." There I met Taran and Saga, who are really quite nice - Saga even shares his alfalfa and beet pulp. However, there is this vicious little pony (really! He's only 14.2 hh, the little midget) who apparently is offended by my beautiful spotted self - I would imagine he's jealous given that he only has a few roan hairs while I have these lovely, shiny, large black spots. Anyway, the little bugger proceeded to make my life miserable, kicking at me and running me through a fence. The nerve of him! Fortunately for him, I am far too much of a gentleman to retaliate, otherwise I could squash his little self flat in no time, I assure you.

Anyway, this new lifestyle suits me well enough now that that little Reddums creature isn't allowed near me. Although, there is no duck pond here, so I have asked the management to install one at their earliest convenience. The food is good and delivered in a timely manner, and I do enjoy getting more carrots from mum than I used to. However, I am sure there has been some grievous mistake, as retired horses are not ridden. And as you can clearly see from this picture, I am being ridden!

There's only one way to get a photograph like this, and it's from my back!

Now, please understand that I don't mind being ridden. In fact, I quite liked my previous job as an event horse - I must say I was very good at it, and I did look stunning, don't you think?

You know, the older I get, the better I was.

And then later, when mum retired me from eventing, I was a dressage schoolmaster. They call horses this because there comes a point when they are smarter than their riders. You see, when you are in a lesson and you are a schoolmaster, you simply pay attention to what the instructor is saying, and then you do it when it's your turn. Do your best to ignore your rider as they likely haven't a clue how to do whatever it is the instructor has asked - you are the expert here, and it's your job to let your rider know it. For example, if the instructor says to canter across the arena and then do a simple change at X, it's easy enough - just canter halfway across the arena, trot for five or so steps in the middle of the arena, pick up the other canter lead, and off you go! Remember to ignore whatever your rider is telling you to do since they are likely wrong. If you do it right, you make your rider look brilliant so they say "good boy!" a lot and pet you. The instructor is happy, and then you get extra treats at the end of the lesson. I don't know why some horses make such a fuss over this - you really only have to pay attention for an hour or so, and the better you make your rider look, the more treats you get. Quite simple, really.

So you see, I really have earned my retirement. I respectfully request that the pension office review their files and see what can be done about this riding thing. Although I suppose it is fun to get out again and show off a bit... these younger horses, they just don't seem to know how to behave. What is it with today's youth?

Very sincerely yours,

Mr. Black Tie Affair, Esq., aka Cash
Stall #1, Wyvern Oaks, Texas

Encl: Three photographs