As I was saying...

It was bound to happen.

I had it in my head, given all the good signs we'd had recently that I would be able to get up on Mikey. He'd shown no aggression or even antsiness the last while and seemed eager to have me do things with him.

Even on Sunday, when we arrived and the boys came up to the gate for pets and cuddles, when I whispered to him that I was going to ride him, he took himself off to where we usually saddle up. I laughed and pointed it out to D. "I think he really understood me." D agreed and we unloaded the saddles and other tack and the girls and I ran off to do an errand before riding.

Darling Son and his g/f had come out to do some riding. She claims a lot of riding experience and since MY experience with horses makes me wary of anyone that goes around claiming they are 'an experienced rider', I limited her to Jack to avoid any drastic proof to the contrary. Son got up on Mel and it was comical as Mel put on his 'I'm stubborn I can't hear you' ears and stood around a lot.

Son hadn't seen the horses yet, and thought Mikey was the nicest looking of the bunch. :) His tastes (in horses and MOST other things (with a couple of notable exceptions) usually jibes with mine so I wasn't too surprised. DD#1 has it bad for palaminos, and DD#2 isn't into horses anymore after getting dumped rather soundly by Cricket. B and L are into the sorrels and chestnuts, although L has shown interest in a lovely blood bay filly that Carol has bred. A full sister to Jack, by the way, so maybe her taste will change. B's interest in sorrels might well be because Jack is such a sweetheart of a horse.

L was all cute on the phone, talking to her big brother. "You can use my horse," she intoned in that matter of fact, yes I do own the world voice of a 6 year old, "but you can't be rough with him. He's a good boy and if you ride him right he'll behave." Mel's take though, is the harder you work at making him GO, the less likely he will be to do so.

Anyhow, back to the Mikey incident. I got Jack and Mel saddled and Son and G/F up. Turns out she's not too bad on a horse. A little rusty and no idea of schooling or how to train, but would make a decent miler. Son had fun with Mel, although eventually he did get a trot out of him.

Mikey seemed a bit on edge when I saddled him, but I put that down to the green grass they'd been turned out on. (Nice, that it was done, but I do wish they'd ask us first. We sort of wanted to keep him on the low side of energetic :P and he's an easy keeper so really wasn't in need of the greenery.) Still, I was visualizing and all confident as I saddled and bridled him. He took the bit with his usual gentleman attitude and although he twitched a bit with the pad I really didn't think too much of it. Till later of course. Hindsight, thy name is truth.

I led him around and he seemed okay. I shifted the saddle back, making sure nothing was pinching and yet there was a tenseness about him. Still, nothing I can't deal with I thought. Off we went to the small corral. You know, the one with the slab fence. The slab fence just like the ones they use at feedlots. You know, where he'd been injured, and had that whole 'we'll ride him till we buck him out' episode where he went through one of those slab fences? However, that's where I'd tried to mount him before and he'd seemed ready to take me, so it didn't cross my mind. Until later. See above note regarding hindsight.

I discouraged son from leaning on the gate and watching me. Mikey had been bucked out and 'watched' a few times so I was trying to avoid any of the 'tells' that he'd dealt with before. I guess I forgot about the slab fences at feedlots. Sigh.

I placed my stool and he stood, as always, but as I put my foot in the stirrup and started to shift my weight to his back he trembled and bunched. I stepped off, but the stool wasn't solid in the ground and I overbalanced, falling back on my ass.

I had him facing into a chute and that's probably what spooked him as well as the slab fence. He hunched and popped, reared up and pivoted and there I was sprawled out on the ground pretty much under him. It's an awesome sight, let me tell you. But one I'll gladly not repeat. He pivoted as far as he could, I could see the muscles in his hind legs straining and the twist of his fetlocks. I'm not sure that he looked down at me, but I know he knew I was there.

I rolled, it probably all happened in an instant, he came down, despite seeming to have hung suspended in mid air till I could get around to moving, and his front hoof caught my thigh as he came down. Pinching it rather than slamming down on it, which probably saved me from a broken femur, but leaving a very good simulation of the old charlie horse, not to mention the flower bloom of a bruise that is just now starting to green and yellow at the edges. He bucked away past me. I think I felt the wind of his hooves on my cheek as I continued to roll up against the fence, but that could be the drama quee... er storyteller in me.

By the time I scrambled to my feet he'd bucked across the corral, reared and hung again, trembling then bucked again. D was on the other side of the gate, hands up, calling out to him to Whoa! Even though he respects that I need to do this myself he's always watchful and he was soothing him by voice already as I got to my feet. I threw up my arm, as I really had no wish to be trampled by him darting across the corral after that narrow escape and he came to a halt, head down, blowing, then off he went again. He bucked past me, banging up against the fence and finally stood blowing and snorting, trembling from hoof to ears. Slowly we approached him and managed to get the reins over his ears.

He stood there, trembling and all I could think was 'he thinks he's going to be beaten and he's going to hurt anyone who tries.' That is probably the saddest thing I've ever seen a horse doing. Even a cast horse, or one down with colic isn't quite so shorn of its dignity as one trembling with the anticipation of a beating. *sigh*

My heart cried for him. I stroked his poll softly, slow, easy strokes till his snorting softened and the tenseness eased ever so little. I leaned down and blew in his nostrils and he almost ducked his head, but then sniffed at my scent and the trembling eased a little more. "I still trust you," I told him, stroking the outline of his blaze with my fingers and his ears twitched, head lowering into the caress.

He was still quite spooked, and never really calmed down the rest of the time we were there. D was going to try to mount him but he was still too nervous, trembling and shifting his weight when he tugged on the saddle. He did rest his knee in the stirrup and lean his weight and although that went alright, we're still back to word go, again.

More ponying, more lounging, maybe some driving from the ground, and hopefully a deep snowfall at some point where I can wear him out enough to ride the buck out of him. He's still an eloquent equine, I'm just having a little trouble with the dialect but I'm confident we'll find a common language soon enough.