When I was a kid, the fellow next door had a couple of Palomino's of his own, and he stabled a couple of other horses for "town people." He came over one day and asked my mother if I could help him exercise them. COULD I? PLEASE!! PLEASE!!...Well, my mother said it was OK.
Man it was great. Except for one thing. I had to ride an "English" saddle. It was better than no saddle, but it was hard to feel like Roy Rogers on that. It was comfortable though.
Did that for several years. Just about every day, especially during the summer. I'd help him saddle them up and we'd ride for a couple of hours. We made plans over and over to trailer the horses up "north" and ride the Appalachian Trail from one end to the other. I didn't even know what the Appalachian Trail was, but somehow I knew it was never going to happen. It didn't of course. We got up one morning and the old fellow was gone. I heard he skipped out to Mexico ahead of the IRS, but rather that was true or not, I have no idea. It didn't matter. That was about the end of my horse riding.
Got thrown one time. I was riding a blankety-blank Shetland Pony, bareback, with just a rope through a halter. That jughead decided he was going to the barn and he took off. I didn't really get "thrown" so much as I just fell off, but either way that dirt came up fast.
The last time I sat a horse, was my uncle's big thoroughbred "Red." He told me when I got on, "You just have to tap him with that whip if you want him to run." Well, I'd never put a whip to a horse in my life. I wasn't going to do it this time. Well, Uncle was right. That horse would canter, but never could get him to a gallop.
That's when I just brushed him with that whip.
You know that scene in "Star Wars" when they made the jump to light speed? The first time I saw that scene, I knew I had seen it once before.
When I put the whip to "Red."
I thought I'd never get that horse whoaed up.
