By Bob Goddard
The sight of horses in places where horses are not normally seen can cause great excitement:
“Look, Mommy! A horse!”
“I see him honey. But I’m not sure he belongs in the mall. I think he’s lost.”
“Why Mommy?”
“Well sweetie, he’s taking the escalator to the second floor. That’s the automotive department.”
“Can I have one Mommy?”
While everyone knows that horses belong in the country, there are exceptions.
Take parades, for example. Or romantic open carriage rides. City police departments occasionally have an equestrian unit. What could be more proper and legal than an officer of the law on a horse?
Another way horses are found in urban areas is by virtue of the grand-fathered farm. While grand-fathered status allows people to keep horses on their property, they are still obliged to follow all other local ordinances.
This often leaves little or no place to ride. Those who refuse to accept this inconvenience are called Urban Riders.
The most notorious Urban Riders I’ve ever known were two of my daughter’s friends, Anna and Andrea. For this pair, the city offered a multitude of trail riding opportunities.
They reasoned that unless it was specifically posted that horses were not allowed in an area, it was okay to ride. This kind of logic requires not only a scofflaw attitude, but also a rigorous rejection of common sense. That was not a problem.
One big advantage that Anna and Andrea do have over normal trail riders is access to plenty of fast food places. Managing to find a great meal in the city while on horseback is not as difficult as it sounds. All you have to do is use the drive-up window.
Warning: just because you are riding a horse does not mean you always get to go first! People in cars would just as soon run you over rather than wait an extra 60 seconds. Urban Riders have to stand in line like everybody else.
As veteran Urban Riders, Anna and Andrea knew they had to wait their turn. They could hear the customer in front of them place his order: “I’d like a double cheeseburger, large fries … there are horses behind me … and a root beer.”
“Would you like that super-sized, sir?”
The girls probably would have got away with this stunt had Andrea’s horse not pooped in line. That couldn’t have been good for business. And, as this sort of thing often does, it drew the attention of the evening manager.
The evening manager threatened to call the police if the girls didn’t get the mess cleaned up and leave immediately. I’m not sure how they could have physically done both.
In any case, the thought of explaining this to the young cop made the girls laugh. This made the manager even angrier and he snarled something about prosecuting the pair. It took all they had just to stay in their saddles. But they were able to get the mess cleaned up anyway.
On their next visit (horseless) to the fast food place, the girls noticed a “No Horses” sign posted on the drive-up menu. I’m sure most customers had always assumed this was the case.
Every sign has a story behind it and seeing this one gave Anna and Andrea a sense of accomplishment.
