In the meantime, here are a few destinations that have met with my consideration:
Iceland. On the one hoof, as an island nation it is
sure to have beaches. On the other, it also has wretched dining opportunities and tremendously dangerous volcanos. My impression about the
diminuitive Icelandic Horse is that he would look less like a pony if it were not for his ancestral diet of
dried herring and seaweed.
2. Australia. Firstly, it is a nation of dingos and convicts. That said, I am generally good at getting along with people from all walks of life,
and it is also home to Thowra, the Silver Brumby stallion with mucho muleness. If you are a
human child between the ages of 8 and 13, your education is not complete unless you know
exactly what I am talking about, and I am not talking about the Russell Crowe movie.
Rollable beaches? Check. Delicious foliage? Check. Fluffy little animals that smell like air fresheners? Check. A definite possibility.
3. New Zealand. Home to the flightless kiwi, Clifton Eventers, and Middle Earth. I have always
dreamed of galloping through Rohan with a Shadowfax and his kin. Do the Rohirrim have a proper appreciation for mules?
4. New Hampshire. The beaches are cold and stony, the grasses obscured by a carpet of rotting foliage, and the growing season short, but New Hampshire is home to some of the nicest humans that side of the Mississippi. My humans go there regularly, and it is only a matter of time before I get an invitation to accompany them.
5. Hawai'i. Downsides? The smoke monster, the Others, and the Hostiles, plus dangerous levels of electromagnetic energy. Upsides? No
passport required, the beaches are to die for, and there's actually a reasonable amount of tasty hay in this wee island state. Better yet? We have people there. We will stay with our friend Mayumi the Graduate Student. If she has managed to find accommodations for Taco the Boston Terrier, surely she can squeeze in a 14 hand mule.
There are many more destinations worthy of my mulish consideration, but when it comes down to it there's this: I'm still waiting on that private jet. Perhaps I should look into Dune City, Oregon . . . I hear the rolling is lovely this time of year.