Getting Back on the Horse.

Let's be honest. I love Patrick Swayze. I loved him since I first watched him in Dirty Dancing. Swayze is great! Well, was. May he R.I.P. Anyways, Swayze was the total package. He could sing, dance, work out, and defend my honor. However, there was one thing we would of had issues with. Patrick loved horses. Loved is an understatement. He was obsessed. See for yourself.

Vomit. Goodness, I hate horses. Heinous, heinous, horses. When I was 5, my mom used to take my sister and I riding every now and then. I always got stuck on the pony named Abby. Coincidence? I think not. They did it on purpose. 

"Oh, how cute! They have the same name!" Eh, not that cute. But, whatever.

When I was 13, my family went riding again. This time we went to Seneca Rocks. Seneca Rocks is a huge rock formation in WV. Just straight up a mountain

. Each horse was sized to our body. After waiting patiently, I got a horse named "Earkle." Yeah, it was at this time, I missed my faithful pony Abby. Everytime I looked at Earkle, I pictured Steve Earkle.

Earkle was a spunky little guy. He was full of life and seemed pretty fun. So, up the mountain we went. My family, another family, and the tour guide. It was fall outside and the leaves were breath taking. I remember I had on my red GUESS sweatshirt, jeans, my favorite white sneaks, and my hair back in a pony with my super cute bangs across my forehead. My braces just glistening in the sun. Why I remember my outfit? I don't know. Perhaps it was because it was the outfit I almost died in.

The ride was peaceful. The breeze was blowing, life was grand. Then out of nowhere Earkle halted. Really? I figured he had to do his business. So, I waited patiently. After  5 minutes, nothing happened.

"Excuse me please, tour guide, Earkle won't move. How do I get him to move?"

The tour guide gave me the instructions and I tried them as told. Nothing. The tour guide began to circle around and get me. Now, my dad was right behind me. His horse was waiting patiently. As the tour guide got close to me and my horse. Earkle wound up his back foot, kicked my dad's horse and took off running..up the mountain.

The trail up the mountain was narrow. It barely fit one horse, let alone two. Did this stop Earkle? Nope. We ran like the wind. His mane flying, my bangs flapping. I latched on.  Maybe if I was in a western running from indians, this would have been a cool expereince. But, oh wait, this was real life. Therefore, not a cool experience. I was grabbing the reins and pulling with all my might. Finally, Earkle halted, just as tears began to fall from my eyes. First small, then sobs. 10 minutes later, the tour guide reached us with the rest of the pack.

"Everything ok up here?" He asked. One look at my face and he knew the answer to that.

"Sometimes he is a runner, but he always gets the rider back safe. You will be fine," He said trying to comfort me. Didn't work.

Somehow I just had this image in my head of the news  headline that night being,  "Girl dies on what tour guide claimed to be the 'safest horse alive' Then a picture of me with my bangs and braces mounted on Earkle would flash across the screen.

When a 1,000 lb creatures runs up a mountain with you on its back, the last thing you believe is that he will get you back to safety. Maybe the safety of heaven, but that's it.

"Let's try this again, honey. We will take it nice and slow this time." The tour guide told me.

So, we began again.

And you know what happened? Not the same thing. 

No, THIS time, Earkle kicked the tour guide's horse instead of my dad's , and then took off up the mountain once more. All the way to the top we went. His mane going strong, my bangs flapping strong. When Earkle halted, we were at the top of mountain. I was hysterical.

I once heard horses can sense fear. Well, if this was true of Earkle, he would have known I was near a heart attack. So either he ignored his senses, or he loved scaring small children. I vote the second.

25 minutes later, the rest of the tour group reached the top. By this point I probably could have hyperventalated. I had imagined everything that could go wrong next. I had visions of Earkle and I tumbling off the cliff together. I pictured Earkle tossing my around like his chew toy. I pictured death, and I welcomed it.

Despite my hysterical crying and my mother's attempts to trade me horses, nothing could be done. The horses were fitted for your weight and I was stuck with Earkle. So, down the mountain we went. And guess what?

My trip down the mountain was similar to the trip up. Once again, Earkle got crazy. Let's just say I made it to the bottom 30 minuts before the rest of clan of riders.

When I dismounted my horse, I wanted to kiss the ground. Seriously. I was grouchy. My family laughed, I cried. 

From this day on, I have hated on horses. Some say I hate these creatures because I find spines disgusting and well, you have to ride horses's spine. Others say I hate horses because I have not given them a fair chance. I say, I just hate horses because I can. People call these creatures "Majestic", I call them heinous. It is just how it is and always will be. 

My dad always tells me, "Abby, you just need to get back on the horse! Literally"

Yeah, dad. Right after I walk on the moon, the sky turns green, and pigs fly. 

After interning this week, I had the chance to get back on the horse. Well, I really had no choice. It is part of my job. My first time back on I was pretending I had cerbral palsy so others could learn how to help me mount the horse. So, my frist time back atop the horse, I was laying down. Not ideal. 4 people had to hold me on. Dramatic? A little. 

However, I took note of the therapeutic benefits a horse can have. It is something that is truly amazing.  Getting back on the horse was scary for me, let's be honest. But, it was good. Sometimes we have to conquer our fears, even when we don't want to.  I admire horses for the work they do. And I admire the people that know how to utilize a horses therapeutic abilities to help another individual. But, it's not my thing. Til the day I die...

I will hate horses.