My Guardian

 My guardian, Rosie, flew right above me. Her hair whipped in the wind. Her eyes shifted from me to my horse every few seconds. I ignored her. Frank (my dapple gray, Angelo Arab, Morgan cross rescue) and I felt like we were flying. 
Even though Rosie had kept warning me today about getting hurt, I refused to listen. While I normally heeded every word uttered from her mouth, today was different. Today I was riding. All of the pain and anxiety lifted from my mind, I was free. Here I felt safe. Frank would protect me. I knew it. 
We cantered around the arena and I took a moment to look into Rosie’s eyes. The color was ever-shifting, matching her mood (and mine) perfectly. 

Her hair was also always different colors. This time though, it changed with the lighting. She was beautiful but only beautiful to those who looked at her. Her beauty was in the eye of the beholder. She was looking at me now, following me like a hawk. I knew she was nervous from the way she was fiddling with her wings. (Although technically she can float/fly without wings, c’mon, who doesn’t like a nice pair of flappers?) I knew she was about to catch me if I fell. She had told me earlier that day that she had sensed something bad about me riding today. Unlike my normal self, I didn’t listen. I wasn’t going to. This was my Frank time. She wasn’t going to take that away from me. “If I get hurt, I get hurt.” I had told her. And now as Frank and I zoomed around the arena working on balance and structure, I knew it was the right decision. 
He needed the exercise anyway. I had to lunge him for a good 20 minutes before he stopped bucking like a bronco. (Authors note: While I don’t support rodeos and I DEFINITELY don’t support the bucking bronco act (horses are given a flank strap that pinches them in a sensitive area so they buck and often times people harshly use spurs and other uncomfortable equipment to force them to buck) It is a good metaphor because horses tend to go a little crazy if they haven't been ridden in a while) 
We put up a simple jump combination to help him work on some leg muscle, and that’s when it all went down.  Frank was trying his hardest. I’ll give him that much. He was working his butt off to get over those jumps. But he’s always been a spooky horse. Some of it comes from being abused, some comes from being a mix of two very fresh breeds. (Thoroughbred and Arabian) I was so excited. Frank had done a great job so far and he was being an absolute angel. But, of course, something had to happen. The lights dimmed. Sometimes they did that, it was completely normal. But what wasn’t normal was Rosie hanging on my tail. As soon as they dimmed, she flashed a bright light to try and make everything light again. She didn’t know I was okay with the dimming lights. As soon as she flashed, my attention drifted from the jump ahead to the flashing guardian angel. 
Unfortunately, Frank is very forward. Too forward. As my attention drifted, my hands and legs and seat position changed and he got confused. Instead of slowing down and going steady, he galloped ahead and, before I could reposition myself, launched over the jump. To go over a jump, the rider must go into a specific position called 2 point position, or jumping position. It is a very meticulous position that takes years to master. The idea is that you are getting your body out of the way so the horse can leap without being off balance and uncomfortable. You push your entire body into your heels, stick your butt back and lean with your heart forward. Because I was distracted, I didn’t have time to get ready and when he leaped off, instead of leaning forward, my entire body flew, first backward, and then forwards. Completely off balance and confused, Frank bucked and leaped around, trying to get this sack of potatoes off of his back. Unfortunately, he succeeded. Instead of landing gracefully, I flew through the air and landed on the ground.
Rosie shrieked and ran towards me but I was done with her. Falling off was her fault and I wasn’t going to let that happen again. 
I stood up and took a step towards her. She shrunk back. I glared at her and opened my mouth, but as soon as I did, I noticed something bizarre. Her hair and eyes and skin and everything was turning gray. It started with her hair, but she was slowly dissolving. “No! NO!” I screamed. “Please don’t go!” I sobbed. She stared at me. Her eyes were wild with fear. “Please, I love you, I’m sorry!!!” Her hair solidified. Her eyes were no longer insane with fear. A small smirk spread across her face. “Gotcha,” she said. 
And after that, I was no longer furious. I wasn’t even mad. All she had tried to do was help me and I had under-appreciated how hard she worked to keep me safe. After catching Frank I hopped back on and we did the course again. He was fine. The lights flickered back on and I finished the day with a smile.

 

Summit House-WCS

VT

YWP Instructor

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