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My family likes visiting Tim Summer’s farm. His family owns many animals. The one I like best is a brown and white pony named Bang.

Bang’s wild. Bang’s fun. Tim’s dad “clicker trained” him. Bang still bucks. I think clicker training’s meant for dogs. Mom says that trying it on a pony was “some bright idea.”

Anyway, a few visits ago, Tim’s family put a saddle on the pony. After the saddle was tied to him, my little sister, Sami, guided by Mrs. Summers holding the reigns, rode him. Sami’s four.

I can’t ride Bang. I have to stay in my wheelchair. I would flop off if they fastened me to him.

My mom noticed my tears. She talked to Tim’s dad. She talked to some people who help differently abled boys and girls ride. Mom said something about better strength, balance, and coordination. Dad said something about more social interactions. Sami just asked to go back to see the pony.

We went back to the farm. Someone had attached a carriage to Bang. He didn’t like it and kept on bucking.

Mom and Dad were smiling. Tim’s parents were smiling. All the grownups wanted me to get into the carriage.

I looked at Bang. He was making angry sounds and was still bucking.

Back and forth, from the grownups to the pony, I looked. I decided. I crossed my arms over my chest. My legs don’t work, but the rest of me does.

“No!” I shouted.

The grownups made pretty words. Then they begged. Then they got angry.

I kept my arms crossed and said “no” again and again.

Eventually, Mr. Summer unhooked the carriage.

I unhooked my arms.

Mr. Summers went into his house. I thought he was still mad at me.

When he returned, he handed me an apple. I wheeled over to Bang.

Mr. Summers showed me how to hold my palm flat.

The next time I visited, Mr. Summers taught me how to use a curry comb. I can reach Bang’s belly. I didn’t know that ponies like belly rubs.

When I brush Bang, Mr. Summers stays with me. Sometimes, ponies move their legs too quickly for a boy to roll aside.

Sami still rides Bang. She still looks tiny on him.

I’ve begun to collect pictures of Bang in a photo album. My occupational therapist had that idea. He said that gluing pictures into a book would be great for me.

What’s greater is visiting Bang at the Summers’. I love that pony! I’m glad he loves apples, curry combs and me.