I used to have one of the Gwarcoed Welsh Cobs, Josey Wales. I bought him as a yearling and trained him for farmwork, but he was sold before we emigrated. He became my son's pony after old Jenny died and I offered him a choice of either Joe or Mari, my riding Arab.
"Why did Jenny die?" he asked me.
"Because she was so old." I told him.
"How old is Joe?"
"How old is Mari?"
"I'll take Joe!"
Boys can be so much more rational with horses than girls usually are...
I don't have any photos of Joe when he was with me, but here's one of him doing slightly fancier stuff than he used to with me!
I do have one of his playmate, Toby, at aged three having his first go in the hayrake.
It's quite interesting comparing the way they are moving in those two photos - Joe, who was fully trained by then, is confident, eyes and ears looking forward, neck arched, reaching forward with his feet. Toby, who was still very much a novice and not at all sure of the heavy, clunky, and incredibly noisy contraption he was dragging around, has head lifted up with no arch at all in his neck, eyes and ears focused on that iron monster behind him, a lot of tension showing in his upper lip, tail clamped down and making rather short, stifled steps.
I have one somewhere of his mother in the farm cart collecting wood. I'll see if I can dig it out.