Horsie!

So a funny thing happened on the way to work this morning -- driving down Telegraph in Oakland I see someone on horseback at the side of the road. I was fully prepared to assume it was some loon taking the urban frontier back, but it was a policeman. "Cool," I thought, "wish I could take a picture," and drove on.

When I got to work, I needed coffee -- got lots of meeting minutes to polish. So I trot on over to the coffee joint and who should I see at the intersection but a mounted policeman. "Cool," I thought, "if he's still there when I come out, maybe I'll see if I can take a picture."

He was. I walked up and politely asked to take his pic, and turns out he was very friendly and handsome -- gave me an open smile (while his equally handsome horse turned to inspect me -- probably smelled the sugary cinnamon bun in the bag), and even asked if we wanted him to face or pose a certain way.

"Nope, just a smile will do."

Not one to be passive, he gently tugged his horse ("Rocko?" I think was his name) to look at the camera.

Et voila. I had mentioned that I wanted the pic because it was such a rare thing to see, and he said that was no surprise, because there was only one of him. So it was the same man I saw driving in.


The one mounted policeman in Oakland.

Oh man, do I miss horses. "Rocko?" was very blase and matter of fact about the whole interaction, obviously well accustomed to his rider, traffic, and pedestrians. Aside from that distracting whiff of cinnamon sugar, he was ready for a pleasant amble or a sudden burst of action. How well I remember that attitude from all the bomb-proof trail riding antics of camp horses, or the bond that formed with my favorite horse of all back when I used to take lessons -- Tasha, a long, tall drink of horse water who used to take me around at a break-neck canter and rub her head against my back when we were walking to cool down.

*Sighs.*

Might be time to look into some riding lessons around here, or to take a vacation in Montana -- if only to get my fix.