Shetland Pony Arrested

Growing up I was horse crazy. The key word here is horse and not pony. When my brother was old enough to sit in a saddle he was given a Shetland Pony, and what a character that pony was. He was an accomplished escape artist. He could get out of any stall or pasture given enough time.

One beautiful sunny day, the sheriff telephoned and asked if we had a pony fitting the description of William's pony. He then asked if the pony was in the pasture. I checked and sure enough he was missing--again.

I was informed by the sheriff that the last time the pony was seen he was walking down the hallway in the Banks County Courthouse! I was mortified. William was too young to be sent to fetch the pony, and I was so embarrassed. I talked my best friend's little sister into going with me to get the pony. We found him tied to a tree in the front of the old jail. How appropriate for such a troublemaker.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

In the early 1980's I made a farm call down in Banks County to doctor a sick cow. It was late at night, and the cow was down. I treated her and did everything possible to make her comfortable in hopes of her being able to get up in the next few hours. Instructions were given to the cattleman, and the veterinary bill settled.

Larry, the cattleman, backed up a little, cocked his head from side to side, and seriously eyed the cow. I was getting very curious about what was going on when he announced, "That's not my cow. She's not my cow."

He was extremely miffed that his neighbor's cow had stolen into his pasture, and now he had paid to treat her. Twenty plus years later, each time I run into Larry, I always work the conversation around to that cow.