A Tonka Driven Adventure

Before we surrendered to the bleak reality of winter, the horses and I would play on the property nearly every day after work. It was light and fun. I would ride up and down from pasture to pasture and Tonka would often follow at his own speed. 
The weather was still kind, and the days were still light, but the pressures of my second job left me feeling like I couldn’t travel too far from home. Puttering around the property was a good way for us to continue working together without the formality of leaving the property. 
Punkin found these events slightly annoying. She can walk up and down the hill by herself. She craves adventure, as do I, but with my energy lowering with the darkening days, this was better than nothing. Tonka, also craving adventure, found a way to tell that intends to continue them on this day.  

It was a lazy afternoon. Tonka had been a perfect pony for so long. I was sure that he would continue to be an angel, and I bet on that when I made the decision not to close the driveway gate. After all, the gate to the lower pasture was far enough away, or so that I thought, from the driveway gate. 

Having haltered Punkin I let Tonka loose just like any other day and we started making our way down the winding driveway. Everything was going just as I had imagined and then it happened. He saw the open gate. Picking up speed, he rushed towards it, leaving Punkin and I high headed in his dust. 

“Tonka” I called as I watched him approach the gate in a spectacular extended trot. 

“TONKA!” I called again, panic filling my voice as I watched him happily continue through the opening and onto the road. 

Punkin and I rushed to catch up with him as pranced down the yellow line leading us towards the village center. 
Most days when I ride the road, there is little to no traffic. But on this day I found myself shocked by the amount of vehicles that caught me in my negligence. There are only 200 people that live in our village and I swear most of them were out that day dogging my wayward pony as he sauntered towards town. 

Punkin and I followed as quickly as we could. Her saddle, not yet tightened, had slipped to the side in the commotion. It posed no immediate threat to our safety but the visual offered a feast for the eyes of my neighbours. Slowly they drove past with accusing looks as they watched my off leash pony divert traffic without a care in the world. 

Punkin and I quickened our pace. Tonka took this as a cue to trot faster. At this rate, we were going to be at the store in no time. Why we can’t get to the store at this speed on a working day is something Tonka and I are going to have to discuss. 
We pressed on. The faster I went to catch up, the fastere he trotted to stay ahead. Then I realized what needed to be done. I turned and asked

Punkin to trot back home. At first she was hesitant. After all, Tonka said we were going to town and she thought that was a great idea. Someone had to find a way to tell the loose pony that was a bad idea. 

Punkin was hesitant to follow my lead, but she trotted with me, reluctantly. Her head tilted to watch the drama unfold behind us as she awkwardly stumbled over her feet, letting out the odd whinny of abandonment to alert Tonka that his mutiny was failing. 

Tonka called to us in confusion as he processed his sudden loss of control over the herd. Traffic dodged us as I trotted my stumbling mare up the side of the road. The driveway was on our left and with a leap of faith, we turned up it. 

Being out of sight was a little unnerving, but I had to trust that I knew my pony well enough to know that he today he wanted company on his stolen adventure. Punkin and I, watched in anticipation, our heads held high. She whinnied again. He whinnied back. It sounded like he was
getting closer. The feeling of relief trickled over me. 

After what felt like an eternity, Tonka rounded the corner and came up the driveway towards us. He spent the next few days quite pleased with himself and I have learned my lesson. If there is a pony involved, close the gate.