Meet Nayonli – a fun loving but quiet equine – who enjoys mostly listening to the other tales and stories of the bears of an evening – She doesn’t say alot, or as was once said ‘It doesn’t talk, it neighs only, what fun is that?”
“But that is what ponies are supposed to do.” I offered “It’s how they speak to you.”
So you can see how this little lovely acquired or perhaps l should say equired her name ‘Nayonli’.
Nayonli grazes on the outskirts of the crowds, watching and listening. Although she is very close to Foxy.
Not all my rescue tales are long and verbose, some are quiet, short and unassuming … Nayonli is also like this … she just likes life and enjoys the quiet – she is an empath by nature. She sits quietly and listens and only offers advice if asked, but it comes around and about after much contemplation … are you one too?
I know a few here in WordPress. But Nayonli and l had a small talk before l started writing her tale today and she said that there are some really good guides out there … below is one.
With every rescue l try and do a bit of background research on their history but sometimes there are no clear identifiers marking who they are and from what family they descended from and Nayonli is of this kind. However, no problem, she is now part of my clan, Henry and Mickey’s clan, she is family and as far as we are all concerned … that’s all that truly matters.
Nayonli joined the clan in 2010 and at that time l was renting in what l seriously and comically alike class as my Tour of Duty in the Hellhole! Otherwise known as the period of time when l rented alongside Dora and Scrappy as my loyal companions and friends a forty-foot caravan on the Fens in Lincolnshire between the years of 2009 and 2012.
I used to work the stables there as a way of paying for my rent and was oh so lucky to be earning a single £1 per hour – l kid you not. To say the Hellhole is no jest – it’s a lifetime ago in my world, several in fact, but despite the horrors l learned a lot about myself during that time. It wasn’t that far out from being diagnosed with Asperger’s which happened in 2008. I learned a lot about people during that time and at the same time became very cynical about life. I learned that sadly at times, Asperger’s and autism brings out the worst behaviour in some people.
I have always a soft heart, it’s how some people are able to manipulate and coerce people like myself – because we never like to see or think of the bad in people. We know it’s present, but l try to give people the benefit of the doubt … sadly, you get burned that way and so tada – ‘cynicism’ become a part of your identity whether you want it to or not.
On the day l rescued Nayonli, and from memory it was in the spring of 2010. The landlord’s son who as a youngster himself and at that time was aged 13 or 14 was a mischief maker and a spoiled brat really, but deep down beneath all the high jinks was a nice kid … he just didn’t know it and if he did, he didn’t want to be nice, he wanted above everything to be a lad, a troublemaker, a shit stirrer and all the other good things in life you can be if you don’t want to be just basically nice. He had a serious chip on his shoulder, mollycoddled by his mother and constantly trying to prove himself to his father. In all it made my time seriously unpleasant, especially if ‘he was on one’.
That day in spring he was in such a mood. He was bored and looking for trouble, any trouble, but was grounded because of his troublemaking ways. He had just stolen the horse teddy from his younger sister who was at piano lessons. I was working in the stable yard mucking out the resident DIYers stalls when he arrived in his usual style, patronising and condescending and cocky as shit.
Being spoiled and having everything at his disposal made him at times unbearable to be around … but if l said anything l was usually punished by his father or my meagre money was stopped by his mother or worse, the lives of my dogs threatened.
It’s never easy playing the role of the subservient puppet, but it was a role l had to not just play but learn to accept as my way of survival there. I had to put up with the mockery, the jibes of being stupid because of my Asperger’s, to be treated as a lesser person because of autism. Whilst l wasn’t bothered by the presence of my autism, l can understand all too well why many youngsters choose not to tell others of their inclusion on the spectrum – they fear trolling, abuse and bullying and l know this because l suffered at the hands of my landlords and their son for three long years until my escape in 2012.
It is a time, l use as reference only, and for a good year after l left that place l suffered continuing nightmares because of my treatment and living in a constant state of high stress due to their mental abuse under the so called guise of ‘friendship’.
Anyway, now you should have a slightly clearer profile of his mentality and so that day he rolled up at the stable door with his usual quip “Alright stupid?” He thought it was humour.
Underneath his right arm he carried the teddy. “Isn’t that your sister’s?” I asked.
“Yeah, what of it, it’s a bloody soft toy, a useless thing. She herself said it only neighs, what fun is that?”
“But it’s hers and she is very close to it, and that’s what ponies do, they neigh as a way of communicating, talking to you.”
“Rory it’s a fucking toy mate, this is why my parents think you are stupid mate. You got all your priorities wrong! You need to get out into the real world … you know that place down the road, the village? That’s real-life pal!”
“Right of course, the village is the absolute epicentre of the universe, anyway what are you doing with her pony?”
“I am bored, so l thought l would experiment!” With that he produced his lighter [he had started smoking at 12] and proceeded to light one of the feet of the teddy.
Mortified l watched, “What the hell are you doing??!” I yelled at him and grabbed the pony from him. “Are you trying to get slain by your mother? Cause world war three with your father and release the wrath of your sister? You live on a farm that houses horses and ponies and you think it’s perfectly ‘alright’ to set fire to an animal?”
He laughed and walked off cursing me leaving the pony toy with me. I looked at the damage, luckily it wasn’t too badly burned, but still …
When his sister had returned home from her lessons, l took the pony around to her and explained that l had rescued it without going into too much detail and made up a story that l had found it outside. I explained to the mother the whole story and she just looked at me in astonishment .. “How dare you say that about my son! He would never do that and even if he did Rory, it’s just a toy!”
At that point, the sister who had been holding the injured pony suddenly declared … “It’s ruined, it’s dead! I don’t want it … l want a bike!” With that she threw the pony to the ground and kicked it away. I fetched the pony, picked it up and was about to say something when the mother instructed me to throw the useless thing away.
Obviously, l didn’t … l took it back to my forty-foot caravan and put it into a box with my other bears. I never had them on display, as the son used to break into my home and steal from me and l didn’t want my clan being stolen and thrown away or held to ransom. That is how Nayonli joined the family.
When l moved away from Hell in 2012, and took up residence in my new house – all of the bears were for the first time in nearly four years once more on display and allowed to breathe again, but more importantly … live again …
…. and that’s the story of Nayonli.
Thanks for reading, catch you next time.