Remember back when I did all that trick riding and rodeo stuff?
No?
Know why you don't remember?
'CAUSE IT NEVER HAPPENED?
Confession: I love horses. I love to look at them. I love to pet them. I love to brush them. I love their elegance and grace. I love the rhythm of their hoof-beats when they're running. I love to hear them nicker softly or whinny excitedly. I love to imagine that I'm an accomplished rider.
So this morning...this beautiful, first day of fall, sunny but chilly morning....after 15 years (that's a decade and a half), Cowboy saddled up a horse for me to ride.
ok, wait....I have to tell you this part:
Last night he said, "we're going riding tomorrow with Rancher and his kids. I'm worried that it will be too much for you since you haven't ridden for a while."
.... but I heard:
"We're going riding tomorrow with Rancher and his kids. I think you're too big a wimp and an amateur to actually go, so why don't you make an excuse why you can't go with us."
....which made my proud blood simmer a tad.
"No, I can go," said my over-confident voice, "how hard can it actually be?"
Ok, back to this morning....
He saddled up Cowgirl, a not-so-gentle bay roan quarter horse, with my old aussie saddle (which, like me, hasn't been on a horse for 15 years).
It took forever since he had to find a girth strap big enough, get it tight enough, find her bridle, etc. All the while he's mumbling under his breath and getting hot under the collar.
I said (smiling sweetly), "at least you don't have to adjust the stirrups since my legs haven't grown or shrank."
.....No response.
Grumpy Cowboy.
Once she was ready, I put my left foot up in the air ....wow is she taller than my little 14 hand gelding of days gone by (have I mentioned it was 15 years ago?) ... pulled my jeans up at the knee just slightly, put my foot in the stirrup, put my hand on her neck, grabbed a handful of mane, and swung my right leg over. "There, I've still got it," I heard my pride congratulate itself.
He saddled up the horse he was going to ride...and away we all went.
"Yes! I knew it would all come back. Like riding a bike! I'm awesome!" my pride boasted yet again.
... I was actually quite trepidatious.
The horses were excited to be riding in the cool fall morning and wanted to run. They picked up the pace a little and Cowgirl started to trot.
Oh no, I don't remember how to post....I miss my little gaited horse...she doesn't like me....I look like a fool....
One of Rancher's beautiful daughters rode up beside me.. "are you ok?" she asked with tremendous compassion in her voice and on her face (or was it pity?)
"I'm fine," I replied with the most convincing smile I could muster...... I was mostly fine, kinda fine, sort of fine.
Then....
I admitted openly to the whole group that I was scared (I'm so transparent like that...) and could we please slow down? sorry.
They did slow down, much to the horses' chagrin.
The men scouted out good places to put up deer stands, looking for signs of deer traffic. Cowgirl seemed content to stand there and wait while Cowboy and Rancher stepped into the edge of the woods and beside ravines.
We mosey-ed around the edge of a ravine and crossed into a finger of the hay field. Cowgirl spooked at a branch lying in the path and did a little sideways dance step
(ok...I can handle this...I can handle this....I can probably handle this...)
She walked several steps forward keeping pace with the others, started to go into a trot, rared, bucked and spun to the left (bucking bronc style)
and down I went.
Thud!!!
I landed on my side and my head smacked the soft ground. I thought, while I was in mid-air, that I didn't want to land on my shoulder or break a hip (since I am a grandma...though quite youthful and vibrant....yeah)....so I somehow managed to pull my shoulder forward and land on my ribcage.
Ugggh
The wind was knocked right out of me. I pulled myself to my knees and sat there trying to regain my breath while feeling so embarrassed. Did I break my ribs? Can I talk? Is anyone going to come to my aid?
Side note: The last time I had the wind knocked out of me was maybe 40+ years ago when my little brother and I were jumping out of our swings from 20 feet in the air!
(ok probably not that high).
Rancher's daughter jumped off of her horse (which she had been riding bare-back--insult to injury) and rushed to my side. Putting an arm around me, "are you ok?"
"Yes, I'm fine...really. I'm not hurt. The last time I fell off a horse, I got a black eye!"
"Well, you sure know how to get bucked off with style!"
Cowgirl headed for the barn lot, turned to look back, hesitated....
and thought, "Nah, I guess I don't care"....and continued over the hill and out of sight.
Rancher said, "She thought about coming back!"
"I'll go after the horse," Rancher's daughter told her dad. Her little brother loped his horse right along with her (more insult/injury).
Cowboy asked again if I was ok...his face full of concern . I told him I was and that I was glad my feet came out of the stirrups....it would have been really humiliating to be dragged back to the barn lot by a renegade horse!
A few minutes later, Rancher's daughter rode back trailing Cowgirl and Rancher's son followed behind driving the gator. He said, "Do you want to ride Cowgirl back or this?" gesturing to the gator.
"Thanks, I think I'll ride back in the gator." Might as well admit defeat, right?
Like a perfect gentleman, he offered to drive me back and I accepted. "I saw it happen!" He started to give me the play by play: "She rared up and you went flying out of the saddle! The way your head hit, I thought you snapped your neck!"
Back in the barn lot, Rancher's daughter said, "you handled yourself very well."
Yeah
I think I'll can some tomatoes.
I wonder what part of my body will hurt for the next week?
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| Cowgirl after the "incident." I'm not all that great at reading body language, but I'm not seeing any remorse here. |
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