Saturday, November 26, 2011

Back In The Saddle, Again...

World, meet Blue.                       Blue, Meet World. 
{notice the hipstamatic hair do}

Remember how I told you I thought I was going to start riding again? And that I had a personal vendetta against this horse... Blue. Well, I grew some balls and got on him.... While my dad was there of course so he could keep him in line and give me pointers that I've long forgotten.  I'm glad I did. It helps having someone watch you and telling you how you can change... For example, I apparently like to choke the reigns {which frustrates and confuses the horse because he gets no relief from the bit after turning or doing what I say. And, then he's all WTF crazy lady... let up before I buck your fat butt off}

I wouldn't have realized it if someone hadn't been there to watch me and tell me. PLUS, my dad is a real live cowboy... as in... used to go on cattle drives regularly... in fact that's what he used Blue for, was for cuttin' cattle.

We didn't even trot. We walked and practiced his listening skills. He wanted to trot... but that crap was not happening. He was feeling me out to see who's boss. I won. 

 See him hanging his humble head in defeat? Maybe I'm imagining it.

He's camera shy. Or maybe tired from my fat mama booty weighing down on him. 

I know you probably want the juicy, yet humiliating {for me} details of Blue and I's former encounter. So for the sake of full disclosure {'cause that's how I roll}

Here we goooo...

It was Thanksgiving or Christmas a few years ago, and I decided I'd take 'ole Blue for a spin. Well, I hadn't planned it out ahead of time and was wearing flip flops {which came off}, and the stirrups were a little long and my dad didn't want to adjust them, since they were already set for him.

So, whatev, I hop on Blue and squeeze away with my child birthin' thighs. Well, Blue is devious... and smart, and conniving and demonic, and just WRONG.

He decided that before I had a tight grip, or, well, any grip on the reigns that he would just haul tail {that's pronounced haw tail} through the pasture. Not just through the pasture, but AROUND the fence line of the pasture, reeeeally close to the barbed wire fence.

 He was by no means going his fastest, but he had a good speed going and I've got nothing but a death grip with my fatigued floppy child birthin' thighs to hold me on... I seriously THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.  I was holding the reigns back up behind my head.... pulling as hard as I could, but of course, he couldn't feel a thing.

Why didn't I tighten them up you say?

Well, I WAS TRYING NOT TO DIE.

Seriously though, I was trying not to die.

These high speed loops around the 2-ish acre pasture went on for 5-10 minutes or an hour or five, in my mind.  Until finally, I stopped trying not to die, and grabbed the stinking reigns tight and yanked them as hard as I could and stopped him.

Man, I want to punch him in the face just thinking about it. He knew exactly what he was doing...

It was the opportune time, before I grabbed those reigns to just take the freak off. Smart beastly horse.

I have never been scared of a horse in my life. In fact, I've been thrown off, stepped on, shat on, slobbered on, bitten... etcetera. Never, ever, scared. Ever.

Stupid, horse.

Stupid, stupid, horse.

Ruined my freaking mojo.

Lousy horse.

So you see, I once again am not {consciously} scared of him, so... I'm going to tame that stubborn old horse and make him do I want.

Because.... I gave BIRTH. In a BATHTUB. With NO DRUGS. JERK. Beat that. I can tame a stubborn old horse!

OR. ELSE.

There you have it people. 

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