I was getting home late from rehearsal on our moonless dark dirt road, when Sam and I spied a horse crossing the road ahead of us. I slowed down, stopped, and saw it was Snip, our big Tennessee Walker. He was drawn to the car by the headlights, I guess, and he stopped just a few feet away from us on the passenger side, just looking at us. I released my foot from the brake, but was totally unprepared for what happened next. Snip thrust his head into the windshield, cracking a softball-sized bulls-eye into the glass. Snip was fine. I’m not sure how to tell if a horse has a concussion, but the next morning he was in his pen walking eating and drinking. The car however did need a new windshield and mirror.
Steve/Shelley
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