Freedom

Majestic animals, horses are symbolic of a lot of things, the are huge, I am terrified. I can pet them, behind a fence. I think they are beautiful, I used to go to the CNE as a kid and always went to see the Clydesdale horses! I went for a pony ride at a local park, I have ridden a camel and an elephant! There are always horse people, they know stuff about them, maybe a family member has one, not so much in the city. My husband had one when he lived in the outskirts of Toronto, he thought that would be a bonus for him, but I was impartial.

One of our first adventures pre marriage was horseback riding! There was a lovely green belt that had trail rides. We had already been camping, fishing, boating, travelled into caves, lakes and hiked a plenty. As city slickers, we were always out for adventure. We arrived at this lovely establishment, were we got to meet our impressive trail mates, pat their pretty faces and feed them long grass. Then you go up this ramp and sign a paper saying the company was not responsible for your death or any injury. Proceed along and the incline allows you to get on the horse without trying from the ground. My horse was kinda bucky and hubby’s was kind of nippy, really, because his was behind mine nipping, made mine bucky! I was eighteen, had no fears, and more laid back then.

The first leg of the journey was down a steep hill, he was bucky, but he was sure footed. I am not sure how high you are when you are on a horse, probably adding your torso on their back… like six feet? It was a little intense. At the bottom was a nice trail, hubby and I were near the back of the procession trotting along. Our trail leader suggested, we all take it to a canter heading to a meadow, where we would all take a nice break. We cantered, Bucky said, “No, I will gallop and race all you guys to the meadow, and win the race!” Bucky was winning, I was screaming, the trail leader raced after me, yelling for me to pull the reins and stop. Now I haven’t told you the sled story that ended with me into a tree, so ropes and I don’t mesh well! Above all of it, I heard my husband yell, “Jump!” Bucky was confused, he was doing weird things with his feet, and I let go of the ropes, put my legs on the one side and jumped, you know what Bucky did within a heartbeat of my jump? He stop, drop and rolled! I did not get back on the horse, the trail leader gave me the lead horse, she took hubby’s biter and asked hubby to ride Bucky back.

I didn’t give up on horses that trip, there was another that was after we were married and had kids. It was a wagon ride for a birthday party with my girls when they were two and four. Clydesdales pulling the wagon upset into the ditch, pitching us all in different directions, had PTSD for years going around curves in the road. We were all very lucky! The tipping motion stayed with us. About a month after it happened we went and watched Santa jump out of a plane at a local mall. Myself and two other moms in attendance on the wagon, panicked when we looked up to watch the jump, the three of us dived for cover, trying to get into the car. I think it triggered the tipping memory when we were looking up. I have successfully been on a sleigh ride and short wagon ride since, but with my legs hanging out, at the back, ready to jump. Spectacular animals, just not for me.