Horses are beautiful animals, but we are not close.
Although I gave it a good try, I have never been much of an equestrian.
When I was in grade school, my favorite uncle — my mom’s sister’s husband — would have done anything for me. He even bought me a pony.
My uncle’s father had property on which he kept a large garden. He kept my pony, Sam, in his barn, took care of him for me and used him to plow. On the weekends, my uncle took me to ride Sam.
Clearly, though, I didn’t have a great relationship with Sam. I didn’t get to see him often enough and not truly having any responsibility for his care didn’t help us develop an understanding of one another.
Maybe I was too small to really take care of a pony, anyway. My uncle put on the saddle for me every time. I’m not sure I could have lifted it. I was never allowed to just ride Sam, either. My uncle was always leading him. Even then, I envied those who could really ride a horse — turned loose on a trail in the woods or in a field to romp.
The last time I rode Sam, my uncle put the gear on him, I mounted him and my uncle led us down the asphalt road away from the barn and toward the garden. On the way back to the barn, I felt something wasn’t right. In fact, it was left. I felt myself slowly sliding to the left and then I hit the asphalt. My uncle turned to see me lying on the road and Sam standing there with his saddle on his belly. The saddle wasn’t strapped on tightly enough and, without being thrown, I was thrown to the ground. The experience scared me off horses for a while.
I never got used to him nibbling my leg, looking for sugar cubes I kept in my pocket for him, either.
When I was a little older, my aunt and uncle lived in Virginia, close to a campground that offered guided trail riding. I begged to go until my family was tired of hearing me, so they took me to the ranch, as it was called. A cute boy about my age politely gave me some pointers on riding and promised my uncle he would watch out for me. He did. He let me ride directly behind his horse and he pointed out interesting plants and areas of the ranch as we traveled with another half dozen or so horses and their riders behind us.
Every chance I got, I went to the ranch and rode the trail, the cute boy in the lead and my uncle wisely giving me some space by hanging out at the general store and shooting the breeze with whoever wandered in.
I was still a little afraid of horses, especially these, as they were quite a bit bigger than Sam was. At least I knew the saddle was on tight enough, which gave me a little comfort.
But I was thrown again, this time not off a horse, but off the track of learning to ride.
My last day on the trail, a girl showed up who knew the cute guide. She wanted to ride behind him, but he wouldn’t allow it. He said I wasn’t as experienced a rider as she was and I needed to be close to him. She would ride behind me.
That sounded like a great arrangement to me. Unfortunately, the girl was determined to pay me back for separating her from the cute boy. I still don’t know exactly what she did to my horse, but just when we exited the woods to an open field, my horse took off flying with me and I had no control over him. I know she did something – or had her horse give mine a nip or a nudge. I could see out of the corner of my eye something going on and she was way too amused by the incident to be innocent.
Even though I didn’t learn how to ride or how to make a horse bolt with its rider, I did learn its best to let the other girl ride in front of you; at least you can keep an eye on her.
LEE WARD can be reached at lward@dailyindependent.com or (606) 326-2661.
Columns
Lee Ward — 10/04/09: Equine life is not for me
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