I like that Toronto still has police officers on horseback. They look cool, children love them, and I really enjoy imagining them charging down a drug dealer with the William Tell Overture inexplicably playing in the background.
This happens to me at least once a week. I'll be riding along the Lakeshore bike path when something will invariably capture my attention. Like, "Oooh, look at that pretty bird," or "Ontario Place sure smells like urine this morning," or even, "Hey! That guy isn't wearing any pants!" While my attention is temporarily elsewhere, I will invariably ride through a huge pile of horse dung. And I mean huge. Like the horse went out to a fancy restaurant and ate a lot of really rich and/or spicy food, and then had a profound moment of reckoning the next morning.
So, there I am. An innocent cyclist just trying to get to work, suddenly forced to cope with a horse-poolooza of biblical proportions. I don't know about your office, but when I show covered in a thin veneer of horse crap, people look at me funny.
I'm not sure what the solution is here. A special Police Auxilliary of Pooper-Scoopers? Horse diapers? Robot horses? All I know is that if you're out on the Lakeshore, mind the path. There be dragons.
Photo courtesy of comicpie.