Take your medicine, Gladys. I don’t see any horses.

Folks were flush with postwar cash in 1946, and they were asked what they would like to splurge on. This little girl wants a horse in the worst way, and it looks like that’s how she will get it.

Magazine feature about postwar wishes
Nix the whinnying, Chocolate Hay. Mr. Wilson will hear you!

I think this has the makings of a sitcom, trying to hide this steed from her parents, and from the neighbors who are the unwitting hosts, and maybe an inept animal control officer, The horse talks but keeps calling her Wilbur.


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