Y’all might remember that I mentioned owning a horse and playing with the local mouser, an orange Tabby who lives next door to my horse Pita’s stall. Well yesterday Mr T (as I’ve taken to calling him) had the most amazing adventure. It was during a riding lesson. There were about seven riders in the indoor arena and the lesson was nearing its end. Time to “lope your horses” (this is Holland, but it’s a Western riding stables, so it’s real cowboy stuff). Mr T chose that moment to take a little stroll – right in the horses’ path. He sauntered, seemingly unperturbed, along the outside circuit, just where the horses tend to go, and scarcely glanced over his shoulder as hooves came thundering down upon him. He could have easily jumped up to the surrounding ledge and made his way safely across, but no: he wanted to stay on the sand. Everyone watched in fascinated horror as one horse, then another, then another deftly avoided him. Finally he got close to the door to the stalls and someone popped in quickly and tried to grab him, but he wasn’t having it. He turned tail (well, half a tail. He lost 50% of it somewhere along the line) and ran back, but she managed to catch him and tuck him safely out of sight. You could hear the entire stables breathe a collective sigh of relief. I’m now starting to understand the old adage about cats having nine lives. I figure he’s got 8 to go now!
.