Steaming Hot Humble Pie

Today, it finally happened.  The thing no rider enjoys; the thing we brag about in multiple ways, but yet the thing no one secretly wants to experience. I got bucked off.   It's been many a'moon since I have ridden Air Eject and got reminded that gravity is a cruel and unrelenting mistress.  It's true what they say about falling off after having a kid; after some thoughts that would concern PETA mid air, as I shmucked the ground all that was going through my head was Eowynn and getting myself clear of Sierra's feet for her sake.  It was a scary moment.

After not being able to ride for over a week, the stars aligned and I had my opportunity.  The last few rides were just working on neckrope training in Sierra's paddock, and it had been some time since I had tacked her up and ventured into the field.  She has been an absolute ball of nerves since returning home and the slow work was good for both of us.  I feel like I had some serious kissing up to do after sending her away, and I think we both really enjoyed the bridleless training for funsies. For some reason, today I had a temporary lapse in judgement and decided to immediately head out to the field like I was riding a trusty ol' trail pony.

I grabbed Sierra and tied her up while chatting with my friend and boarder, who was just on her way out.  Sierra was a bit amped up, and we joked that perhaps I shouldn't ride.  The "He's fresh, cancel my lesson" meme came to mind, and yet I carried on anyway.  As C left, I grabbed my western saddle, boots, helmet, gloves and stuffed my pocket full of cookies.  It was a gorgeous bluebird day, while the mercury sat around -10C.  I swung a leg over, gave Sierra a treat and headed out to the field.  Her paddock has a gate that connects to it for easy access, and she walked off like a sluggish lesson horse, but quickly perked up as we entered the field.  There was fresh snow since our last ride, and Sierra continually tried to turn around but a steady leg comforted her forward.  As we approached the ditch, we went over the culverted hill that allows for better drainage through our property, and she began to act particularly silly; probably the silliest she has been at home for me.  Suddenly my brain kicked back into gear, and I realized that I was making a stupid decision. We worked on some halts while I gave her cookies and treats, then worked our way back towards the barn/paddock.  

Before she left, my friend/boarder told me I looked great and called me a "Hot Tamale". Guess it went to my head.

Once we arrived back at the gate to her paddock, I stopped her and felt utterly defeated.  Maybe bringing her home was a mistake; I'm over this game.  Maybe she's just got my number, or maybe she just needs to go for a good run.  Maybe I should turn her out and not touch her again until the spring.  But then what would I have to look forward to? What would keep me sane as I sit inside 24/7 raising a tiny human?  What would get me outside and give me some exercise?

I decided we weren't done just yet, so we got to work on some circles in the field near Sierra's paddock.  She started off pretty displeased, and was throwing some serious shade my way.  She began to settle in the walk, so I decided to push my luck and ask for a little trot.  After a few circles, she settled a bit and gave me some lovely moments, which were immediately followed by attitude.  I lost count of how many times she shook her head, followed by a crow hop or tiny buck.  She then began to work a little better again, and got a lot of praise.  Once we began to trot she rooted a few times - something she's never done.  I typically just ride in her side pull and have zero core strength due to having a baby, but after two or three times I was better prepared and rode with a little more positive tension in my body.  We did two more circles, but each time we got near her paddock she gave me some sass so I decided I just wanted to go past her paddock area without any attitude.  Things were getting better and better, until they weren't.

Right as we passed her paddock on what I had hoped would be our final circle before getting off, she exploded.  I'm not talking a pathetic little buck, or a crowhop. Even in my post partum condition, those don't even unseat me.  This was violent and with purpose. She had enough, and she was dumping me at any cost.  

I know Sierra pretty damn well, and I have seen her pull this shit with other people - but she's never, ever done it with me. She's bucked, but not like this.  She wasn't going to stop for anything, and she did more than just buck.

As we passed her paddock, she rooted hard and bucked even harder - by far the hardest she's ever bucked with me.  As she came down, she then leaped forward - like literally leaped like a bounding deer.  She then planted her feet, bucked hard again and reared straight up.  I wrapped my arms around her neck, and she came down fast and hard, slamming my face into her neck, then took full advantage of my disadvantage and threw in an other hard buck for good measure.  As my face kissed her mane, I considered trying to save it. If I could just get my feet under me, I could ride this out; I could regain control and get her in a circle. I could win this battle; but the final buck came too soon and I admitted defeat; I bailed off her left side and landed on my left hip in the snow. I remember thinking of Eowynn as I met my match, and desperately wanted to get clear of Sierra's wicked feet. I rolled to my right and onto my hands and knees, ready to jump out of the way more if needed.  The sound of thundering hooves had stopped, and as I gasped for my breath, staring down at the snow, I recognized what had just happened.

In that moment, I wished I had big honkin' rowl spurs so I could have spurred the hide right off of her. I wished she had a big heavy shanked bit so I could knock her teeth out, and if nothing else I had hoped I had a Dressage whip so I could spank her so hard I'd leave welts. I was fuming... for a second.

I figured Sierra was long gone.  She's wanted nothing more than to go see her buddies in the other pasture.  She was finally free in a wide open field, and had the perfect opportunity to kick up her heels, give me a real F-You and get gone.. but as I looked up with tears welling in my eyes, she was standing there staring at me.  I stat back on my heels, and we stared at each other.  It wasn't one of those hallmark moments where she felt bad and got scared. She wasn't misunderstood, or injured in a past life; it was far more than that. She was looking down at me from 10 feet away, knowing full well what she had done and owning every minute of it.  Was she bad? Absolutely yes. Did I deserve it? Also probably yes.

She gave me ample warning. The head tosses, small bucks and crow hops were just the beginning. She was rooting to see if she had enough control over her own head to get it down to buck hard.  She was methodical in the entire process, and guess what - she didn't get in trouble for it.  It was dirty, but she warned me so many times I lost count.  I didn't listen to what she was trying to tell me.

No, I don't think she's in pain. No, I don't think it was the saddle. No, I don't think it's ulcers or the way the wind was blowing.  Yes, I would love to come up with a list of excuses and someone to blame but ultimately, I blame myself and I got what I was owed.

Once I got back to my feet and ensured I was in one piece, I grabbed Sierra and gave her a pat. I considered calling my husband to come get on her for me, but I knew I could do this - I needed to do this.  We walked back to her paddock where my mounting block was, and I got back on.  I immediately marched her back to where the incident happened, and walked a few circles before stopping her, giving her a pat and a cookie, and walking back to her paddock.  As if I hadn't pushed my luck enough that day, I closed the gate to the field and stripped her tack; all but the reins.  I took her back to the mounting block, and decided to get back on sans tack.  As we walked around and practiced some halts, I told her I loved her and that I understood. I apologized for sending her away, and for temporarily giving up.  I told her I deserved it, but that's it - we're even and it won't be happening again if she wants to stick around.  Then I gave her another cookie and got off.

As I write this I'm soaking in a hot epsom salt bath, licking my wounds (literally), and reflecting.  Trust is crucial in a relationship, but at the end of the day so is respect.  They're 1,000+ pound animals with a mind of their own and they're capable of memory and emotion.  If you don't listen to your gut, at least listen to your horse.

Atleast Eowynn basically already wrecked my stomach.

My ego is a little bruised, but for the most part I'm fine.  I have a fat lip and some cuts and road rash on my belly from the saddle. My vest got hooked over the horn as I came off, which tore it straight down the seam. Somehow my shirt also got torn.  Really, I'm most sad about my vest in this entire situation. I loved that vest, but it's better than getting hung up so ultimately, I'm grateful it tore.