"I walk boldly up to the lion on my pathway and find that it is a friendly airedale"--Florence Scovel Shinn
When I was in law school, I went on a date with a woman who was a Welsh pony champion. She spent her Summers in Wales, which, by coincidence, is a good place for Welsh ponies. We went to the Pea Ridge battlefield and stared up into the sky, where clouds reside.
The relationship did not have shoes sufficient for a canter. She clop-clopped off to Harvard Law School. We did not even work up to a moderate trot, so it was just one of those brief instants when friends go out, in a happenstance. I believe that she may have married a Welshman, if memory serves, but I am not sure that pony stayed a-trail.
Lassie had a preternatural ability to bark at mountain lions and make them stay away from Timmy, Ranger Jim, Roddy McDowall or whomever else was in harm's way. No doubt Lassie would make the path smooth for Welsh ponies and their walkers. She might even imagine a pony was a curious airedale, or that she was Welsh indeed.