Oona rode Cowgirl to school this morning. Oona is a senior at Gunn. (Today was her second to last day of classes.) Really we just rode up the bike path next to Bol park and up to the intersection of Miranda and Arastradero, which is “right next to the science building”. We would have had to wake up way too early to have done otherwise.
I think Oona would have preferred to ride a horse, not a pony, but Oona weighs about five pounds and I do not meaning Oona rides the pony and I (plus Oona’s forty pound back pack) rode Stoney. She almost backed out last night. She was genuinely afraid we’d get arrested. Her father talked her into it. I think it would have been a mistake not to. After all, fundamentally, horses are about transportation; getting from point A to point B. The daily commute to school has been a monotonous chore. Riding the horse connects her routine life to a profound and extraordinary endeavor (riding horses). There is something deeply satisfying about the act.
Unfortunately, no one documented the event and, because we took the back route, no one from Gunn saw her arrive. In fact, though we were passed by dozens of walkers and bikers, no one seemed to take much notice at all. The only person who took note was ten year-old (?) African American boy who stopped in his tracks and gasped in awe and wonder (and had we been going the same direction, I would have taken the bike and put him on the horse).
We did, also, pass the donkeys, who live next to Bol park. Last time we passed the donkeys (last December), Stoney pitched a fit. On the way to Gunn this morning, he only stopped to look sideways at them for a moment. On the way back, he definitely wanted to say hello. The smaller of the two donkeys returned Stoney’s query by reaching her neck as far as she could through the gate and proceeding to lick and nibble Stoney’s nose. She would have kept at it indefinitely, but I had a manure bin to empty and the ponies had yet to eat breakfast. It was my impression that her behavior took him very much by surprise. With two bridles, three lead ropes (one for Dante the dog) and a plastic bag (with poop) in my hands, snapping a photo was not an option. But what I wouldn’t give for a picture of Stoney being french kissed by a donkey!

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