Hello, it’s me again, Savi, aka Miss Bratty Pants. I think I figured out where Mom gets that nickname from. I already know that “Brat” means “I love you”. I don’t wear pants, but I do have a pretty little spot on my rump, so “Miss Bratty Pants” must mean “I love you my little girl with the beautiful white crescent moon on her rear.” Bratty Pants is so much easier to say!
I am writing another post because I have something on my mind that has been bothering me for over a week. The worst possible thing that could happen to a trusty steed happened to me last Monday.
The evening started normally enough. I heard the car come up the driveway and I knew it was Mom, but I ignored her like I always do. She went over to the barn, but she took longer than usual. Hopefully she didn’t catch me checking over my shoulder to see where she was. I decided I was going to behave so I followed her into the barn without a fuss. I glanced around and saw that the grooming brushes and my new saddle were out, but no one else was in the barn. Lindsay was out in the riding ring with Maddy and her girl giving them a lesson. Maddy and I don’t go out on the trails together. For some reason she doesn’t seem to like me. Since no one else was around I knew we were riding in the ring tonight.
We did our usual warm up routine: stretching, bending, tightening of the saddle and a check of everything. We did a couple of laps around the ring at a walk and one at a trot. Then Mom dismounted and led me to the gate. I was amazed! That was the shortest ride and easiest earned carrot ever! Or so I thought, until mom mounted again and urged me down the hill. I didn’t want to go. There was no one else with me! No one to talk to… no one to warn me of dangers I couldn’t see. I know there are monsters out there. I have seen them. They have red, glowing eyes and huge fangs dripping with saliva, waiting to feast on beautiful, young horses such as myself… and oh the sound they make is horrifying!!!! Mom calls them squirrels. Even the name strikes fear into my heart!
I told Mom I didn’t want to go down the hill, but she made me go anyway. I tried to resist going across the parking lot where I know the squirrels lie in wait, but again she forced me to go. I side stepped going through the gate and down the hill by the bike park. I managed to turn around and make it half way back up the hill twice, but I couldn’t see where I was going because Mom kept my head turned in to her knee. I finally gave in. We rounded the first turn and my anxiety started to melt away. I was trotting on the grass. I don’t know why Mom doesn’t like me on the side of the trail. It feels so much better on my feet. When Mom asked me to move over, I ignored her. She wasn’t trying to hold me back so I started to run faster. I was just starting to canter when I tripped over a lump of grass. I caught myself and kept going but something didn’t feel right with Mom. She was pulling me back onto the gravel and signalling me to stop. I felt all of the weight come out of the saddle as I skidded to a stop. I heard a loud thump, a soft groan and a lot of cracking and snapping. I didn’t know gravel made than kind of noise. The only other sounds I heard were my own breathing as I tried to calm myself, and a couple of monsters off in the distance. Were they laughing at me?
There I stood, looking down into Mom’s face. She was flat on her back, her head close to my toes and her feet in the middle of the trail, my reins still in her hand. At first she didn’t move. I was so worried! All I could think was “I am so sorry Mom, please be OK”. Then she looked up at me, rolled over and stood up slowly. I was so relieved. I thought for sure I was in big trouble. I held my breath and awaited my punishment. Mom walked over to my side and stroked my neck as she quietly talked to me. She assured me it wasn’t my fault, although I knew it was. I should have listened to her. She said “That was fun Savi, but let’s not do it again, OK?” I agreed.
With Mom back in the saddle we continued on in a slow trot. I was feeling quite relaxed now. I perked my ears forward as I took in my surroundings. The scenery was beautiful and the air smelled so sweet. As we rounded the next turn and started up the hill, I eased into a canter, making sure Mom was Ok this time. I made sure I stayed on the gravel and listened to what Mom asked of me. And then I was galloping up the hill. I felt so free as the wind whipped through my mane an tail. It was exhilarating. I slowed back to a canter as we neared the top of the hill and then as I tired, a trot. By the time reached the pavement I was ready to walk. I felt Mom switch the reins to one hand. I paid close attention to the touch of the rein on my neck. It is much nicer than the pull of the bit on my mouth. Maybe I will start paying closer attention to Mom more often… I will think about that…
Mom removed my saddle back at the barn, brushed me and turned me back out with my friends, but before she let me go she gave me the biggest carrot I have ever seen!. She really does love me and I am so glad she is OK, but I think she may need Lindsey to fix her like she did me. She wasn’t walking so well on her way to the car.