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O kay, I’ll admit it: horses make me nervous.
Maybe nervous isn’t the right word; I don’t quite trust them.
It’s not that they are untrustworthy, I admire horses greatly. Maybe I mean to say that I don’t have any confidence in my ability to hold up my end of the relationship.
Horses are smart, and horses are big, and I don’t understand why on earth a horse should listen to me. If the horse wants to zig when I ask it to zag, or it wants to eat my hat, or stand on my head, what the hell can I do about it? Nothing.
Whenever I look a horse in the eye, I get this eerie feeling that we’re on the cusp of an equine revolution. Sort of a “Planet of the Horses” where they finally figure out we’re powerless over them.
And before you know it, they’re riding us while they smoke cigars, and every second one is named “Cornelius” or “Caesar”.
Well, maybe not that far, but still…