So not a donkey story, but a horse story and they are in the same family.

The story of Moose, the horse.

I traveled to Iceland in December of 2016. I personally thought it was warm, fellow travelers I met there from South Africa did not.

We went riding on Icelandic horses over volcanic flats and my horse was named Moose. I was told that Moose was a gentle horse.

I have ridden horses in the past but it had been a very long time since I had. I was looking for a nice gentle horse. Moose had other ideas.

Moose decided that was the day that he didn't want to listen and he just wanted to do his own thing. He nipped at several other horses causing them to start to run.

Moose would randomly decide he didn't want to be following the horse we were following and pass the horse.

But of all the things Moose did that day, my favorite was when we stopped for a moment and he spied a tiny patch of grass. He ran over to it and claimed it as his own. Another horse dared to come and take a nibble. Moose decided the best course of action was to kick that horse causing it to freak out. Moose remained calm.

Oh, Moose. I feel proud that I did not fall off you that day. But man my hip was hurting me the next.

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