Curses, Foiled Again

After neglecting my horse all weekend I was ready to ride. I got to the barn quite late after going to see a friend of mine have a riding lesson. AK is 8 and a horsewoman in the making; it was really fun to see her post around on a big horse all happy and confident. I don't recall having lessons when I was little. The program was here is your horse, now ride it. I got run off with 3 times once on Christmas day on my Christmas present. Ran through the woods screaming my head off and then got back on and did it again. Doesn't say much for my IQ... but it all worked out eventually.

My husband and I drove down to where I grew up this weekend and I gave him a tour of places where we bought horses when I was little. I must have had nearly a dozen different ponies and horses growing up for which I am eternally grateful and richer in life (if poorer in the bank) for the experience. They ranged from Dusty the pony, who slid me off her neck countless times with the finesse only a shetland pony can have, to Spirit (who I named after an Eagles song -- how lame), who took care of me throughout my teenage years. Spirit was the best. I got him when I was 12 and he was 2 -- a horrible mix on paper but magical in real life. As I recall I just got him and started riding. No lessons, no trainer, no problems mostly. God takes care of fools and small children. We'd head out first thing in the morning and drag home at dusk. We raced Bobbie Jean and Domino down countless dirt roads and lazed in the pond on most summer afternoons. Best pal a kid could have had and catalyst for a lifetime of horses. Megan has big hooves to fill.

So back to last night, Megan came out of her stall with a big old fat ankle. Her left hind was about twice its normal size with a scrape and some heat on the inside of her fetlock. I think she knocked herself with her other hind foot. So no riding, just cold hosing and a dollop of Desitin, my cure all for everything. That's life with horses. I wouldn't trade it...