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.
Is the newly-found chivalry happening because of the new lady friend of his?
ReplyDeleteDid it make you want to plant a slobbery kiss on his cheek? Of course, that would be a sure fire way to prevent that behavior in the future.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI think it's because if I crack my head open on the pavement, he'll be stuck at school.
His lady, or "M'lady" as he refers to her (YES, HE DOES!) is all he really thinks about. This must have been a reflex action from some recessive gene.
*****
Kathy,
No, but I had a little tear in my eye, and extra spit to put on my thumb and dab at his face.