NEIGH-borhood Tales: Attack of the Ancient Pony – Cherokee

  Horses usually crave the companionship of other horses. Although I like having a friendly pasture mate, I don’t mind being alone. At least no one will steal my food, bite me, or chase me.  Poor Sonny always needs a buddy no matter where he is or what he’s doing. If Mom takes him out on a trail, I have to come along. If she brings him to a barn, I have to ride in the trailer with him. The first time she brought him down to her new ring—which was in sight of the barn—guess what? Yup. I had to tag along. Sometimes I get tired of being his  babysitter, but then I think, “I guess it’s worth coddling that big fat wimp for free room and board.” (Don’t worry; I love that big fat wimp.)

One day Mom’s daughter, Sara, invited a friend to meet us. This girl had obviously never seen a real horse and she thought we were all very scary—even little, old me. Sara opened my stall door and beckoned the girl to come in and pat me. The girl shook her head and said, “Uh, uh. I’ll stay here.” The smell of fear leaking out of her was making me very nervous. Did she see something scary in my stall?  I looked around anxiously to see if maybe there was a rattlesnake, a ghost, or a monster hiding in the corner.

Sara was stroking my coat when she felt a bump on my side, “Mom. Can you come here and look at this?” she asked. She wanted to make sure this bump wasn’t anything worse than a bug bit.

My stall door was wide open, but Mom didn’t bother to close it. She knew the girl was blocking my exit. Besides, she didn’t expect me to go anywhere. As Mom bent to get a closer look, I took one step forward, just to shift my balance.

“AHHHH!” screamed the girl. She leaped backwards like she’d just been stung by a swarm of hornets.

“Yikes! There must be something really awful in my stall to make her scream like that,” I thought.  I streaked out of the barn. (Wow! I didn’t know I could still run that fast! ) Watching me racing away, Sonny stuck his head out the window and screamed too. He thought I was leaving him alone to fight off all those non-existent boogey men he feared.

Of course I had no intention of running away from such a good home, but remember; I am a horse and horses instinctively run when they’re scared. As soon as I was far from whatever horrible monster was hiding in my stall, I stopped to nibble on a thick patch of grass. Mom caught me, draped a lead line around my neck and said, “Come on, Care Bear. Back into the barn. I’m sorry she scared you, but she thought you were going to attack her.”

Adam Stone

Adam has worked in the local news industry for the past two decades in Westchester County and the broader Hudson Valley. Read more from Adam’s author bio here.