In Moonsville's short history we've packed in many different kinds of shows: weddings, funerals, hospital birth parties, festivals, bars, a Tequila soiree, restaurant openings, Fly-fishing bashes, brewery anniversaries, adoption parties, retirement celebrations, a Zoo re-opening, meditation retreats, Lincolns birthday memorial and more.  The particular story below took place at an Orange County Country Club members only, exclusive and expensive Cowboy themed event:

The Chalk-white Shetland, obviously tired of being ridden, tricked out, paraded and photographed, completely lost it.  She spit out her bit and bucked off her heavy saddle.  She galloped behind the stage as the crowd rose to their feet.  At first, all of us in the band thought, 'Wow, everyone really loves this tune we're playing' but soon realized that their dropped jaws and ghost gasps were due to the rogue pony.  We kept playing like the band on the Titanic and knew that at any point one of us could get back-sacked by that 300lbs, cracked-out, wanna-be stallion.  The Country Club staff put themselves between the children and the beast hoping they could use their courage as leverage in future pay raise conversations.  Everyone's phones were raised and videoing.  After several quick 10 yard dashes, the rogue pony stopped, spun and cranked its head vertically signalling surrender.  Her mane swayed like a waved white flag as she posed proud in the middle of the driving range.  We finished our song as calmness returned.  Everyone sat back down, revisited their meat and gravy and the rented mechanical bull creaked on.  The Shetland, we nicknamed, "White Lightning", was escorted off the grass and tied to the metal fence of the pig and goat petting zoo.  She stood, her pony chin high, panting and knowing she reminded us all that even a short vacation feels good.


Corey Adams