P is for Pony
I have a Pony Problem. Lately this place has been just lousy with ponies. They're everywhere. In the barn. In my paddock. In my way.
First there was Bubbles.
Her job is to babysit the yearling. Some days she likes me. Other days, she bites. She drew blood on my soft grey nose. She is moody and unpredictable. Therefore I regard her with caution.
The came Patriot. "Pat" for short. He is a dignified sort of fellow. I don't mind having him around. He's quiet and well behaved. He does not bite noses.
Patriot is a Hackney. Mom bought him to loan to the Amish children. But he didn't want to be an Amish pony, so he came here to live and everyone likes him.
The other day some little pink people came to visit. I'm afraid of little pink people. So they visited everyone but me! They petted the chickens, and the petted Face-Off. They did not pet ME!
Apparently Little Pink People are a pony specialty. Next thing I knew, the whole crowd was fading off into the distance with a pony!
All I could do was watch from my window. I called out. I banged on the wall. They just kept walking with that pony! Finally, they came back. Brita said that I would get a chance to show off. Finally! All the little pink people, and their chaperones, were cleared out of the way, and I entered the arena. I did my best to put on a show. I cantered in circles and spun around. I snorted a LOT. I did my best to show what a wild and powerful horse I can be. The comment I heard was that my performance was "intense". You bet! I am very impressive when I have an audience.
Brita got out my platform and showed them how I can get up on it and stand. I was wishing it were higher and fancier like a real circus horse would have.
After my performance I took a bow and everyone clapped and cheered. Let's see one of those little ponies do that.