The One that got Away~The Last Ride ~ part 13

Ghost and I enjoyed several great rides in the arena that week. Again, he was fine under saddle, but that seemed to be the only time.

An empty hand could completely unnerve him. He did not want to be touched by hand any time, anywhere, on his body. I had never come up against this condition and had no idea how to address it.

Having been in the bodywork business, I knew there was a condition (now the name escapes me)

rare, but out there. Too much contact with the body could trigger a myriad of physiological symptoms, including severe headache and nausea. Massage could potentially cause an overload of the central nervous system, thus the resulting symptoms. I only encountered this in one client. That was enough.

Again, me looking for zebras instead of horses at the sound of hoof beats. I would prefer to think Ghost had some bizarre neurological disorder than think perhaps a hand represented pain and abuse. The latter far more likely.

Nothing worked. In fact, if I stayed in his space too long, he would sweat, blow and eventually send threatening warning signals. It was if he were telling me he did not want to hurt me, would try not to, but could only stand so much. Watching the struggle within this animal made it all the more heartbreaking. I had never witnessed such behavior. I decided I wasn't equipped to keep Ghost. I would take him back, but only after one last ride.

The day had been busy. By the time I was ready to ride, the arena was full of cattle and cowboys. I decided to ride in the pasture. With the sun hanging low there wasn't much daylight left anyway.

Ghost seemed edgy. As I lifted the saddle up to his broad back, he crow hopped sideways. Second throw I found horse and at this point he became calm. I didn't dare try any fun stuff. My pasture was too hard. We had been in a drought and the earth was packed and cracked ; hard as concrete. No slides or spins this evening. Just one more ride.

At the moment I hit the saddle, the fella north of us fired up his welder. BIG FLASH! then a scorched smell filled the air.

Ghost panicked. I never even found the right stirrup before the rodeo started. Ghost bucked and ran to the farthest fence line. Determined to unseat me. Luke saw the play day from the kitchen window and apparently came running.

Now, I must say, my nickname among my riding friends was, well, let's say Velcro Butt or VA for short. I have been bitten. I have been kicked. I have been stepped on. I have been knocked over. I do not come out of the saddle. Once I hit leather, I become screwed down. I have had horses stand straight up with me. One crazy, cutter did his best to unseat me; I won out. I am sorry. I do not fall off of horses. No, not me. I had not been dumped in years. Let me stress this point. I DO NOT fall off of horses. Period.

I was not afraid. I imagined he would have his bucking spell and calm down. Instead the situation escalated.

Once Ghost hit the fence line, he ran and bucked with a renewed fervor. Up the 5 acre fence line we raced. That right stirrup still evaded me. Still no fear, not within me anyway.

I have always known a frightened horse is far more dangerous than a mean horse. Those who understand horses know they are prey animals. Their first line of defense is flee. A response to their most primal DNA. Brain literally shuts down. The only message received is FLIGHT! Ghost was in this state.

We made it to the end of the fence line and I released an enormous sigh of relief. Without warning, he spun, two, three, maybe four rotations only to resume bucking and running back down the fence. His power was unbelievable! Still I felt no fear. "Ride it out, stay with him, screw down little girl!" John Walker in my head, with me, coaching me. I was still centered in the saddle, balance good, both reins in gloved hands. Just stay on, my thought echoing in my rattled head. To the end of the fence we arrived. A break from the bucking. Maybe the worst was over.

Oh no, more twirling then a solid bolt, like a race horse out of the gate. No bucking now. Ghost was traveling at full speed, neck stretched out, bearing down on an imaginary finish line.

I saw my opportunity. The good old emergency stop, riding lesson #101. At this speed I could not pull his head around too quickly. This would result in he possibly losing his balance, going down almost sideways, and probably landing on top of me. Not good. Instead I had to lean forward, grab the right rein, and ever so gently pull his head sideways, in an effort to slow him and gain some control. As soon as my seat left leather, I lost balance. I slid down his side, my right leg under his belly, my left leg across the seat of the saddle, my left hand clutching the saddle horn. Desperately, I attempted to pull myself back up. My hanging on his side had triggered even more fear in him and I felt greater speed released. His right front hoof pulling back amazingly close to my face. I found myself studying the bottom of his foot.

