It’s a great feeling to hop aboard a favorite horse, particularly after a multi-month lay-up. This time, the lay-up was for me, as I recovered from a (non-horse-related) trail run injury. (Here's that story.) But we’re coming back. Today, I enjoyed my second ride, which was nice.
But there was one little snag.
It’s been a little nippy outside lately, but today was a lovely and unseasonably warm day for February in the Upper Midwest. It was the perfect day for a jaunt in the outdoor arena. (We actually had a very brief ride, as the mare and I both need some midwinter conditioning. But we did OK, while we were at it.)
The mare is a delight. She is sweet and generally gentle (OK, lazy). She’ll give some get-up-and-go, but I usually have to ask for it. (OK, I have to ASK for it.) She puts up with grooming and clipping. She stands for the vet and farrier like a pro. And she takes worming paste like a champ.
But she hates the girth. Cinching up (even gently and gradually) brings out the beast in her.
|Can you find it?|
We got through all that today without mishap. We strolled out of the barn, down the lane, and into the outdoor arena. I led her in-hand for a quiet lap around the fence line before approaching the mounting block.
Then it happened.
I looped the reins over her head and tugged a little on the saddle to check it before climbing aboard.
Snap. And ouch.
Now I have a rather sore temporary tattoo, shaped like an equine dental impression, in one arm.
The Bible talks about the “wounds of a friend.” I’m pretty sure that’s not what that means.
“Wounds from a sincere friend are better than many kisses from an enemy.” (Proverbs 27:6, NLT)
I should have known better, even with this trusted (and usually trustworthy) horsey friend. And I’m still going back tomorrow for more. It's a fair bet the mare will have horse kisses, rather than bites, next time. Especially if I give her a carrot to chew on, instead of me.
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