Horses Are Never Wrong

Cara, a teenage equestrian, walked out to the barn with a smile on her face. The smell of horse poop, hay, and freshly plowed dirt greeted her. Perfect.

Her large chestnut mare, Whimsy, paced impatiently in her stall. The horse pinned her ears back upon her owner’s arrival.

“Hello to you too,” Cara remarked.

Cara prepared her horse swiftly and easily. Scrubbing off the dirt, placing the saddle pad, and lifting the saddle pad all were all motions of habit. Whimsy through her head into the bridle - she was eager to be ridden.

Side by side, Cara and her perpetually grumpy horse made the short walk to the arena. The sky was a bright blue with swirling clouds. Plush grass, which Whimsy made several attempts to graze, covered the ground outside the plowed arena. A gentle breeze swept through the seventy-five degree air. It was a marvelous spring day.

Cara started with their usual warm-up walk around the arena without a problem. When it came time to get to work, Cara squeezed her legs and asked Whimsy to trot.

Whimsy bucked.

Her head went down, her back legs went up, and Cara went flying.

Cara hit the ground head-first.

Her cheek slid into the dirt, followed by her shoulder, which pounded into the ground. Her knees slid awkwardly around her.

“Ah!” she cried out in pain.

Dirt flew from her mouth.

Cara jumped to her feet, though it caused every part of her to ache. She had to catch Whimsy.

She had to get back on.

She wanted to scream at her horse and hurt Whimsy for misbehaving so badly. Cara wanted more than anything to cry and yell and have a two-year-old fit.

Instead, she calmly caught her horse and remembered the single briar she’d found lodged in her girth. After calming Whimsy with a few small pets, she unhooked the girth and checked it again.

Three more briars had poked a sore into Whimsy’s stomach.

“Oh no,” Cara sighed. “I’m so sorry, Whimsy.”

That day, Cara learned two lessons. One - always practice thorough grooming before mounting your horse. Second - don’t ever let your anger get the best of you.

As her horse trainer always said, horses were rarely ever in the wrong.