Forget those coal miners and their canary safety net! I have THE PONY!
He’s great for testing the air. And even for warning me when he is the one who has befouled it. Not so great as a food-taster. I fear I would be poisoned forthwith if I had to rely on him for that task. For that reason, I never accept treats offered by students. I’m not going to be on the news because somebody put too much pot in my brownie, or rushed to the hospital for an IV to cure my dehydration after being secretly dosed with Ex-Lax in homemade fudge. Also, I keep my personal Bubba cup of iced well water from the Mansion behind my control center, out of reach of student hands. Nobody’s putting Germ-X in MY beverage. No sirree, Bob!
The true PEOPLE-HELPING nature of The Pony came through Thursday morning, when we encountered sleet and snow on the way to Newmentia. I can’t believe we didn’t cancel school! What in the world were those bus-route test-drivers thinking? This is unheard of! SCHOOL? On a day with frozen precip falling? Anyhoo…
I had T-Hoe in 4WD the whole trip. Our county road was covered, the town road fairly clear, and then Newmentia town’s roads covered again. As soon as we hit those city limits, sleet began to freeze on T-Hoe’s windshield. Of course his wipers were recalcitrant, scraping ice drops across other ice drops.
We pulled onto the parking lot. “Oh. I’m glad some of that salt they spread the other day is still here. This blacktop looks slick. See it shine?”
The Pony got out. He rides behind me, you know. So he was on the same side of T-Hoe. We were parked in our usual spot, down at the end of the building, backed into our slot, facing downhill. The Pony usually grabs the keys, my school bag, and his lunch and heads for the door. “Hey Mom. This is not salt. This is sleet. It’s a little slippery here. I'll wait and make sure you get inside. You can hold onto my arm if you need to.”
Say it now. All together. “AWWWWW!”
That’s my little Pony. He’s awwwwwsome.