Laura on Life
The truth about horseback riding
By Laura Snyder
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[November 11, 2009]
I always wanted a horse. When I was a little
girl, my Christmas list always included a horse. However, Santa
never brought me a horse. I always thought it was because I stuck my
tongue out at my brother or tweaked my sister's nose one too many
times. He would've seen that in his magic snowball or whatever he
used to spy on little kids. More likely, however, it was because a
horse would have seriously annoyed the other presents in his big red
bag... or possibly it was because he knew that my parents' half-acre
lot was not big enough to host a horse.
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I forgave Santa, but I never stopped wishing I had a horse. I went
horseback riding every chance I had after I started making my own
money, but after I married and had children, I realized that you
really can't take a baby horseback riding, even if you wear the baby
on your chest in a little snuggly bag. Babies bounce. That is why,
for the last 26 years, my backside had not been introduced to a
saddle. For 26 years I have allowed myself to fantasize about
galloping down a sandy beach, my hair flowing out behind me, the
wind stinging my cheeks... until yesterday.
Yesterday, my daughter and I had an opportunity to go horseback
riding. It was an all-day horse camp. My daughter has the same love
for horses that I had and we were both thrilled at the prospect of
being able to spend the day learning how to take care of horses and
trail-riding.
That was yesterday.
Today, every bone in my body is screaming for mercy. I have brush
burns on my thighs, bruises on my bum and I'm almost certain there
are blisters on parts of my body that have never seen the sun.
Today, I can't remember exactly what it was that I enjoyed about
bouncing around on the back of a bullheaded beastie.
The one I picked out was named Sunny. It was light-colored and
had kind eyes. I thought she would be a good horse to start with
after so many years. She turned out to be a he, however, and
contrary to his appellation, Sunny was decidedly not sunny. The kind
eyes were hiding a stubborn, ornery soul.
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Not to be sexist, but if I had known it was a male, I could've
predicted that the only thing he'd be interested in, after he had
been liberated from his testicles, is food.
At first, I spent nearly all my time trying to keep his head out
of the grass. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in stopping on the
way down a hill to have a little snack. I hung onto the back of my
saddle for fear of sliding down his neck. After a while I realized
that if I let him eat, preferably on flat areas, he would trot to
catch up while he was chewing. He was a multi-tasker. Unfortunately,
I didn't employ that wisdom until my arm muscles had sustained
considerable damage from trying to pull up his head.
Sunny the horse was definitely mad at the world and couldn't care
less what I wanted to do. And who could blame him? He'd been
imprisoned in a barn that stunk to high heaven. When he was taken
out, a human of significant weight would fling themselves on his
back, and he wasn't allowed to dine until he got back to the barn.
That's not even mentioning the fact that certain integral parts of
his anatomy had been stolen from him before he even had a chance to
enjoy them.
I felt a little sorry for him. That's one of the reasons I
allowed him to snack between trotting yesterday.
That was yesterday.
Today, I would cheerfully castrate that horse with a dull butter
knife if my sore, aching body would let me.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
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