Homepage / Humor / Lunch Break: Why Horse Cousins are Creepy
Slipstreaming to an Executive Lunch Joys and Sorrows Hey, Lady — Need Some Relief? Floating Be The Bigger Mouse Who You Wit? Purge and Put the Kettle On Sleepy-Eyed Sister Sort of Monday When Being Called Normal becomes a Compliment, Or, Relationship Advice from the Street Tug-of-War, or, When a Story is Only Interesting to You Weather Pains How Love Works Probably Legally Insane Don’t Call Me Late When Business Communication Goes Pffft! Or, How I’ve Been Insane for Two Months and Counting Don’t Eat That! or, Life as a Pet Parent In Dreams It’s the End of … Almost Like the Real Thing Plus a Lesson in Sacred Spaces What Goes Down Must Come Up Dreams Do Come True Gains and Losses Need to Invest? I’ve Got the Perfect Thing … Very Super-suspicious, Pt. 2 – One Day’s Journey Very Super-suspicious, Pt. 1 – A Dr. Seuss Epiphany Life Is Hard Sometimes #TBT: These Days, I am Only Part Throw-Back Has Anyone Told You Lately … Life’s New Groove I Don’t Share  Purging Past and Current Pains Demolishing ‘Beatriz at Dinner’ The Hump is Hell Book Review: The Dragon with a Chocolate Heart Disaster Averted or How My Blog Imploded For a Minute Negative much? Tides of Winter: Book Three (The Felix Chronicles) A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Amazon … Research about the US Presidential Election: Invite and Share! It’s a Birthday and More, 2017 And the Winner Is … On the Upcoming US Presidential Inauguration Contest time! A (Potentially Lengthy) Missive on a Problem with Today’s Christian Church Pros and Cons of Working from Home Cozy Comforts How You Doin’, 2017? Deblog 31: Change Deblog 30: My Way Deblog 29: Hip City Life Revisited Deblog 28: A Moment of Clarity Deblog 27: The Future Deblog 26: Grammar the Day After Deblog 25: Christmas Get-Down Deblog 24: Christmas Hippo! Deblog 23: The Worst Job in the World Deblog 22: Dark Spaces Deblog 21: Real-Life Parenting at Christmas Deblog 20: It Came In the Wind Deblog 19: Do Me a Solid Deblog 18: Another Un-Birthday Deblog 17: Differences Deblog 16: On Giving Deblog 15: A Good Time Deblog 14: Happy Feelin’s. No, Really. Deblog 13: About Relationships, or Why No One is a Plow Horse Deblog 12: About Practical Girls, or Why I Cried While Watching ‘Through the Looking Glass’ Deblog 11: About Girlie Girl Princesses, or Why They Can Never Be Queens Deblog 10: Leadership Deblog 9: What Is Love, Anyway? Deblog 8: Happy Deblog 7: Thing’s Internet Deblog 6: Heaven Deblog 5: Change Deblog 4: Nick Hood’s Story Deblog 3: Jeeves Deblog 2: Exile Island Deblog 1: December is Full of Blogidays Plovember 30: And There You Have It Plovember 29: Citizens United Plovember 28: Another Brilliant Idea Plovember 27: Revolt Plovember 26: Outrageous Plovember 25: Figment Plovember 24: All Over Again Plovember 23: Quantum Argument Plovember 22: Every Kind of People Plovember 21: I Look Fear in the Face and Say … Plovember 20: What ‘Unfriend’ Means Plovember 19: Irregular Woman Plovember 18: My Reality Plovember 17: When the Monsters Inside Your Head are Real Plovember 16: Wild Heartbreak Plovember 15: I Nearly Quit Plovember 14: Nerd Life Plovember 13: It Was A Day Unlike Any … Wait A Minute. Plovember 12: It’s A Matter of Faith Plovember 11: Simply Wild Plovember Extra, Day Two! The Alien Hour, Part Two! Plovember 10: Look at California


Lunch Break: Why Horse Cousins are Creepy

Soooo … this post is the result of a (thus far) brief Facebook discussion with my sister blogger, Ra, on Ewoks. In case you can’t get to the post, she shared the news that people are now able to build an Ewok at Build-a-Bear, at which point I responded that Ewoks give me nightmares. Our exchange went to the fact that I don’t think they are the cause-one-to-take-flight-while-screaming sort of nightmare but that they are creepy because they are too nice and cause suspicion. Ra then mentioned horses, which reminded me of a pony incident.

Get it?

The point I made was that all members of the Equidae family should make a person pause because horses, particularly their smaller yet fiestier cousins — ponies — are especially problematic. Maybe it’s a Napoleon Complex, but I would suggest that ponies are much snortier, bitier, and kickier than their larger family members.

I’m a pony and I’m angry. Image courtesy weheartit

See what I mean? He’s about as tall as the bottom of my rib cage but looks meaner than the average Tasmanian Devil.

Sure, I’m a carnivorous marsupial, but look how cute I am! Nothing like that mean ol’ pony… Image courtesy of The Tazmanian Devil Unzoo

To my point, a story. Disclaimer: this story will involve a campaign against summer camp. You have been warned.

