That Darn jack ass

Those days were carefree and innocent, unaware of political issues, unaware of the strains of adult life, and living each day to its fullest. The only things I had to worry about was getting my chores done and deciding who to hang out with that day. I was the one in the crowd who everyone loved to make fun of - I suppose the story I'm about to tell is one of those reasons. If something was going to happen to someone that would get everyone laughing and talking, it was me.

The day was bright and sunny and the aroma of mulberry jam that my mom was making filled the house, as I anxiously stepped out the door. I ran under the mulberry tree turning the bottom of my feet purple with out a care, across the lawn, and on to the street, running to Toni Brook's house. Toni and I were called the Bopsy twins, although we were complete opposites, because we did everything together. Where she went I went, where I went she went - that sort of thing. As we talked about our daily plans we noticed the blond hair long legged boy across the street. Clark was his name. He was heading to Bret Lyman's house to ride Bret's Shetland Pony. He asked us if we wanted to come along. Of course we were the type to never let any adventure slip by us, so we agreed to go.

By the time we got to Bret's house which was only three blocks away, Bret was riding the stubborn mule in his back yard. I noticed right away that this pony was not going to be a picnic to ride - it headed into the barn where we spent many hours jumping off the hay stacks. It's a wonder no one ever got hurt.

My mind went back for a moment remembering my last experience on a Shetland Pony. My uncle Legrand, who lived in Plain City, had a pony and I was not aware of their temperament. I took off on the pony one day thinking it would be like riding a horse. Instead I had a crash course of learning that these animals have a mind of their own. I had ridden that darn thing only a block and a half from home, when suddenly it turned around so quickly I lost my balance nearly falling off. He took off in a dead run while I was hanging on for dear life to its mane. Not using a saddle I used every muscle in my legs to keep from falling off. Around the corner he flew and homeward bound he knew exactly where he was going. You can only imagine the sight when he jumped over the little white pecked fence, through the narrow gate, and into an even narrower door, that went into the barn. My uncle was chasing after me yelling something, I couldn't understand him, all I knew was my legs were bleeding and scratched up pretty bad and I had hit my head as the pony made a tight turn when we went into the barn.

So now, here I was again with my friends trying to talk me into getting on the pony. I explained to them that I didn't think I should get on him. They just acted as if I hadn't said much as all four of us headed back to the fields across the street from Toni's house, Bret riding the pony while the rest of us walked. There are houses, where the huge field used to be, and there was one little house across from Clark's house and a cloths line where a road exists now.

Everyone started taking a turn driving the pony - that was Toni's way of saying riding. I was perfectly happy watching them as they rode the pony across the field and back. Finally the moment came that I hoped I could avoid. "It's your turn Jeri," The words flung into my head as I tried to pretend I was just hearing things. But it wasn't my imagination, it was all too real, and the persuasion was much too powerful for my timid personality. How could I let them know that I was scared anyway. So Bret helped me onto the pony on the street next to Clark's house. Off we went and that pony was running fast. While the pony was running all I could do was hold on as I looked up and saw that the pony was heading straight for the cloths line which was level to my neck. I tried to turn him but he wouldn't turn, I pulled on the reigns but he wouldn't stop. As we approached the cloths line I knew I better do something fast so I ducked just in the nick of time, and hung on for dear life to his mane. De Ja Vu hit me like a ton of bricks as Bret and Clark started chasing after me to try and get the pony stopped. Everyone was yelling something at me but I couldn't tell what they were saying, when finally that darn animal decided to stop. The only injuries were my wobbling legs and hurt pride that I simply did not know how to control that darned jack ass. From that day to the present I call pony's "jack asses" with out a capital.