I pictured a set of ten-pins crashing hard under the crushing weight of a bowling ball, frozen in place by the surge of fear I felt at impending doom on four hooves snorting and prancing its way toward me. But when no one else ran for the hills, I could, at least, be grateful to my lack of flight instinct that kept me from looking like a total coward.

Turned out this sort of thing was to be expected in the horse world. Who knew? Somehow, the itty-bitty little girl (she ...