I’ll be honest – there’s not a whole lot that I remember about Misty. I can say one thing – you get what you pay for. My parents made purchasing Misty seem about as serious as purchasing your first house…a VERY expensive one. To the non-horse person, $1000 for a horse may seem like pure insanity. To the horse person, most will scoff and roll their eyes. We indeed got what we paid for. Nonetheless, I was in love with my new horse. My saddle was a 40+ year old, still in good condition but very out of style, borrowed western saddle from my great aunt. Mrs. Brenda (my trainer) had a way of making fun of the saddle when Colby was riding with us. She was determined for me to get a new saddle, and I think she knew that humiliating me in front of Colby was the best way to make it happen.
With my “well-priced” horse and borrowed saddle and bridle, I had dreams of riding Misty through the neighborhood (who needs a bike when you have a horse?), conquering the world together, and one day having my future kids learn to ride her. I promised her I would never ever sale her. Maybe we could say she sold herself.
I was very timid when I was young – timid at home, timid on the softball field, and timid at the barn. Misty was no dummy. She caught on within a few weeks that if she “spooked” (horse person term for when your horse gets scared and makes a move to get away from what scared it) and hopped sidewase inertia would keep me in the same place and therefore on the ground. Hence, FREEDOM!!!! Not only was I timid, but I believed in the greater good of Misty. I would have laid in front of an oncoming freight train for that mare, so whenever she was accused of not really spooking I was defiant. The poor girl is just scared!…of that leaf that turned over next to us, or maybe the plastic bag a mile away on the road we can’t even see. I don’t know what she was scared of, but my horse would never truly WANT me off. In my world, all animals loved me – especially my horse.
I don’t know how long I had Misty. I would guess around 9 months, but I truly have no idea. One beautiful summer day my friend and I mounted up and began our ride. We were high on the warmth and freedom of a Saturday afternoon and horses. We were living the dream. A few minutes into our ride I got hot and decided to take off my jacket. It was one of those really cool (in the early 90’s) wind jackets with bright colors that went “swish swish” really loud every time you moved (you know you or your mom had at least 3 wind suits). Misty found the loud swishing to be a perfect excuse to unseat me. She launched into a bucking spree while my friend watched from the sidelines – her eyes about popping out of her head. I can still remember, the mare was bucking BIG and I was scared, but I was still balanced and hanging on to the reins. Heather screamed, “Hold on!” so I thought, “maybe I should grab the saddle horn.” In the brief millisecond that I changed my hands from the reins to the saddle horn I lost my balance and was launched head first onto a concrete slab that was designed for parking the horse trailer. In those days the world didn’t wear helmets, so needless to say, neither did I.
Lesson for the Day: Where a helmet!!! Sometimes we learn the hard way!
Check back in a couple of days for the rest of the story 🙂
Soli Deo Gloria
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