It is Hope’s Fault
Fancy: Why are you riding me in the afternoon when it is so dang hot? Susan: Hope wanted to ride Lucky with us this afternoon. Fancy: This is Hope's fault? The woman sitting on Lucky? Susan: Yes. It's Hope's fault Fancy: Can I bite Hope? Susan: No. Lucky will protect her. Fancy: It's too darn hot when you have to give me a bath before you ride me. Susan: I'm sorry. You were sweaty with a crust of sweat dirt. We wouldn't want your saddle pad to get crusty sweat-grit dirty. It's Hope's fault. Fancy: Where is my bridle and bit? How dare you ride me…