We attended a counter-protest which had a large contingent of mounted officers to help control the “peace” demonstrators. My Pat, one of the weirdest children ever, was about 3-1/2 then, and he went up to each horse, looked it in the eye, and told it his life story and probably predicted its future, before moving on to the next one. (His dad was with him, flummoxed, as so often happens when he spends time with his Offspring ...) The Fayetteville police were totally cool about it.
We were going to the stable each week in those days, because Anoreth was taking riding lessons, and Pat knew to stay away from the rear ends.