Leave us return to many years in the past, when a certain young writer was … well … young. Her parents felt she needed engagement with others her age during the summer, despite her many protestations to the contrary. That is what the school year was for, she often argued. Yet the parents were convinced about summer camp. They sent her off to Girl Scout camp one year (disaster that included many letters with the words ‘Save Me’ in various watercolors and that culminated in a no-bath protest; had it not been risking child abuse charges, they probably would have tied her to the top of the car for the ride home to avoid the stench) and a general camp the next summer that included horseback riding (also a disaster as outlined below).

The first issue was the outdoor everything. Latrines (don’t care how ‘nice’ someone says an outdoor bathroom is — if light and dirt can be seen from beneath the edges of the doors and walls, even if the floor under the comode is cement, it’s outside and that’s a problem). Okay, call me spoiled, but I have lived my entire life in a First World nation. I own that. Sorry. My formative years were spent in Southern New Jersey, where gnats, flies, mosquitoes, ants, hornets, crickets, mice, snakes, worms, and all other assundry outdoor creatures exist. I had no desire, beyond the the rare exploration to confirm how much I disliked said creatures, to sleep in ‘the wild.’ The tents at the camp were similar. Did I mention I don’t ‘camp’ unless it’s a motel or in an RV? Yep, it’s like that. Don’t judge.

But I digress. Horses were to be one of the highlights of this camp. I liked the idea at first because I had planned a great escape: learn how to ride well, take off at a gallop, and ride that baby all the way back home. Brilliant!

However, the horses at the camp were brainwashed. They stayed on the track and went back to the stables. That was it. No interest in taking the path not at all traveled less traveled. No great escape.

As if that wasn’t injury enough, we not only had to saddle and ride the beasts but we had to clean up after them.

Now I had been on yard duty for my dogs for quite some time, but nothing prepared me for horse manure. I knew they ate hay but what it turned into during the so-called digestive process was something completely different. Well, not exactly. hay-filled mud balls dropped on hay piles was simply a surprise. Again, don’t judge.

On a particularly rotten day (they were all rotten by this time, which was about two and a half days in), I was assigned clean-up duty for a particular pony. I thought he was cute and told him so as I entered the stall, which was only about six inches wider on either side than he was. That should have been a clue. I patted him and cooed at him as I brushed him. I took the hoof pick and began the rounds. I followed the instructions and when I was about to go for the last hoof, he stepped on me. Hard.

I reacted by giving him a good shove, right in the side, as I yelled, ‘Get off!’ or something equally as effervescent. He slammed into the opposite stall wall and I dashed out to examine my no way it couldn’t be crushed foot. Someone — most likely one of the jailers camp counselors came running and examined me, finding nothing broken. I’m still not convinced and the incident is probably why I have flat feet. Sure, the pony only stepped on one, but the other arch had to drop in solidarity, right? Okay, maybe not.

Due to the clouds of time, I might have my two camp experiences mixed up. However, the experiences related here were real and my descriptions of reactions are as close to what happened as I can remember. If you call my mother and ask, I know she would start laughing right away and confirm these tales of woe.

And there you have it, the story behind the creepy horse cousin. Is it a stereotype to suggest that all members of the Equidae family are creepy? Perhaps. But I doubt it.


Hi! I'm an Orohippus, an extinct Horse Cousin. Image courtesy The Equinest

Hi! I’m an Orohippus, an extinct Horse Cousin. Image courtesy The Equinest

Might it also be a stereotype to label all camps as creepy? Perhaps, but again, I think not.

The only camp where cool rules is one where the Addams Family is in attendance. Image courtesy The Independent

The only camp where cool rules is one where the Addams Family is in attendance. Image courtesy The Independent

Now, back to work. Or your regularly scheduled programming. Or whatever you were doing before you followed me down this rabbit trail. Oh, wait! In case you were wondering, here’s your Ewok:

'I'm your Ewok and I'm not creepy' (said in the same voice as Talky Tina from the Twilight Zone). Image courtesy Comicbook.com

‘I’m your Ewok and I’m not creepy’ (said in the same voice as Talky Tina from the Twilight Zone). Image courtesy Comicbook.com

And it will probably offer an experience like this:

You’re welcome.



  1. Lyn April 11, 2016 6:18 pm

    School camp here in Oz is held during school term and is part of the curriculum. I never went because they didn’t bring them in until after I’d left school. I did go to Teen Ranch (http://www.teenranch.com.au/) one year during the summer school holidays when I was 13/14 and couldn’t get enough of it. I’d go back in a flash if I had the chance 🙂

    • AR Neal April 11, 2016 6:30 pm

      Oh, bless you, my sister. I couldn’t stand camp! I am sure a huge part of the issue is that I guess I struggle to follow rules 🙁 Hence why I never joined a military branch 😉

      • Lyn April 12, 2016 4:57 am

        Ha! I think you’d probably set a record for the greatest amount of time spent in the brig? 😀

        • AR Neal April 12, 2016 6:07 am

          For sure!

%d bloggers like this: