Party Bus or Mom's Taxi Service?

Now that Jane and I are all hyped up about Tigoni -- we're going again tomorrow -- I'm obsessing a bit about how nerve-wracking it is getting a horse from point A to point B (especially when you've got Banana and Little Banana in between, two little towns with a universe-worth of chaos and approx. 79 speed bumps between them).

It doesn't help that Joya and I have very different opinions on the best way for her to travel.

Joya just loves a lorry. For her, I think it's like riding the team bus to an away game in high school. Five other horses! Some of them sure to be geldings! Endless snacking! Opportunities for flirting and feuding!

I, on the other hand, hate a lorry. I look at them all loaded in there with their heads sticking out the side, and my imagination runs wild. I see the lorry careening around a corner, out of control, much to close to a telephone pole... Plus, who is this guy driving the thing? Does he know where he is going? Does he fully appreciate the nature of the load, which is to say heavy, living, a tad neurotic and in all honesty not that smart?

So, I like my friend's two-horse trailer. I know the driver, 'cause the driver is me. I know where I am going. And I know -- I really know -- that everyone else out there on the road is crazy.

Joya thinks trailers are for nerds and wimps. It's like having Mom drive you to the prom. She used to load quietly enough, but then got a bit shirty about it after I took her to Gilgil all by herself, and then brought her back again with a jump in the other half. It was a jump she never much liked anyway.

So, before our first trip to Tigoni last week, Peter and I practiced loading Joya and Beauty into the trailer. First try, total failure. But by the fifth time, it all went pretty quietly, as long was Beauty went first...

"I'll follow you anywhere!"