A friend and I got to talking about horses the other night on FB. It brought back wonderful memories of horseback riding with friends and family but it also brought back those not-so-fun-then but funny-now moments and I thought I'd share a few.
Chance was a horse a friend of mine in high school had rescued off the slaughter truck. She was your typical high-strung Arabian and with gentleness and patience, she thrived under my friends care. I'd often go with her to the barn to work Chance and occasionally we'd go riding, either on the trails or in the arena.
On this particular occasion, I was riding Chance in the arena around barrels. I wasn't exactly barrel racing, but we weren't just walking around either. After several laps, the saddle started slipping to the side. I couldn't pull myself back up and I thought falling to the ground would be easier.
Except for one teeny-tiny problem.
My weight falling + my wrist catching =
You see, when I fell, instinct kicked in and I tried to "stop" my fall. I landed palm down with all my weight crashing down. That resulted in a cast for several weeks and what the doctors called a compound or goose egg fracture. On the plus side, I got some really great autographs on my cast! Downside, it was my left (not writing hand) so I didn't get out of any school work. :-P
This next one I like to call "Dancing in the Street":
My moms neighbor would bring her horses to moms pasture to graze on numerous occasions. When they found out I loved horses and loved riding, they'd bring a saddle and bridle whenever they brought the horses.
One day I decide to go riding. We're walking down the road (Mom lives on a back country road with hardly traffic) and the horse is fighting me every step of the way, wanting to go back to his herd. He's rearing, he's spinning. He's pretty much doing everything he can to get me to let him go where he wants. I'm making him go a few more steps before I "give" him his head and as I'm doing this, a big old bronco comes flying down the road. Now, this is a pretty straight stretch of road and I'm in the freaking middle of it on a horse that's dancing. I figure this truck will slow down or stop, let me get this horse under control and then move on.
Oh no, they keep coming.
The horse rears.
The same time the truck goes past.
And we fall INTO the truck.
The guy gets out, cussing me and I'm cussing right back: "You crazy f*cker!! Did you not see me and this horse in the middle of the damn road!!??".
We find a riding stable in the heart of the Great Smokey Mountains. Everything looks great, I laughingly mention Johns fear of horses and they say no problem.
So, what do they do?
Put us on horses that can't stand each other.
Yup, you read that right.
Our horses were enemies.
Our horses were enemies.
Johns horse kept trying to bite mine on the ass and mine kept trying to kick his in the face. The entire ride was spent making sure they didn't get to close to each other.
Seriously people? My husband, who's deathly afraid of horses and the ONLY reason he's riding is b/c of me and y'all put us on mortal enemies!! Oy vey.
Thankfully, nothing really bad happened, it just made for an interesting ride (and a great story LOL). Sadly tho, I don't think I can convince John to go horseback riding with me again.