http://www.fredoneverything.net/Guad.shtml

I was in Tommy's Bar the other day when a horse stuck its head in the door. The owner knew Tommy and wanted to talk to him. The horse apparently wondered what was inside, and stuck its head in to look. It seemed reasonable. It was how I would have done it.

If you even rode a horse in Washington, you'd need three permits, a parade license, turn signals, and a horse diaper. The paperwork alone would require help from an accounting firm. They'd x-ray the horse for explosives. It would probably mutate and turn into a huge gurgling cephalopod.

In Mexico, you get on a horse and point it where you want to go. Nobody gives a damn. It's a horse.

A lot of things work that way in Mexico. I was in a restaurant on the plaza when a woman came in with her dog. It curled up under the table and occasionally cadged bits of enchilada. It's what dogs do. It's OK. In the US, people keep dogs in their houses for years and nobody dies.

If the same dog came into a restaurant in Arlington, a SWAT team from Public Health would storm the place in funny-looking gas masks, confiscate the dog for analysis, and seal the premises for forty years. The United States can't tell a pup-dog from the Black Death.