At the closing, it came up in conversation that I have a horse. I indicated where I kept him, and our lawyer - whose name I picked randomly off a list of recommendations provided by our real estate agent, mostly because she was the only woman - started laughing.
"We own Twinkie!" she said.
Twinkie, the semi-retired pinto lesson pony who lived three stalls down from Tristan.
I don't know if this is a "horse world is small" moment or a "Vermont is small" moment or some bizarre intersection of both at once, but I laughed pretty hard too.