Friday, August 22, 2008

Got Bucked Off Today

My happy little plans to enjoy my Friday by leaving work early, have a nice ride on Mae, and then make it home in time to shower and go out tonight were kind of flattened when she bucked me off. I blame mostly myself but am increasingly becoming angry as I grapple with the possibility that this is something she "does sometimes" and no one told me!

I got the barn, and Mae seemed to be in a fine mood. I longed her briefly. No problems. Tacked up and took her to the outdoor. It was hot today, so strike one. It also kind of buggy and I, uh, forgot to flyspray her. Strike two.

Strike three was me becoming reactive when we had a shitty ride. She was not listening, trying to race all over the place, etc. We basically seemed to be losing all the progress we made this summer, and I was frustrated. I was annoyed. I growled things like "Come ON Mae" and "I do NOT want to lean on this rein!" while trying to get back on track. We rode for 30 minutes and she was pretty sweaty since it was so hot and all. I figured we'd take a short walk through the fields to cool down. This is something we've done multiple times in the past, and no problems.

As we set off, I realized I (once again) wasn't carrying identification or a cell phone or anything. Typically, I don't like going on the trail or far out of the ring alone, because you never know. But I figured a little cool-down walk through the fields might be good for us since we were struggling in the ring. And she felt fine. So off we went.

She tried stopping once, something she occasionally does outside of the ring. I urged her on and we continued with no problems. Mae is definitely a horse who likes to test people, and if you're wishy-washy she will own you. I've been down this road with her before, and I wasn't going to let her decide when she wanted to stop or turn around for home.

Then we got to the dry, very very slight dip in the ground. The first few times we came across this, she balked and refused to go, so I got off and led her across it. But the last several times she's been fine; she either walks right over it or she'll refuse at first but my firm urging gets her carry on.

Today, she threw a hissy fit. Did not want to keep going; kept backing up and trying to head for the barn. I was firm, which has worked in the past. Wouldn't let her get her head turned around. Urged her on. Growled "Walk...on!" Some flies swarmed at her face and she did not want to go forward, but I kept urging her on. And I guess she decided to end it. By bucking like no other horse I have ridden has ever bucked.

Holy cow! As she flew up in the air and I was unseated, everything seemed to go in slow motion. As I came down on her neck, I thought I could possibly fight for it and remain on her without falling. But it wasn't a sure thing, and who knew if she'd buck again? I decided, midair, that I should probably just fall off and get it over with.

So I did. I landed on my back and my head hit the ground, but I was wearing my helmet as always (THANK GOD). I still had the reins in my hand and my goal was to keep it that way so she couldn't run off. Again, we're still in slow motion here. As I land on the ground and struggle to maintain the reins, I swear Mae and I had a moment of eye contact. On my end, I was pleading, "Please please calm down and don't run away from me." And her look? It said, loud and clear: "HELL NO."

Off she went, with me cooing and calling and hoping to god she'd stop to graze in the tasty fields all around us. Nope. She took off at a determined gallop. I leapt to my feet almost as soon as I had hit the ground and started running after her, still pleading. She made a sharp turn and continued galloping out of my line of sight.

This was the the worst part of the whole experience. We were out in the open, no one was around at the barn, and she was loose. She could run to the road and get hit by a car. Or, maybe she'd just keep running out of terror and I wouldn't be able to find her. The most likely (I hoped) explanation was that she ran right back to the barn, but there was no guarantee of that. As I ran along, I started thinking of the phone calls I'd have to make: the barn owner, Mae's owner...would it be appropriate to call 9-1-1 if she ran off and I couldn't find her? I didn't know, but if she had disappeared for real, I was going to find out.

As I ran, rasping and wheezing, toward the barn (no Mae in sight), I saw a neighbor at the next farm over hurrying in my direction. I started shouting very helpful things like "HEY. HEY! DO YOU SEE HER???" as I ran. The barn dogs were running in circles in the field behind the farmhouse, yapping their heads off. I took this as a very bad sign -- that is the direction away from the barn, and closer to the road.

As the neighbor lady got closer to me, I heard her shout something that sounded like "I just saw her still running through the fields" and oh sweet jesus, I thought that meant Mae was on the lam for good. Neighbor Lady and I met up near the barn entrance and even though by then I was convinced Mae was still running free, I thought I better check the barn first.

As I approached the entrance, I was thrilled to see two deep marks in the loose gravel. You know, the kind that might appear if a frantic, galloping horse had to skid to a stop before entering the barn? Whew. I ran in the barn with Neighbor Lady following me while I babbled, "Please be in your stall, please be in your stall!"

