The Little horse executes his plan

When Lou woke for breakfast the little horse trotted on ahead. Lou turned into the buffet room, but the little horse sprinted for the pool. Perched on a pillar he surveyed the beach and the ocean beyond. Already people were on the beach, setting out chairs, claiming their spot in the sun. A cruise ship was pulling into the harbor. The little horse saw his chance. He leaped to the sand below and dashed across the beach. When he was sure that Lou was not following him, he felt free to explore. With a little neigh he trotted here and there, sniffing at sea shells, stomping his hoof if a gull came too close. Then he spotted a group of people just his size. He cantered up and stopped just out of reach. His ears were pricked, his tail did not droop. He looked to both sides. Never had he seen people like this before, dressed as super heroes, each with a tiny parachute tucked into a plastic bag. One figure leaned toward the little horse. He backed up two steps and stomped. He did not want to be captured by a super hero. The little horse spun around and galloped down the beach, reveling in his freedom. At last he was on his own in a foreign land.

The little horse makes a plan

That evening the little horse quietly sipped water while the big boys sat around in the bar. He did not let on the plot he was hatching.

At night he enjoyed the fancy sculptures made out of the towels, decorated with flowers. He washed up for bedtime, never letting on that he had ideas of his own. He slept restlessly, dreaming wild dreams of running free through high grass prairies. Sometimes he thought he was being chased by wolves. He woke with a start, early in the morning.

Later in the afternoon, everyone sat around the pool, soaking up the warmth and reading. It seemed that reading, hanging out in the pool, and eating was all the boys did on vacation. The little horse gazed restlessly at the horizon. He might have to break free. He might have to venture out on his own. He watched the sun setting over the Pacific and planned his escape.

The little horse and Lou set off for the pool. The sun was warm, the sky was blue, it was almost noon and Pete was still not up.

The little horse had never been in an infinity pool before. He trotted back and forth on what felt like the very edge of the world. As the sun became hotter the little horse found shade beneath tall grasses. He munched contentedly on the seeds and decided to skip lunch at the buffet.

At last the little horse would be able to taste exotic vegetation. The herbs on the salad made him sneeze. He wandered among the goblets of wine and water. He tasted three different kinds of creme brulee. The little horse was ready for bed. All that foreign food had a soporific effect on him.

Have You Seen the Little Horse?

Because it was getting dark, the little horse had to begin his exploring inside. He left the boys watching TV and trotted down the hall to the huge, open air lobby of the hotel. A beautiful Christmas tree filled the center of the room. Wrapped packages surrounded the tree. The little horse climbed over all the packages to see who they were for but he never found any name tags. The boxes sounded hollow, under his hooves. Empty, he decided, just decoration.

He hopped down and trotted one way, then another, admiring the poinsettia flowers blooming in painted pots, the antique clock from Spain, until he wandered into a fenced off area. There were people and animals and a barn just his size. He gazed with wonder on the little tableau. These Christmas decorations were quite different from the snowmen and elves and Santa Claus figures he was used to back home.

He heard the whistle that meant it was dinnertime. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. First he bowed to the people in the barn, and then he slowly, respectfully backed away. Then off he flew at a canter down the tiled halls of the hotel, his hooves beating out a rhythmic tapping sound. He skidded to a halt just as Lou and Pete came out of their room, and he followed them to the restaurant for dinner.