Won’t buy me a horse? I’m running away!

I think most kids at some time or another have a crack at running away from home. This episode occurred around age 10 after I had whinged and pestered my poor long-suffering parents for a horse of my own. Our neighbour was kind enough to let my friend and I ride his horses but I was desperate to have that pony of my own. In my child logic, it was a simple matter. Buy me a horse or I will run away. My threat was met with negativity and unbelief. Well I would show them, and anyhow, doesn’t their world revolve around me? It was a lesson learned: when faced with the big decisions of coping on your own in the big wide scary world, as Dorothy once said, “There is no place like home”.

Does anyone remember the horses that came in the Cornflakes packs way back? From the comic strip “Raddish”, they had jointed legs and you could race them on a slanted track?

When I was a girl I wanted a horse. Parents said, “no you can’t”, of course,
“We’ve nowhere to keep it, we would be remiss. You’re not responsible”. They were united on this.
I begged and pleaded and cried a lot, and Raddish from the Cornflake pack I got.
Racing him down the track provided wasn’t the real thing, I decided.
Still I whinged and still I moaned, I wanted a real horse of my own.
To ride like the cowboys I saw on TV, on the Ponderosa with Li’l Joe I wanted to be.
“I’ll take me dog and run away”, I’d say. They are so cruel and they should pay.
And still I pleaded, cried and fretted – they’d be sorry and they’d regret it.
They’d realise that they were wrong when they found out later I was gone.
I had to wait till after tea; fed me dog and then fed me.
Rolled up my swag, all tied in a knot, and Laddie and I took off at a trot.
Off down the highway, the moon was so bright. Not a stir, not a car, only shadows in sight.
Neared the bridge over the railway track, there we stopped and had us a snack.
Was that the black panther just over the hill? We hardly breathed, we sat so still.
OK, trolls don’t really live under the bridge, and there is no gypsy camp up on the ridge.
I remembered the tale of the children they steal then stew in a pot to make a good meal.
And, were those three trolls waiting for us to cross? Oh my god Laddie, all this worry, for just a horse.
Oh for Christ’s sake, we’ve made a mistake,
Let’s wait till tomorrow and make us a plan. Yeah, that sounds good ol’ Laddie me man.
We streaked down the road like demons possessed. Scared witless – who would have guessed.
Puffing and panting, we got to the house, nobody saw us, not even a mouse.
I snuck inside and crept into bed and in the morning, nothing was said…

Did you ever try to run away when you were young? If so, why did you do it?