As I stated in my earlier Day 1 post, I fell off my sister’s horse at age 5 or 6 but being dumped like a sack of potatoes doesn’t count when you don’t even KNOW how to ride, right?
So we can push forward a couple more years through my lessons and learning to up and down posting (GOD I can still remember how hard a freaking DIAGONAL was wtf, it took me years, leads were MUCH easier…LOL) and to me getting my own horse, Pasha, who we talked about earlier.
Sidebar: If you read my blog and you have kids, pay attention to this. Getting a 12 year old a yearling for her first horse. NOT cool. HA I would NOT change it for the world but yeah. NOT a good idea. End of Sidebar! 🙂
I fell in love with Pasha (he was born there so how could I not) and had to have him. There were two foals that year and they were called Little Boy and Little Girl. I kid you not Pasha was called Little Boy until he was ready to start under saddle. Okay on with the rest of the story!
His dam, Sheba, was this cute sporty Morgan mare, black in color, who had had some mistreatment before Mrs. B got her. So she had trust issues. Big time. And guess what she passed onto Little Boy? For the first year I had him, he was hard to catch in the stall, EVEN though he had been handled from birth. I sat in his feed tub for hours so he could get used to me and relax (he did finally). (I was a bit tinier then obviously LOL).
Anyway fast forward to his three year old year and I started riding him. Yes me. I guess I was 14 by then? He was not bad at all I could climb on him and do little things with him but you literally could not move in the saddle too much or he would do a flight reaction. Um. Yeah. Fun.
We got him over a lot of it but one day earlier on I was on him in the outdoor ring by the road, and he was doing very good. We were just walking and trotting some by then. And Mrs B came out and said how is he doing? And (being the IDIOT I STILL AM) I leaned back and put my hand on his butt while in the saddle (Mrs B was behind me) and said oh he is doing great…………………………..
ZOOOM, off we went. He took off like a bat of a hell and I had no brakes and I stayed on for a while and then I was like (in a 14 year old head in the 80s we did not cuss like we do not but I said the equivalent of EFF THIS) done with this and jumped! HA.
BOOM off I went and Pasha kept running. He finally stopped. But shit that was scary. And now we know why I am a freak and scared of the slightest thing (OH yeah 5 or 6 years later he reared at a show and flipped on me and I ended up in the hospital, but that is another story ,as well we will save that for Day 09, shall we?).
Mrs B dusted me off and said AND NOW You become a rider. And guys as much as I have fallen over the years. I must be the DAMN best rider in the world 🙂 HA I still loved Pasha and miss him to this day. He ended up mellowing and giving lessons to tiny kids till he passed at the great age of 28. Morgans they crawl into your heart and stay there. So my first real fall was off a Morgan. And my second…and my third..and then some…
Celebrate NaBloPoMo 2017 by writing every day in November, following the prompts given!