Tuesday, April 30, 2013
At least I got a bruise to show for it.
Courtney told me to make Lanie run until she stopped and turned toward me ready to cooperate. She ran straight to the stallion (don't they all?) who was standing at the fence line, then all around the ring. After she calmed down, I picked up the lead rope and as quickly as I could do so without letting her think she'd won, walked her back up the lane to her pasture.
The experience was actually pretty fun, but it took me awhile to feel that way. Driving home, I was tempted to cry from general frustration about my day until I reminded myself, as I do when I'm upset, that I'm from hardy stock and that I'm sure as hell not going to be a baby after my dad went through what he did as a POW for eight years. That never fails to pull me up short, so I called Dad to thank him for the toughness running through my veins. He reminded me that I'd had a complete blood transfusion as a newborn. Thanks, Dad. Micah assured me that genetics are set well before blood is present and that your genes don't change when you get a transfusion. She was probably just babying me because her stupid horse kicked me.