Part of working with horses on a daily basis is understanding that you cannot always control circumstances that involve a near-ton of weight on four fast-moving legs powered freely at the will of a flight-instinct animal. In other words, if you’re around them for any length of time, you’re probably going to be involved in horse wrecks.
I grew up with horses, and my first big scare came when my older sister saddled my horse and didn’t cinch up tight enough. We trailered to the pasture where the round-up was taking place, anticipating a long day’s drive with a frisky herd of cattle. I was five years old, and happy to be allowed along on this momentous day. We unloaded the horses, my Dad tossed me up into the saddle, and everyone trotted off towards the cattle. I remember hanging onto the saddle horn, trying not to bounce as faithful old Chigger trotted after the others. Before long, it seemed like we were going at a slant, and I think I yelled to my sisters for help. My saddle was on Chigger’s side when I kicked free and let go, falling just a few feet to the ground, safely to the side of my horse’s hooves.
That day could have turned out far worse, but for hearing a story told by my older siblings about a boy they went to school with. He had been in a similar situation and had held onto the saddle the entire time, ending up under the horse’s belly, and getting kicked repeatedly. His head injuries were severe and his brain was permanently damaged. It was remembering that story that told my five-year-old fingers to “LET GO!” Thank God I knew better than to hold on.
They say when you’re in sports or risky activities that you should “know how to fall”…but when you are half way through the air on your way down from a bucking horse, there just isn’t any right way to do it. I have fallen from a horse’s back at least fifty times in my life, and have never been hurt. A cactus in my arm, and a few stitches here or there, yes. But my bones and my brain survived, and that’s all I could ask for.
Take the day I rode my three-year-old mare Belle out to check water in the summer pastures. She was in training, but had been riding really well for awhile, so I rode out bareback for a five or six mile jaunt. We got along well for half the ride, then trotting up over a grassy hill, she spooked violently to the side, I slid off, and she kicked me as I fell, instinctively thinking I was something to be feared. Her hoof only glanced off the glasses I was wearing, and they cut a little gash on my forehead. Miles from home and unsure of my injuries, I limped after her, caught her up, and rode her the rest of the way home. A few stitches solved the problem, but that ride could have ended much worse.
These thoughts were prompted today by a story in our local paper. Over the fourth of July weekend, a parade in Bellevue, Nebraska was tragically interrupted by a runaway team of horses pulling a carriage with five passengers in it. One of the passengers was killed and over twenty-four people were injured, some very seriously. It all started when the standing horses began rubbing their heads together and one of the horse’s bridles fell off, which spooked them and they began to race through the crowd, continuing for several city blocks. The town was left in shock, their annual parade a shambles, and a heightened fear of horses in most everyone’s minds.
But just like other high-risk activities that bring joy and achievement to the lives of those who love them, horseback riding and owning horses will continue on. A casual observer might never understand a horse’s value, when reading these ill-fated stories. But we who know horses have found a place of happiness and forgiveness and the desire to learn from our mistakes and take all precautions to avoid injury. And I really think the more a person knows about a horse, the less likely they are to be hurt by it. One can never be fully in control of a horse, to the point of removing all danger. But one can be educated, wise, quick-thinking, and self-preserving when dealing with horses, and that’s a major goal of mine.
