Amazing Story of Manfred the Horse in my Bathtub

One day, I forget when, I believe it was a Tuesday at any rate, a horse suddenly appeared in my bathtub.

He was just standing there,and when I first saw him and he saw me, he looked at me as if to say 'well,what are YOU looking at?'.

I noticed, right off the bat, that he made no 'mess' which indicates there is some question as to his existential reality. But in every other sense he appears very real.

Thinking he might be hungry, I offered him sugar cubes--he sniggered.

carrots--he could care less
hay--he neyed 'no'
apples--he appeared appaled
water--he winced

So I thought he might be one of those horses from Manhattan, or at least a horse with a discerning palette, and I was right.

• He gorged caviar
• ate lobster with a bib,
• ravaged canapes and creme brulee ,
• Cornish hen and Camembert cheese he consumed with "yippies !"
• roasted duck with glaze he dined on with praise.

The fellow was a horse, but his appetite was inspired.

What with the bribery of food extraordinaire the horse soon made his way out of my bathtub and began making himself at home around my flat and we soon began striking up what I can only call stimulating conversations.

It seems his name was 'Manfred' and he arrived by mischance when his balloon (he travels by balloon and basket seeing as the airlines have some policy prohibiting equines in first-class) ran out of hot air over the roof of my building. "So" as he put it "I had no choice but to make my way inside your flat for the time being, an inconvenience I trust that will not out-stay it's welcome."

"Hardly Manfred, hardly. I can't imagine a more...fascinating...and exotic...horse guest...I mean house-guest!..."

He asked me to pass the cigars and upon biting the end of one he lit it up and blew smoke-rings.

"You are aware, my good fellow," I said with some trepidation,"that smoking is not permitted on the premises?"

"Even for horses?" he twinkled.

"We have yet to categorize you my friend, as any such thing."

Stubbing out the offending Cuban-export, he leaned forward and propped up a hoof on his knee. "Let's see...1.Appearence? Horse. 2.Species? Equus ferus caballus (see Wikipedia) he added. 3.Legs? Four. 4. etc. etc. etc. Convinced?

But Manfred, your horse-features, your eqquus ferus caballus if you prefer, are far-out-weighed by your other characterisitics. I levitated my hand and started counting down on my fingers...1.You can talk--in at least 10 languages and a few I cannot identify.

كنت على صواب

he interjected.

"2." I continued, " You can reason. "

"Cogito ergo sum!" he agreed.

"3. You can dance the Japanese Bugaku Kagura,the Polish Polka,South American Samba and the 1960's 'Monkey' all with perfection!"

"What can I say? I've got rhythm."

"4. And is there anywhere you have not been in your hot-air balloon?" I mused.

"Not much. Never been to Narnia--can't fit through that blinkin' tiny wardrobe. Never been to the Whitehouse although once, when my balloon was faltering I hitched a ride on Air-Force One...That Barack, (Hussein to his friends) isn't as cold as the press makes him out to be...but that's all very hush-hush...If I told you anymore I'd have to kill you."

I sunk my head in my hands.

"So, after all that, and who knows how much more I could lay-out as evidence for the Prosecution, you still insist on calling yourself a horse?"

"If it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck..."

"Then it MUST be a horse..." I interjected.

Manfred winced. He winces often, I notice.

I changed the subject. "So that name--Manfred. I take it you picked it up while reading The Castle of Otranto?"

"The what? Never read it. Manfred is the name given to me by Leonardo after I pointed out some flaws in his Mona...he was so grateful he gave me the name of his childhood imaginary friend. Quite an honor and I accepted."

"So" I ventured, what was your name before you knew Da Vinci?"

He yawned, showing all his horsey teeth in full panoply. "O time for a break. Let's go for a jaunt down to the park and chase squirrels or something."

This was the first time he had ever offered to go outside, and I, naturally was timid about the whole thing.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and I reflexively jumped up to answer.

It was Mrs.Wannabee my landlady.

Never one to hold her thoughts to herself, she burst out, before I could fully open the door:

"IS there a HORSE in here?"

"Depends on what your definition of 'Is' 'Is' , snickered Manfred, in a Clintonian manner.

Well what do you think I mean by it?.....wait a minute!" screamed Mrs. Wannabee in a way that all landladies do (I believe they have to take a course in Landlady 101 just to get the job.)..."Who said that?" she yelled, looking wildly around my small flat for another person.

"I KNOW I heard clip-clopping up here, and I'm not one to hallucinate!"

There was a silence in the room that could have been sliced, packaged and sold to noisy countries to dim down their noise-rates.

Just in time Inspiration smacked me on the noggin with the force of flying brick.

"Ah Mrs. Wannabee, did I give you your traditional Holiday present?" I opened my wallet and flipped through some bills causing her antedeluvian eyeballs to extrude from their sockets in an alarming manner.

"Well that's o.k. then. If you read the lease I'm sure horses are considered 'guests' so this will cover it"

She disappeared with the dosh in hand faster than Manfred could run the mile at Churchill Downs.

The next morning I lurched into the kitchen, hair a-tussle,toward the coffee-machine, I discovered under the coffee-can a note. It read:

"Good morning old bean! Good things never really last, which is what makes them so good perhaps, but at any rate my fledgling friend, it is time for me to go.

Shed not a tear upon the news of my departure, but instead think of all the fun we had. That's the ticket!

'I re-flated my balloon with the hot-air that Mrs. Wannabee left in the room, and was thus enabled my aerodyne adieu possible. In other words, my balloon could fly and so could I.

'Until next time, I'm off to China to drop in on a friend who has invited me for Chinese New Year.

Your Pal Manfred "

I must admit I did shed a tear as read this letter. There were many tales the heady guru spun for me that I will be busy transcribing into a book someday. A book which will delight my readers,distract my enemies, and put a coin or two in my pocket.

At least, that's the plan.