Thursday, February 2, 2012

Who the Hell Shoots a Horse?

Each afternoon, I have had the pleasure of being distracted by two gentle equine creatures that grazed in a small pasture while I waited in what seemed like the longest carpool line in history. The horses were a great distraction for my daughter, and we even gave them names, Strawberry Shortcake and Buzz. As you can guess, the children choose those names, and were particularly fond of them. Upon returning from Christmas break, this sign was hanging where the horses normally nibbled on grass and feed. The first thing to go through my mind was, who the hell would shoot a horse? Second was that I hoped my son would not read it before I got a chance to come up with a lesson about who the hell would shoot a horse. Naturally, my seven-year-old son (who cries anytime Sarah McLachlan starts crooning during the Humane Society commercials) read the banner before I had the time or answers on hot standby. Halfway through reading, his voice began to crack. So here is the story that I whipped up to keep him from suffering from depression over the next week. You see honey, that horse wasn’t entirely 100% horse. It was actually part human, from the land of Skeletor. One day Braeburn got angry that they weren’t sharing their apples with the whole gang. So, He-Man showed up with She-Ra and they turned the horses into part humans and because they were human that made them very flawed and they brought a gun with them to persuade the Skeletor creatures to share. The gun went off during the half-hoofed struggle. Buzz and Strawberry Shortcake were taken to the hospital and found a safer home. My son wasn’t buying it, so I sold him on the little white lie that the horses were in heaven or here. Either way, they are better off not being part human.

2 comments:

Des said...

I agree with you...who the hell would shoot a horse? Great thinking on your part on the special story.

life as I know said...

That is terrible. There are some very sick individuals in the world, but its good to know your children are sympathetic enough to care about the plight of the horses.