This segment was originally designed to be a thrill for all horse lovers, especially those of us who thrive off riding horses, training, colt starting. I had plans to share my long awaited experience of starting my colt from birth to now––a first-time-this-way-experience for me. It will still involve horse talk, or course, but perhaps with a different twists to begin with until I can once again type with both hands. I dare say it will be a touch easier than the hunt-and-peck I’m tanglin’ with now.
But right before I was to reel this series into cyberspace, I was ten days into starting my copper-colored colt named Cash. We were in the arena, warming up and taking a break from riding our other two horses with a couple of family kids, bending and circling, right toward a fence. Poor fella lost his balance, as two year olds do, and we rolled over the wire panel fence. In order for Cash’s legs and hooves to be safe, I actually had to have him roll completely over the top of me. I remember thinking, This is gonna hurt. It didn’t. Until three days later.
We both scrambled to our feet and stared at one another, questioning what had just happened, not with words, but with round eyes and wobbly knees. As family ran toward us inquiring about my well-being, I shouted back that I was okay, really I was, or so I thought. My family convinced me wrist x-rays might be a good idea. I glanced at my purple, fast swelling wrist and agreed. Probably just a sprain. I was proud of the fact that I had yet to break a bone.
I sat in the clinic still pondering our tumbleweed-in-a-windstorm phenomenon and realized that I had never felt the sensation of slow motion, until now. I watched the fence lay down with us, witnessed Cash kick his legs up toward the sky in order to lift his body up and over me, and him pop back up like a drunk slug. It was as if we were moving at half speed. I’m sure glad he was born and raised on our place and trusted me enough to listen when I asked him to roll over or things could have been much worse with his legs tangled if the fence.
After sending x-rays to the professionals down in Spokane, my doctor called me at home, sorry at having to announce my streak of no bones broken, ever, was over. Have you heard the saying it’s a long way from your heart? In a way there is truth to that deep-rooted adage.
But you see, my heart is with my horses. So for now, I’ll just have to feed them, brush them, chat with them, love on them. And lead my granddaughters on top of one.
Needless to say, I will only give bits and pieces for the next several weeks as typing with one hand slows me down.
Next time I’ll share with you what it took to get this stunning specimen of horse flesh into my life. A gift from the Almighty. How can I think that after eating dirt with my copper-colored friend? Easy. Accidents are part of horse ownership. Even well trained horses have bad days. The most experienced riders hit the ground. One just learns to dust of her pants, and get back on. After the cast comes off, of course.
Until next week.