Defined as a non-native species, the feral ponies of Assateague are tolerated by the Park Service, though not necessarily welcomed. The National Seashore and wildlife refuge exist to preserve only native species of flora and fauna. People, however, enjoy seeing them, and when it became clear that many visit the park primarily to share their campsites with the ponies, the Park Service relented and let them stay.

These ponies are brazen. They wander purposefully right into the campsites in search of good grazing and perhaps tidbits that they could beg from obliging humans. As I observed the late afternoon adventures of a band of eight, I was simply amazed. These bold animals walked under clotheslines and then trampled the dislodged beach towels. They wandered over tarps while a family worked to erect a large tent. A pinto mare sniffed with mild interest at the hamburgers cooking inches from a log fire. A man in a lawn chair protested, and was rewarded by a swish of her long tail in his face. An itchy filly viewed most human contraptions as potential scratching posts, and loosened her shedding coat by rubbing against barbecue grills and truck bumpers.

On a morning bike ride, I noticed a particularly curious filly pawing at a tent, waking the children asleep inside. The youngsters baled out, their shrieks of fear momentarily startling the foal.

"They just don't trust those horses anymore." drawled their mother from a brand new screen tent nearby. "Last year they ruined a perfectly good screen house. There wasn't anything inside of it, just a bare picnic table. But they pawed big holes in it and walked right on in. Had to get another one."

Even in the heart of the campground, the horses tend to their equine activities unmindful of the audience. I watched one stallion grow intolerant of another who grazed with his family nearby. He ignored the interloper as long as he could, then suddenly leaped at him in a dramatic show of power. The other stallion didn't answer the challenge - he and his mare bolted across a campsite, leaped a tricycle, dodged a barbecue grill, and resumed grazing a safe distance away. And in the shade of a bath house, a bay stallion enthusiastically mated one of his mares, while tourists nearby pretended not to watch.

On hot days, when the bugs became intolerable, they crossed the duneline to the open beach,and stood at the waterline beside beach-going humans. I marveled at the fact that most domestic horses had a far greater fear of human implements than these supposedly wild ponies. As the ponies placidly strolled the beach, boogie boards washed up in the surf at their heels, bright umbrellas fluttered in the wind, and screaming children raced to the sea. In the camping areas, I watched a pair of inline skaters swiftly blading down the pavement, passing so close to the hind end of a browsing stallion that they could have reached out and tweaked his tail hairs. Most of the domestic horses I know are at least somewhat intolerant of wheeled people whizzing by on bikes, skates or other devices, yet these animals largely ignored the children that nearly collided with them at regular intervals. Leashed dogs barked savagely at the equine interlopers as they visited the campsites, but they seemed to know all dogs must remain on a 6 foot leash - they weren't impressed with the barking.

Certainly, a few tourists are bitten and kicked every year, and property damage does occur, but not nearly as often as one might expect. Much of this success record can be attributed to the vigilance of the parks dept. employees.

Before "no petting" rules were enforced, tourists would crowd around the animals, stroking them and braiding their manes. Most visitors seemed oblivious to the fact that even gentle horses can unintentionally inflict serious harm upon a human simply by kicking at a fly or a herd-mate. A horse lashing out at another typically doesn't notice or worry about the human caught in the middle. And even domestic horses have their moody days, and show their feelings with teeth and hooves.

The State Park and National Seashore now preach that the horses are not to be fed, harassed, or petted. Doing any of the above will earn the transgressor a $25 dollar fine on National Seashore property, $40 on State Park grounds. It is also unlawful to pull off the roadway to watch or photograph the horses (but innumerable people do it anyway, blocking the bike path.)

Driving through the park, I found myself tailgated by impatient motorists as I kept the speed limit - now I understood why horses are injured or killed on the pavement every year. Every time I cruised down the main road, I found myself stopping for horses in the road. Some merely crossed in front of my vehicle on the way from here to there. Others purposefully blocked traffic to thrust enormous muzzles into open car windows, in search of forbidden treats. Feeding the horses is bad, especially from a car, as it encourages the horses to wander in front of moving vehicles.

The horses look similar at both the Maryland and Virginia ends of Assateague. A fence separates the herds, but sometimes surplus Maryland horses have been admitted to the Virginia population, to get rid of problem ponies and give the Virginia horses greater genetic diversity. The average height is only twelve to 13.2 hands, pony-sized to be sure, and the animals spot the unmistakable build of ponies - short, thick legs, short backs, thick manes and tails, and that distinctive blocked-off muzzle common to so many barrier island horses. Though the foundation stock was undoubtedly Spanish or Spanish-based, so many introductions have taken place over the years, today’s Assateague ponies are a blend of many flavors, yet homogenized to become unique as a breed.