I remember the exceptionally tame lions that I got to stroke, that could jump through hoops of fire, and do tricks, such as rolling over, playing dead, etc.

The other thing I remember is a rather elderly pony. This pony had quite obviously been in the circus an exceptionally long time. The pony's routine was to walk out into the crowd and "shake hands" with the audience. When I say "shake hands", I mean the pony would stand and wobble on three legs, raising its front right leg up for the audience member to shake.

When it came time for me to shake the pony's "hand", I was very excited. I looked at the pony's glazed eyes and with a big smile and shook it's "hand". My mother took a photo of father and I with the Pony. When I was finished, the pony continued on through the audience, posing for photo opportunities with other audience members, until the audience had had enough.

The very next morning, my mother had the film developed. The photo was quite a good one, the kind that you would share with your extended family at birthdays and the like. It was decided that we would travel to the next town tomorrow and see the circus again. While the other circus animals were exciting, I had a place in my heart for that pony. I hardly slept a minute that night as I was looking forward to seeing the pony the next day.

The circus night arrived and I was all excited. I sat through the circus, patiently watching the routines that the trainers had rehersed with the animals many times, quite intent on shaking hands with the pony. The lions, the monkeys, and the elephant did their acts. The trainers took their bows and accepted applause from the audience, but there was no sign of the pony. I was extremely disappointed, so my father went and asked the trainer where the pony was. When my father came back, he didn't say much, except that it was time to go home and the pony wouldn't be making an appearance tonight.

September 11th has affected us all in different ways. Some people have been brought closer together in dark moments, while others hate each other as much as ever. Arnold Schwarzenegger has made another terrible-yet-timely movie about terrorists. Elenchos re-hashes the controversies of hackers and where they fit in the terrorist threat at every opportunity, however narrow that opportunity may be.

At my 21st birthday party, we were reviewing photos on the photo collage. There was the excellent photo of me and the pony, now worn at the edges the way that old photos are. We sat and recalled that great circus night. In a private moment, my father told me that the pony had been shot after the circus as it was too old to learn any new tricks.