Flyin' or dyin'

I tacked Cappy up at the sheep fields and crossed the creek to the neighborhood where I would ride. It seemed pointless to lead him up the long steep hill to Marilyn’s and then having to go back down that hill for my ride. The sheep fields sloped down to the valley, so it was a simple matter of crossing the creek, ¾ of a mile to the schooling field, and back. The disadvantage was there wasn't a holder to keep him still long enough so I could climb aboard.

On our fourth or so ride since I bought him, I shortened my reins, inserted my foot in the stirrup and started to swing quickly up. Midswing my toe slipped off the girth that was protecting him from my toe digging into his side. My effort was not enough to get me in the saddle before launching began.

He porpoised into the air, kicking and flailing. I was still hovering in the area directly above his back. A second leaping flail. Somewhere in the area above him, but definitely closer to the rear and no longer holding reins. The third leap flung me off over his hindquarters, where he managed to kick me several times while I was still midair, and one last blow as I struck the ground. Then a hoof, WOmpfph!

I lay breathless, fearing my pelvis was broken from where he stepped on me as he launched himself away from the area. Hearing his hooves galloping towards the neighborhood where we usually rode, I could only shout out “Cappy, Be CAREFUL!!” as all sounds of his flight receded in the distance.

I assessed myself, decided my pelvis probably was still intact, and struggled to my feet. I walked (ok, staggered) a little ways down the road, hoping to see Cap grazing once he had dislodged his burden and gotten out of the immediate scare zone. No horse.

I crossed over the creek, climbed the sheep hill to my car, and drove the long road route that would lead me to the private drive of my old neighborhood. I drove slowly once there, looking carefully at the properties on either side of the road, not knowing which way he would have headed.

My friend’s father was coming down the big hill that led to my old house. I rolled down my window to ask if he’d seen my horse go by, and he said he was out to look for me, as Cappy had run up to my old house and was being held by the homeowners. I thanked him and continued up the hill.

The young man holding Cappy was glad to see me, as he didn’t really seem very sure what to do with the creature he had captured. I led Cap around a few steps, looking to see that he seemed none the worse for wear, while the young man talked to me about looking out the window and seeing this saddled and bridled horse standing by the fence, where Marilyn’s horse had hustled over to see him.

“I was wondering if I should get on him and go looking for you or what, but Rick had seen him go by and told me he was going to look for you.” Oh my G*D. Are you really that stupid? You are afraid to even hold him, but you are going to get on a strange horse to go off looking for whoever he already just dislodged?!

“You really would not have wanted to do that; he is still really young and learning things. He actually unloaded me while I was trying to get on...” 

He held Cap for me as I swung aboard. I had not yet started riding him down the steep hill that led from my old house to the bottom lands where we rode, but I figured this was a fine day to start. Little blue flowers burst in my vision as I rode him down the road. I was tired and thirsty and a bit dizzy, but he needed to go to the end of the road and back. Unloading me does not get you out of work, buddy.