If you took the Ponys with you to the supermarket, they would tug on the hem of your jacket, wrench off their sneakers, holler, and cram your shopping cart full of chocolate bars and Pringles. Pleading and whining and getting everyone to stare at them, the Ponys would embarrass you, each pathetic sniffle and brazen demand garnering loads of knowing glares from irritated checkout clerks and erstwhile produce-sniffers. But none of this would make you... More >>>