Ask AI Equestrian Edition: The Great Thanksgiving Gelding Parade

We’re back at it! Asking AI to create humorous equestrian-related content we call all laugh at. This time, we’ve decided to ask AI to allow geldings to design a Thanksgiving parade.

If you thought the Sassy Mare Thanksgiving Parade was chaotic… buckle up.
Because it’s the geldings turn. They insisted they deserved their own parade — “for balance,” they said.

All AI-generated text replies are from ChatGPT.

Canva/CC

Here’s the prompt we gave AI: “Describe a Thanksgiving parade designed entirely by geldings.”

And…here’s what it came up with:

This is the official account of The First Annual Thanksgiving Gelding Parade — a parade that was never scheduled, never approved, and never meant to happen, yet somehow still did because one gelding saw a bucket and yelled, “FOLLOW ME!”

PREPARATION… SORT OF
Unlike the mares, who planned for weeks, the geldings made a plan that consisted of exactly three steps:

Find food.
Walk near the food.
Show off.
Their “parade committee” (a term used loosely) consisted of:

Biscuit: The self-appointed leader because he is the loudest.
Pumpkin: The one who actually knows things but nobody listens to.
Moose: The big, gentle one everyone assumes is in charge, even though he’s just there for snacks.
Cashew: The wildcard whose hobbies include bolting at shadows and eating things not meant to be eaten.
This was the core team.
It was not a good team.

THE FLOATS (BUILT BY ACCIDENT)
Geldings don’t “build” floats.
Geldings “discover” floats.

Here’s how their parade floats came to be:

Float #1: The Hay Wagon
This was not intended as a float. It was simply a wagon full of hay that Moose climbed onto and refused to get off of. Once he settled, the others declared it the “lead float” because Moose looked important and also because no one wanted to argue with someone that large.

Float #2: The Bucket Brigade
Cashew found a stack of empty feed buckets, knocked them over, stepped inside one, got stuck, dragged it 15 feet, and thus invented float #2. He wore that bucket like a saddlebag the entire parade.

Float #3: The Wheelbarrow of Destiny
Biscuit decided the wheelbarrow was “suspicious” and pushed it over. It landed upright. He rolled it forward with his face. Boom: float.

The mares watched from their pasture, horrified, whispering things like:

“Is that… on purpose?”
“Do they know what a parade IS?”
“Why is that one wearing a bucket?”

PARADE START (BY ACCIDENT)
The parade began when Biscuit heard the sound of someone opening a peppermints wrapper. He immediately pranced toward the noise like a majestic golden retriever in horse form.

The rest followed because:

They assumed Biscuit knew something important.
Following each other is literally 94% of gelding logic.
Thus, with no music, no order, and no control, the parade began.

THE MARCHING STYLE
“Chaotic neutral.”

That’s the only way to describe it.

Biscuit strutted in front, doing that dramatic prance geldings get when they think someone is watching — legs flying everywhere, neck arched, tail at half-mast like a fuzzy banner of uncertainty.

Pumpkin tried to maintain a straight line, but Moose’s hay wagon drifted diagonally like a shopping cart with a broken wheel. Cashew trotted proudly with his bucket stuck on his head like medieval armor.

The crowd loved it.

Not because it was good.
But because it was confusing.

INTERACTIONS WITH THE CROWD
Every child holding food instantly became a parade float. Biscuit stopped the procession at least four times to inspect sandwiches.

A toddler dropped a Cheeto. Moose left the parade entirely to secure the Cheeto. This caused a 12-minute delay while handlers attempted to rotate Moose back in the right direction, but Moose weighs approximately six men and a tractor, so this took time.

Cashew, meanwhile, approached a group of people holding balloons. He sniffed a balloon. It popped. He levitated. Then he calmly continued walking like nothing happened.

Classic gelding behavior.

THE TURKEY MOMENT
Just like the mares, the geldings encountered a turkey.

But their response was different.

The turkey strutted out into the street, gobbling like it owned the place.

Biscuit froze.
Pumpkin froze.
Cashew hid behind Pumpkin.
Moose stared at it with the unbothered confidence of a creature with no natural predators.

The turkey puffed up.

Biscuit panicked, performed a stunning 90-degree spin worthy of Olympic dressage, and announced:

“THE ROOSTER IS HUGE.”
Pumpkin calmly corrected him.

“That’s a turkey.”
Biscuit did not care.

They detoured around it.
The turkey was declared “unfriendly.”
The turkey did not care either.

THE FLOAT COLLISION
At the halfway point, Moose attempted a right turn but his hay wagon refused. Instead, it continued straight until it gently collided with the Wheelbarrow of Destiny.

The wheelbarrow tipped.
The hay wagon tipped.
Moose did NOT tip, but he did blink dramatically.

Cashew, thinking this was a game, ran circles around the crash site until he tripped over his own bucket and somersaulted into a pile of decorative pumpkins.

The crowd applauded.
The geldings bowed.
They believe this was intentional.

THE GRAND FINALE
The parade ended when Biscuit spotted a woman unwrapping what might have been a cookie.

He accelerated from Parade Mode to Racehorse Mode instantly, charging through the parade route like a caffeinated torpedo.

The other geldings followed, turning the final stretch of the parade into what can only be described as:

“The Thanksgiving Stampede of 2025 (Unofficial, Nobody Was Hurt, But The Wheelbarrow Is Dead)”

Handlers caught them at the end of the road.
Moose found another Cheeto.
Cashew finally lost his bucket.

Everyone clapped because they were relieved the chaos was over AND because the geldings looked proud of themselves.

POST-PARADE THOUGHTS
The geldings reviewed their performance as follows:

Biscuit: “10/10. I led. I was perfect.”
Pumpkin: “We could plan next year.”
Biscuit: “No.”
Moose: “Does anyone have snacks?”
Cashew: “Where is my bucket?”
The mares refused to comment.

FINAL VERDICT
The First Annual Thanksgiving Gelding Parade was:

Disorganized
Food-driven
Accidentally heroic
Definitely unsafe
Weirdly charming
And somehow… successful?
In the end, the geldings proved that you don’t need planning, precision, or even basic awareness to create a memorable parade.

You just need snacks, enthusiasm, and a bucket.