Was visiting a friend in California. She and I went to Santa Catalina Island for a few days. There were no cars allowed on Catalina- horses, golf carts or feet to get you where you want to go. .We rented two ponies to have a leisurely ride thru the mountains. I was given the "Gentlest" horse they had. "Butterball" was it's name. We did fine going up the mountain. We passed Zane Greys Home-now our motel & then started down. Growing along the outside of the bridle path (The outside being the unsafe side where the earth would fall away as the hoofs trod on it) were little purple flowers which my horse thought a delicasy not to be missed. He did not miss one flower--I was no longer quietly enjoying the ride. I did a bit of screaming as we neared the outer edge so he could chew on these darn flowers.

About half way down I decided to get off. I was so sure I'd end up dead at the bottom of the cliff. I had visions of my little Irish mom crossing the country to identify my body. I could hear her say--"Yes, that's my Mickey--- She was a good girl.' When I got off-Butterball started to trot down the mountain. I'm in open toed sandals running after him-Trying to hold on to the reins. Of course I couldn't. Wearing only sandals-I suddenly became aware of vast amounts of horse shit oozing between my toes. Sorry!   But truth is truth & horse feces doesn't cut it!

The horse, of course, was heading home. I didn't have enough sense to know that--otherwise I would not have run after him. (Was afraid I'd get charged for the missing horse.)

This was my second horse adventure-the other was on the Bronx River Pkwy in NY--Almost got killed. I've taken the pledge. Some pledge off booze, some cigarettes...I pledged off horsies. Cause the third time will be a killer!

Anyone have a harrowing vacation tale?