If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like in the mind of a pony, wonder no more. You’ll get to read the hilarious inner workings of a sassy and opinionated POA named Pony.
Beta Human brought me in today. It’s always such a dilemma. I want to eat, but I don’t want to be caught. Usually my desire for freedom outweighs my desire for food. They give me such pittance anyway. I can smell the molasses and sweetness of the other horses’ feed. Yet here I am, barely two cups of these cardboard pellets.
In a moment of mercy I now fiercely regret, I allowed myself to be caught. I had second thoughts, but by the time I changed my mind, Beta Human had closed the gate to freedom. I finished eating ages ago, but there she sits — across from my stall, on her electronic device, not a care in the world. I am ready to go out.
I will stare at her spitefully while I pee in my stall. Twice. When that doesn’t work — as it surely won’t — I will continue to stare spitefully while I poop repeatedly. If nothing else, I have the satisfaction of knowing she must clean up my droppings once she finally deigns to let me out.
I will need to think of new, creative ways to avoid capture. Perhaps I will herd the other mare in circles around the field. That has worked in the past.
Till next time, Diary.
Pony (yes, that is my name — don’t get me started)