As soon as he got off the plane the little horse knew he was in a different country. He could not read the signs. He could not understand what was said. He paid close attention to what the other passengers did, followed in line, nodded politely at the customs officials as he handed over his passport. Then he followed the crowd to a comfortable bus.

The little horse stared out the window of the bus as they drove along. The landscape was very dry. Cactus and yucca plants and sage tumble weed grew along the side of the road. Even the riverbeds were dry. But on the other side of the road he could see the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. They drove past tumble-down shacks. They drove past a dilapidated stadium advertising bullfights. They drove past Home Depot. Then they reached the edge of a town. Big hotels blocked the view of the ocean. Finally the bus pulled into the driveway of the little horse's hotel. It didn't take long to check into the room. The little horse was staying with his friends, Pete and Lou and their parents.

He longed to explore but Pete and Lou turned on the TV and began to watch football. What choice did a little horse have in a foreign land? He watched football, too.