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     On my eighth birthday, my father told me to go out to the barn and see his new spotted calves. Always eager to see new livestock, I rushed out to the barn. There in the first stall was a darling, little brown and white pony. Later, we were to learn that this pony had a large repertoire of tricks and would sit and shake hands and all sorts of other things. This was the beginning of my love for ponies but, it wasn't until I was married with a daughter of my own that I became a serious enthusiast.
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