That was always one of my sons’ favorite books for me to read to them at bedtime. I still have it in the bedroom that was their first. I really enjoyed listening to DJ Don this morning as he talked about a buffalo attacking a car! I went online and looked up the video via youtube. They did look a tad wild too as they began running toward the tourists. It reminded me of the time we took our three sons to Lion Country Safari in Florida where we could mingle around all kinds of animals. As we slowly drove down the designated path, a giraffe came up, stuck his head in the window and checked out the humans. I’m not sure if he was looking for a snack or a pet but we kept our hands to ourselves, and in just a minute or so he moved on to the next vehicle. Another time we were at Wild Country Safari in Georgia and my daughter Sam, in her pre-teen years opted to ride an elephant, which was allowed at that time. I heard a few months later that the elephant she had ridden, had gone berserk and hurt the one riding on his back. It was scary to think that we’d let our dear ride a creature that later became a wild thing.

  Growing up in Jackson, Georgia, I was allowed to ride a horse and a Shetland pony any time I wanted to stop by the owners’ houses. I would saddle the horse, and around and around the pasture we’d ride until I thought he’d had enough exercise. Back to the barn and I’d remove the saddle, brush him down and then top off his water and feed before letting myself out and locking the gate. He was always very glad to see me and happy to romp and run full speed ahead! The Shetland pony lived on the same street we did and so it was more convenient to ride him.  But, he had a bit of an attitude sometimes. The first times I tried to ride him, he breathed very hard and then when I put my foot in the stirrup and started to climb on, he exhaled and the saddle slipped off, taking me to the ground with it. I caught on to what he was doing and I’d just wait until he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, then I’d hop in the saddle. One time as I started to hop on, he put his hoof on my foot, and wouldn’t set me free, for maybe ten minutes. Okay, I got the message, he wasn’t that excited about our weekly rides. I guess there was something still a little wild in his spirit?

  I would go to my great-grandfather’s store on Wednesdays and ask him which of the horses waiting to be sold was okay to ride. He’d let me know and I’d get another few minutes of fun as I circled the big corral on the agreeable horse. I rode them with no saddle, but that never bothered me. I had a best friend across the road from our home on Indian Springs Street who had a mule.  Well, I’d hop on the mule, take hold of the reins (again no saddle) and we’d start across their pasture. But sometimes the mule would stop and refuse to move again. I find it interesting that I’d always heard they were stubborn and that mule proved it to be true! He did the plowing for them when it was time to plant their spring garden and he always kept a move on for the adults in charge though. 

  Now the only wild things I see around Henry Street are geese. This was a neat trip back in time, again.