Disclaimer: No Shetland Ponies were harmed in the making of this article. Well, at least only a bit.
Shetland Ponies are so cute. Their gorgeous, yet strangely woe-is-me little faces and strange wispy hair. Their short legs. Their passive, gentle, child friendly personality. Well that was what I used to think, until I ran in to one. And I do mean quite literally. I was running through a field after being chased by a stag at night (I was trying to get a close-up of his antlers) when I smacked in to this Shetland.
At first I thought I’d hit a really wide human-being who was wearing a fur coat. Then I realized that the kind of hair couldn’t be from a fur-coat; not only that but the thing had a massive head much bigger than anyone bar Morrissey and his chin could have. Then it neighed and I neighed back. The stag had gone, fortunately, and so I said, “Hello there little Shetland Pony, how are you?”
He—and I can assure you that it was a HE—neighed again, and this time he raised his front arm. I took this to mean he wanted to shake hands, so I knelt down and shook his hoof. That was when he flipped out, twisting around and hoofing me in the face. I stepped back, bemused, and wondered what I’d ever done to him.
I may have said, “what have I ever done to you apart from love you and your species, you bloody Shetland!” Or I may not. He had broken my nose and blood was pouring out. I imagined getting home to discover a hoof-shape marked burned in to my face, thanks to the moody so called cute one.
He didn’t give me an answer so I kicked him. Right in the rump of his big furry bum. He didn’t much like this, but fair is fair and what can I say, he should have just gotten horse insurance!
