My name is Joggele,
 great to meet you!

 

I joined the family at about six months old—over 35 years ago now. While my grandfather was still peacefully grazing on the sparse meadows of the Shetland Islands, I had already become a true Styrian at heart.

 

When I was purchased, there was neither a paddock nor a shelter ready for me. And the man of the house had to be gently prepared for the shock—though, as I heard, he took the news with remarkable composure. Within two weeks, my enclosure was fenced, a lovely little house (always open for me) was built, and a run was set up. I ended up with a luxury home and a 3,000-square-metre meadow to call my own—quite content, indeed.

A bit more company wouldn’t go amiss, but when my humans are working in the garden, I like to lean against the fence and watch. Often, they come into my area and potter about—that’s my greatest joy. After all, a pony can lend a helping hoof, can’t he? Though my humans seem to have a different name for it! Sometimes, a piece of bread or a treat might just "accidentally" fall my way...

I’m a free-spirited stallion, completely untrained—no riding, no pulling carts—but I’m gentle and love a good cuddle. If someone whispers especially sweet words into my nostrils, I close my eyes and even forget to breathe. And yes, I can say "yes"... but only if I feel like it. Usually, I do enjoy being asked nicely.

Now, I don’t mean to boast, but if my humans had spent more time with me, I could have learned so much more. All I need to do is watch, and I’ve got it. Once, when my man was tightening the tension wire on the fence with lots of twists, I followed behind and neatly untwisted the ends with my strong teeth. I don’t think he enjoyed that as much as I did...

I have one great passion: escaping. If there’s even the slightest opportunity, I’m out in a flash. The last time, just before being taken back to my own meadow, I quickly devoured the garlic bed—roots and all. There’s nothing quite like causing a bit of mischief! Since then, I’ve developed a taste for herbs (except onions—though I do get the occasional nibble, if only a tiny bit). My absolute favourite is wild vetch, especially when hand-picked. It works like a charm—once the vetch blooms, my humans harvest it just for me. You see, you just have to train people properly!

And what do the humans say about me? One old farmer neighbour once remarked, "You only keep him for show, don’t you?"

"That’s right," my humans replied, "and for love."

A Sad Postscript:

Our dear Joggele is no longer with us. On 25 October 2002, he fell ill, and after a morning of struggle and hope, he passed away in the afternoon in the hands of the vet, who could not save him.

Dear Joggele, wherever you are now: we hope you are well. We will never forget you, and we miss you dearly.