But the guy was not, and wacky circumstances don't grant you license to endanger yourself and others while under the influence. I knew I wasn't getting horse registration off this guy, so I started to book him, at which point this little old lady came up and asked why I was arresting Horse Guy. I began to explain that he was drunk driving, and that horses do count as vehicles under the transportation code, when some random dude ran up and punched the old lady in the head.
Punching little old people is a felony, or at least it should be, so my partner and I chased the assailant through the complex. He vanished somewhere into the labyrinth and was lost to us, so I made my way back to the car, hoping maybe the lady knew who he was. But she had vanished, too. And so had the drunken rider. The horse, however, had been left behind.
No one deals with horses. Animal control didn't have the right facilities to house one, our station sure as hell didn't, and not even my sergeant knew what the hell to do with it. I called a towing company and said I wanted a flatbed to move an abandoned horse, and was dismissed as a crank until I pointed out I was using the police-only number and that I did have a goddamn horse that needed to be ... impounded. Or something. In the end, we just moved it onto some grass and hoped it knew how to get home.
Last I heard, he'd cleaned up his act and gone back to school.
So that's why you don't go into those parts of the city alone. Shit like that happens.