Friday, March 21, 2014
A tale about a pony
Rather, this is a tale about how I was the only one up one morning. About how I put on my shoes and coat and headed out to take my dogs for a walk. It was quiet. My breath hung in the cold, damp air. It's the same dog walk route every day but there was nothing ordinary about this walk. About halfway out, I turned to see a pony running up the road. I saw it before my dogs did but they alerted and chased and barked. And I stood stunned for a moment before hightailing it home.
I threw open the back door and hollered, "Grab some carrots, apples and a dog leash! Now! Meet me outside! Hurry!"
We drove up and down our rambling country streets. We talked to neighbors and I stared accusingly at more than one dog. Then we saw him. Standing outside the horse pasture of a lone horse. My girls slipped silently out of the car and approached the pony carefully, sweetly, alertly, gently, knowingly. I talked to neighbors, went home and made some phone calls and grabbed my camera of course.
The pony is now living with this big guy named Texas. The owners still haven't been found.
Or perhaps they actually have. Something tells me this story isn't over.