Quick recap. I was just bucked head first onto a concrete slab and I’m laid writhing in pain. Heather is on her horse and my horse is free…
I laughed. Seriously! Misty had unseated me and knocked out my breath enough times that I had learned the pain seemed to go away when I just laugh it off. So I’m laughing and Heather runs over to me (I have no idea where the 2 horses were at this point) and screamed “Your head is bleeding!” By this point I had realized that the pain was not going to be laughed away, but I did tell Heather, “It’s not my head, it’s the rest of my body.” Literally, my entire body felt broken. Heather said again, “Your head is bleeding.” I then turned my head a bit to see drips of blood all over the concrete. Oh. She was right. As the excitement began to wear off Heather said, “it sounded like you laughed,” and through the pain I just looked at her like she was crazy. Why would someone laugh after being bucked onto a slab of concrete?!
My mom took me to the local medical center where they stitched up my head and xrayed my entire body. I was fine, and the soreness wore away after about 2 weeks (or 3 or 4).
When I did return to the barn, I’m not sure that I ever rode Misty again. The incident was what my parents needed to break down and get me a more suitable horse. It was a tough reality for me to finally come to terms that my horse didn’t love me enough to lay down in front of a train for me. In fact, she would probably have thrown me in front of a train if it would have gotten her out of working. I had also promised Misty that I would never ever sell her. I still carry that guilt of breaking a promise. Mrs. Brenda worked out a trade with my parents and I ended up with “Stride For Me Henry” – an adorable former racing Quarter Horse. Misty hung around the barn for a couple more months where I watched Mrs. Brenda put her through “boot camp.” I still remember seeing Misty spook with Mrs. Brenda and Mrs. Brenda laid into her. She didn’t spook again. They had been right all along – Misty was faking it to get out of work.
Mrs. Brenda did a lot of her horse business at the local livestock sales. She always took us (the girls at the barn) with her, so I was there the day Misty found a new home. Heather rode her during the auction – Heather was probably 14 at the time and had been riding for years. Of course, the people at the auction didn’t know that so when they saw a 14 year old girl ride Misty flawlessly, people were bidding like crazy. Someone Mrs. Brenda knew bought her. She resold her a few months later. I still have the vision in my head of Misty standing in the sale pen as we drove away. She was in the end stall so we could see her all the way down the driveway. She stood in the pen staring into the gaping wound of my heart. I felt like she was saying, “you promised to never sell me.” The only comfort I had was someone told me grey horses didn’t go to slaughter -something about their skin (it’s more likely to develop melanomas and stuff). It was probably just a lie to comfort my 12 year old broken heart – do me a favor and don’t tell me either way.
I learned my lesson with Misty, and have only promised one other horse in my life that I would never sell him. I was able to keep the promise, and you’ll learn about him later.
Lesson for the Day: Only make promises you can keep.
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