The Fall

This time I hit the dirt.

The ride started with an aging stiff lady and a young, but still stiff, green mare.

It's been over 20 years since I've been as active and dedicated to my lifestyle as I have been this week.
Having spent the last 6 years fighting fibromyalgia, I honestly thought I would never see my life like this again. Every day that I am able to live my life the way I want to is a blessing - a blessing I will never again squander.

So this afternoon when it came time to ride, I awkwardly fumbled my way out to the paddock to catch Punkin.

She was happy to see me, but not so happy to see the halter.

Taking one look at it she turned and ran. Standing on her front legs I could see she was about to kick back with both back feet.

Then her brain turned on. I'm sure in that moment she remembered the one time she kicked me as a foal.

Just as quickly as she thought about kicking me, she tucked her tail between her legs and scooted off apologetically.

I approached her again.

"You're a good girl," I told her as I scratched her neck and shoulders.

She melted under the touch of my fingertips and dropped her head into the halter.

She followed me out of the paddock we stood like an angel in the spot where I always drop her rope then waited patiently for her favorite part of being a pet horse - getting groomed.

Her favorite brush, the one with the soft rubber fingers, was out and waiting.

I took my time, making sure to use the fingers of the little brush to massage all the spots I knew were tight from our last adventure.

The concern on her face faded into pleasure as I slowly worked my way around her body. I noticed that newly forming muscles were starting to take the place of the squishy tissues that were there before.

Next, I put on her saddle. She took it like a grown-up.

My heart swelled with pride and excitement. After 9 years of waiting my filly was turning out to be a fine young mare.

We walked down the arena. No fuss on the lunge line.

I led her to the mounting block and got on.

At that moment I could feel my first leg grab her rib cage and right then her body tightened.

Neither of us wanted another rodeo ride.

I relaxed my leg, her body and mind quickly followed.

We started off down the road, walking stiffly but still walking.

About 500 meters into the journey the motion of our bodies moving together started to match and we became a little more limber.

Cars, trucks with trailers, a motorcycle, and even one of those sneaky cyclists passed us. She didn't even flinch.
Her spectacular behavior made me feel as though it was safe for her to set the pace. We ambled along at slow poke speed with no agenda.

It was pure bliss.

She made it all the way to the trail that cuts the scary corner off the road to the store. This is the farthest she has made it without having a stress poop yet. So when she dropped her road apples on the trail it didn't surprise me at all.

I hopped off and kicked the back-end-debris off the public trail.

Now I had to get back on.

If she had withers I would have stuck my foot in the stirrup and hoped on right there. But Punky has a back that resembles a table top and I count my lucky stars every time she spooks and I stay on. Mounting from the ground is not an option.

The end goal for today's ride was to see how close to the store we could get. If I'm going to give up driving and rely on my bike and horse for transportation in town we had better practice. So we proceeded on our journey with me on foot.

We walked calmly and not too far from the end of the trail I saw a few rounds of firewood set up to keep people from driving on a green space.

They weren't perfect but they would do. I led her to them and asked her to scoot over and pick me up.

The first attempt she pushed me off the stump with her head.

"Hey that's mean," I said to her, realizing that I not only sounded like a disgruntled child but we were starting to collect an audience of spectators.

She must have understood my whining because she didn't push me off the stump again. Something I did not want repeated in front of an audience.

For the next 10 minutes I would ask her to scoot over to me and she would. Then as I was about to get on she would leave.

I used to be the type of person who would try to force the situation somehow, but that girl almost got us bucked off the day before yesterday so she's not allowed to come riding with us anymore.

Instead, I decided to try being slightly more flexible. Punkin was, I thought, close enough that I could slide my leg over and hop a little to get on.

After all she was only a little far away and I was sure I could make it.

I put my leg over her, stretching into an almost split-like position. If she would stand then I would have enough power in my other leg to thrust myself into the saddle.

She moved.

I clung to the side of her clawing at the saddle, desperately trying to scramble my way up.

Then the saddle slipped sideways and slowly slid off the side of my mare and landed on the ground beneath her.

I braced myself for the impact of her hind feet, but it never came. Instead, she looked at me like I was some-kind-of-stupid and waited for me to get out from under her before she moved a muscle.

There I was at the edge of a coworker's driveway, laughing hysterically under my horse.

When I was done laughing I dusted myself off, fixed the saddle, and tried again.

10 more minutes passed. Then after making a promise that we would go home right after I got on, she scooted over and stayed while I slid myself onto her back.

Right away she wanted to trot.

It was a quiet, respectful trot that felt relaxed. So I let her pick the pace.

In the back of my head I heard "don't run home". Home was still over a kilometer away and my gut said "go with it".

When she started to slow down naturally I asked her not to, and signaled her to keep going. Then I asked for a few strides of canter before going back to a trot.

300 meters from the driveway I sat deep in my seat, "Now walk" I said keeping my hands quiet and light on her face.

She slowed into a nice walk and kept the same loose rein all the way home. When we got to the driveway she didn't want to go up it. She wanted to keep going but we went home anyway because I promised we would.

We met Tonka at the top of the hill. I took off her saddle and the padded halter we use as a bridle. I gave her face a good rub and put her food in her bowl.

Then instead of going in for dinner like she normally does. She stood in our spot waiting for just a little more time with me.