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Writer's pictureLynn DeLong

Pony Vs. Nature



Hmm, movement. It intrigues me. There is something making the tall grasses move. I creep closer, my tail swishing. The grass pokes my belly as I crouch down.

More movement. A shadow catches my eye. I hear a loud raucous call. A gray and white bird swoops down at me, screaming.

“My babies!”

“I’m not after your babies.” I called back. She didn’t listen.

“My babies!” She called again as she dived.

I retreated to the safety of the porch. “Look, I’m going away. I don’t want your babies.”

“My Babies!” The neurotic bird dived again, right as I made it to the porch.

Curling up in a chair, I keep one eye on the grass; and one on the bird now perched on the fence, still crying about her babies. Blue Jays are the worst.



I must have dozed off. When I open my eyes again it’s late. Time for my rounds. First to the neighbor’s house to torment the mini-mop. Although both of the mops have lost their shagginess. The mini-mop deserves to be watched, and tormented. He yells at me all the time.

After watching him for a bit, I head out to inspect the newest neighbors.

I had watched them move in, gray and fluffy. Their biped had longer hair than mine, but he was still bare where it mattered, like all the rest.

I creep onto the porch. I couldn’t smell them. Waiting by the glass, I watch for them. Finally, I see one stroll by. She must be inspecting the place. I could hear her yell of complaint upon seeing me on *her* porch. Fuzzy feet shuffle into view. The biped picked her up, and another gray fluffy cat came into the space.

The feet shuffled closer and closer to the glass. The darkness helped hide me, but not enough. I had to get away. I hightailed it out of there before I could be spotted. But I’ll be back. They seem interesting.


Back home I try to get in, but the bipeds had the door locked. All because I brought them a bunny in the middle of the night. I thought they’d enjoy the treat.

I looked around. The porch was too exposed for full sleep. I’d have to sleep under the shed again. I slowly picked my way across the dark lawn, and around the corner of the shed. There. A perfectly sized opening.

I was up and waiting for the flap of the door to open the next morning. The skinny mop came barreling out, and I crept in. A biped was in the kitchen. I rubbed against her ankles.

“Not now Pony, it’s too early.”

I mewled in frustration. When the biped left the kitchen, I followed. She sat on the soft couch, and I leapt up beside her. She absentmindedly stroked me, while the mop watched with jealous eyes.

“Come on Toby, I have two hands. I can pet you both.”

The mop wagged his tail and crept closer. I flopped on my side atop the couch while the biped rubbed my belly. The mop stayed on the floor, getting head pets.

My ears pricked. A noise from the back? I know he is more open to my requests. I jumped off the couch and strolled down the hall. The mop followed.

“Ah, figures.” The biped sighed. “I bring them home, but they’re hubby’s at heart.”



I glance back at her, the grin on her face was quickly replaced by a frown. I readjusted my position in front of the door and waited. It took forever, but I finally heard the click of the knob, and the squeak of the other door to the room open. I raced down the hall and through the kitchen. Purring and pushing my head against the door.

“Ok, silly girl.” The deep sleepy baritone voice rumbled in my ears.

After he fed me breakfast, and I ignored it to take inside naps; I moved outside for a change of pace. And I needed to keep an eye on things. Between naps that is.


Later on I was startled awake. Invaders. Black mask wearing, ring-tailed, fluffy invaders. Double my size. I watched warily. Luckily they stayed at the far end of the yard, using the passageway in my yard as a highway to the sewers. I’d been down there before. Not my plate of fish, if you know what I mean. On the other side of the yard, however, was something that had my mouth watering. I sat up and stared, following the rabbit’s movement. Until I was rudely yanked into the air and brought inside.

“No! Let me out!” I yowled in frustration.

“Nope, I am sick of hiding the bodies.”

“But, but, bunny.”

“No going outside!”

I walked away, luckily she had forgot to lock the door. I was back outside in a flash. Until it happened again. Rude biped, keeping me from the hunt. This time she was smarter, but not smart enough. She left me alone with the male biped, and I was out the door and on the prowl once more.

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