48ABOUT A WHOLE BUNCH OF STUFFdown. We put her in the stable and
gave her a good straw bed. The
following day, the family came for
her, and the next day Polly went
to pony heaven. She had come to
bid me farewell. I will never forget
the day my Uncle Neil brought her
home for me. I was eight years old
at the time.
The memories of my beloved
Polly will never be forgotten.
[Editor’s note: The remarkable part
of this story is that on that fateful
night that Polly came to visit, she
did it of her own accord. Beulah
remembered her mother telling
her that Polly had “gone missing,”
according to their cousin Art Boyd,
the boy who rode Polly when she
went to live on his family farm in
Moonstone. After reading Bessie’s
story, I asked Beulah if she could
clarify the events that led up to
Polly being on their front lawn. I
asked if an uncle or cousin had
brought Polly over to say goodbye.
Or did Polly somehow find her way
back to Bessie and navigate those
five miles on her own?
Beulah responded, “In answer
to your question, that pony found
its way along the Moonstone Road
(which we called the county road)
and up Concession 10 to Mother’s
family farm on her own.”
Now, that’s a pony tale! Fret not,
there’s more! You won’t believe this
next one!]The Amputation of
Aunt Annie’s Leg
By Bessie WilsonT
his incident happened
many, many years before
Medicare or OHIP was
even thought of.
My great aunt had bruised and
cut her leg as she was helping
to milk the cows on her farm in
Medonte Township. The lady
had many home remedies, and I
suppose she tried them all. Her
husband had died some years
before, and she and her son were
on the farm. As near as I can
recall, my aunt’s leg suffered a