It was those chimes, they drove me mad, they went ding ding

Things Lear did in honor of the full moon:

• Chewed on his reins while we waited for the ring to open. He looks very pleased with himself when he gets the leathers in his teeth. The fact that his big pink tongue sticks out a little as he does, giving him a goofy smugness that his two IQ points don't merit, makes it harder to for me to get too worked up about it. Lear: The Horse Who Flossed.
  
• Pricked his ears warily at the gate end of the ring and seemed vaguely let down that there was nothing scary there. All the deer that usually hang out down there making faces at us are celebrating the rut by running out onto the Beltway and causing huge traffic jams. Aw, no spooking for him.
  
• Spooked at the nongate end of the ring when someone honked a car horn. I stayed on, class continued, boring boring. (Later, Pat told a story about a fall several years ago that she doesn't remember. "I called my husband on my cell and said, 'Do we have a horse?' He said that I did and wanted to know why was I asking. 'Because I'm standing in the middle of a park wearing riding clothes, but there's no horse anywhere.' I couldn't even call 911, because I didn't really know where I was. Apparently I did find my way back to the barn, where I walked up to a volunteer and said, 'So they tell me I own a horse. Would you mind telling me which one?' The first thing I remember is seeing my husband standing in front of QC's stall." I think my helmet religion just held a tent revival.)
• Tried unsuccessfully to stealth up on the bag of horse treats Pat had brought. After class, when given one of same, he mouthed it carefully and then dropped it to the ground. What the hell, pony? Did you just want the thrill of chasing a stationary bag of sweets?
  
• Dove into his dinner bucket and rattled it so emphatically that grain sprayed halfway across the aisle. Yeah, that'll show those other horses who's boss. When he do stare, see how the subject quakes.