My Little Pony

By Jim Hagarty

We have our share of pub problems here in Canada. Underage kids sneaking in and getting loaded. Bar owners serving drinks to people who are already drunk. Fights breaking out left, right and centre.

But generally, our pub issues are with humans.

Not so in England where they are far too casual about things. Sometimes, for example, they will leave their back door open. And problems have a way of wandering in.

This week, a Shetland pony walked through the back door into a pub and, being thirsty, made directly for some stray beer glasses on the tables which he proceeded to empty. The animal’s name is Mocha and he loves him some beer. He is not a stranger. He also likes apple cider.

The pub owner knows his freeloader well.

“He is not a big drinker, but he does walk around like he’s a bit drunk. But he is very friendly and likes meeting new things and people,” the owner said. He managed to coax Mocha out of the pub using traditional Shetland pony lures like carrots, potato chips and deep-friend pork rinds.

But the other pub patrons and the journalist who wrote the story about Mocha have no heart.

The writer, for example, declared that Mocha better pony up for those drinks. He also actually wrote that he was horsing around too much. And he had the nerve to describe the whole affair as an “unsaddling” incident.

The patrons weren’t much better.

“Perhaps it was only looking for a little ‘horse-pitality’”, they suggested.

“I think it has a sore throat,” said one barfly. “It’s a little hoarse.”

His latest pub crawl was Mocha’s second.

Internet video, documentary and book tour just have to be on their way.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.