It was at this moment I realized I was in trouble. Every thing slowed to a crawl, just like in the movies. Happened remarkably like a scene from a movie. My thought process slowed as well.

I became aware of the close proximity of my head to the fence. I remembered as a child clothes pinning a playing card to bicycle spokes to create that whirling sound as the bike wheels spun.

I imagined my head making the same sound as I buzzed down the fence. Still, my thoughts were calm, experiencing an unheard of clarity. Thinking, "If I could remain this clear, I would never lose my car keys." My mind returned to the current situation. Options were running thin. " Let go and fall. Make sure you are not hung on anything. He'll drag you to death. How bad could it be? You're half way to the ground now. Let go." I released the horn and sent myself into free fall. My last thought," you're committed, no turning back now."

Awareness of landing on the back of my head and neck. Still, the calm remained. "Oh my neck!"

That thought I remember. Nothing else. Maybe knocked out for a few seconds.

My neighbors voice, distant, far off, "I'm calling 911!" Suddenly Luke answering, loudly, as if he were screaming in my ear, "Please hurry!" Why was he so loud??!!!! Oh, he was carrying me across the pasture. Had me cradled in his arms, like a rag doll. Screaming in my ear. "Put my ass down!!" Luke stopped. "Put me down, now!" He eased me to my feet where I promptly crumbled to the ground. Weak and lightheaded, yes, but I was okay. "No 911. I'm fine. Tell him not to call." My instructions were shouted over the fence. "She's okay, don't call."

My son squatted down on the ground beside me. " Mom, you sure you're okay?" "Yeah Luke, my head just got rang like a bell, that's all. Please help me back up." He took me under my arms and lifted. I found my legs on the second try and tried to jerk, like a broken toy across the pasture.

"Where are you going?!" Luke again. "I can't let him get away with that!!! Help me catch him and get back on him." " You are not gonna get near him!" My son, by my side, leading me in the opposite direction of the still loping Ghost. "Luke! I have to get my saddle. That's my good saddle. I have to catch him." Out of patience, my dear boy began to swear. "I'm gonna go get Dad." "NO!, NO!, please don't. I can't listen to him fussing at me right now. Please Luke, leave Dad outta this. I need to sit back down in the grass. Could you please get me some water? And don't you dare say one word to your Dad!"

He left the pasture to make his way back to the house. Ghost was still loping. What was he thinking? I wish I knew.

With iced water in tow, Luke returned, handing me the glass, taking a seat in the grass. My head was feeling a bit clearer. The water seemed to help, somehow. I rested a while longer in the pasture. Luke continued to ask if I was sure I was alright. I assured him I was just fine.

"Mom, that was a bad fall. I saw the whole thing. I just knew you had broken your neck. Then you rolled, ass over tea kettle about four times, then you laid out straight and rolled til you hit the fence. I was so scared!"

Yep, I definitely was knocked out for a few seconds. I don't remember hitting the fence or Luke picking me up. Probably looking at yet another concussion.

"I'm sorry I scared you so, Luke. I am gonna be fine though. Please don't worry." "I'm glad you are okay, Mom. How you gonna get your saddle?" My son a cowboy does not make. I took a deep sigh. "Guess I'll go up to the ropers, swallow my pride, and ask one of them to come down and help me. Lord, they will never let me live this down. Think my pride is hurt more than anything. Well, might as well get to it. Sure isn't gonna get any easier." Luke offered to make the walk up the long private drive. "Thanks, but I may as well start working the soreness out now." I grabbed my garden hat to hide my tangled, grass burred hair. No sense in looking like a wreck. I mumbled to myself, "Let's get this over with."