Well my first horse was a nutcase Appaloosa by the name of "Step Aside Clyde" or Charlie as he was affectionately called. He was so full of spirit. I loved that horse and he gave me the glue in my seat. But before that glue completely took hold we had some doozies.
One time we were going up a hill and Charlie decided in his usual hard-headed Appaloosa fashion that he didn't want to go up the hill anymore. So he tried turning to go down the hill while I fought with him to continue. He reared since that was his typical response and came down on top of a very thorny manzanita bush. He then reared again only this time we were facing back up the hill rather than to the side...he lost his footing and we rolled together down the hill. Once at the bottem he stood up. Luckily my feet were not stuck in the stirrups because once he realized I wasn't on top of him anymore he took off for home...FIVE MILES AWAY!
Another time he reared because we were on pavement and I wasn't allowing him to run. His feet slipped out from under him and we went down on his side. That time my leg was pinned under him. He lay there and quivered for a couple of minutes. When he got his feet under him I held onto the horn and stayed on his back while he got to his feet so I didn't have the long walk back home that time.
Another time at a show I had just won a blue ribbon on Charlie in Bareback Equitation. We were back at the van saddling up for the next event when the mare beside us started kicking the side of the van. I turned to see what was going on just as she turned her butt. I got it with two hooves right in the gut. I went down like a rock gasping for air. My mom and boyfriend were freaking out. Charlie kept trying to get to me while I was lying on the ground. I hadn't tied him since he would ground tie so well at a show. He became very frustrated at all the people trying to keep him away from me. Eventually the ambulance came. The only reason I didn't have a ruptured spleen was because my large silver western belt buckle took the brunt of the kick.
But the most heroic time for Charlie was one summer day. We were lazing around the area where the stable was. I had bathed him for the show the next day and we were just walking around relaxing. I was riding barefoot and bareback with a hackamore on him. We went past a neighbors house who bred Rottweilers. She hadn't secured the stud or two of the females. They saw us and came running down the road and attacked. Charlie protected me. He never kicked with both feet. He didn't bolt and run. He had been bred on a range in Idaho and hadn't been gelded until he was a 3 year old so he had some smarts about him. He tried to fight them off by circling, striking with one hoof at a time and trying to bite them. A man saw the commotion and stopped. He apparently knew Karate and was able to kick the stud dog in the ribs and send him rolling. The two females had been restrained by the owner by this time. Poor Charlie had a torn up muzzle, and his haunches had numerous bite wounds upon them. I hadn't been bitten at all. I had pulled up my feet and rode like a jockey, giving him his head to do what he needed to do. I loved that horse.
I have been bitten, kicked, stepped on, thrown, rolled over on and knocked down by horses. I still love them and always will.
Denyce
ps....you should NEVER EVER purposely run down a hill on a horse. It is a very easy way to shatter one of their legs...one simple misstep and you are a goner and the horse could be dead or have to be destroyed. The forward momentum of running down a hill is too strong. You should ALWAYS walk slowly down a hill while leaning back in your saddle.
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