She was. She was dripping with sweat and terrified and maybe a bit pissed, but she was in her stall. Sweet lord. I took her out and started walking her in the indoor ring, and Neighbor Lady and I agreed that she seemed to be walking just fine. (I love Neighbor Lady, by the way. It helped so much to just know another person was around to help me if I needed it.)

Poor Mae was so, so sweaty, which worried me quite a bit. I walked her for almost 20 minutes before I realized that I had been too shaken up to even run up the stirrups or loosen her girth. So I did that and walked her for a few more minutes before untacking her completely before continuing to cool her down. I was starting to panic that she wasn't going to be okay, but I figured there was nothing to do but keep walking her and then hose her down.

So that's what I did -- almost 45 minutes of hand walking, and then I gave her a bath and hand grazed her for a while, and by then she seemed fine. While I'd been walking her, a few other boarders showed up at the barn and I told them what happened. And do you know what one woman said?

"Oh no, she bucked you off? I hear she does that sometimes. In fact, she bucked off [Mae's owner] a few months ago."

Excuse me? Apparently, and it's possible this is hearsay, but apparently Mae bucked her owner off in the outdoor ring "because she just didn't feel like being ridden." And then I remembered a little conversation I had with the barn manager right at the beginning of the lease, when Mae's owner was still around:

Barn Manager: Yeah, [Mae's owner] just fell off her the other day.
Me: Oh no. What happened? Is there anything I need to know?
BM: No, it's fine. She just fell off. Rolls her eyes, indicating that Mae's owner is kind of a mess and is afraid of riding so will jump off at the slightest notice of something going wrong.

I'm now realizing that the boarder who told me the owner was bucked off moved into the barn not long before Mae's owner left for the summer, so exactly how many falling incidents would have occurred around this time? I am pissed that no one thought to mention this little, "Yeah, Mae might try to buck you off" thing.

Of course, she and I haven't had any problems this summer. Certainly no bucking or signs of aggression. And during those 45 minutes that I hand-walked her today, I was totally beating myself up. It must be all my fault. Not only for taking her out of the ring and riding through the fields alone, with no one around (yep, I KNOW that was stupid, never gonna happen again) but for pushing her to go on when she was clearly in a tiff about it. Of course, if I had known she might, you know, try to buck me off, I might have been a little more conservative.

I should point out that "pushing her on" did not include any whips, crops, spurs, etc. I never ride her with any of those things. Instead, I was being firm and not letting her decide to whip around and trot merrily back to the barn. I was using leg pressure, clucks and some kicks to get her going, and I wasn't taking no for an answer. This has worked fine in the past; she realizes she's not going to get away with being a brat and walks on. But what do you think? Does it sound like I pushed her too hard? Did I deserve to be bucked off? (I have seen videos of total asshats who then get bucked off and I'm like "Whoo-hoo for the horse!" but I don't think I was being unreasonable to her.

Anyway. I don't blame this whole incident on Mae, and trust me, I'm thankful that I had my helmet on and she ran straight to the barn and seems to be doing okay, but I think it kind of made my decision to stop her lease and pick up the other one a little easier.

As for me, I think I'm okay. I spent all that time hand-walking her, chatting with the boarders, giving her a bath, etc. and felt fine. But then I got in my car to drive home and started to feel a little funny. I have a history of anxiety issues, and this is the kind of incident that sets it off. I couldn't tell if I was feeling dizzy/whoozy and about to run myself off the road from a concussion or because I was having an anxiety attack. Luckily, my gas tank was on empty anyway, so I pulled into a gas station and called my SO. Chatted to him for a bit and he calmed me down, as always. I turned into a blubbering mess when I talked to him, though. I felt totally fine, emotionally and physically, back at the barn, but talking to him made me realize I just got freaking bucked off the horse I trusted and she went on a wild gallop back to the barn while I worried she was hit by a car or something.

Anyway, after our phone chat I was fine. I ran a bunch of errands on the way back because I knew once I got home and in the shower I wasn't going to want to leave the house again. I ate and then read for about two and a half hours. My head hurts a little, but nothing big and I think I'm just fine.

My enthusiasm for driving all the way out there to ride again this weekend is completely gone, though. I didn't get back on Mae again once I saw she was okay, mostly because she was so sweaty and overheated I didn't even want to get on her back, and also because I'd left my helmet by her stall and didn't feel like leaving her to get it, and also the mounting block was still outside. I can (and do) get on from the ground, but at that moment the thought of dragging myself up from the ground was NOT enticing.

When I was a kid, I was always told to get right back on after a fall because otherwise you might start to develop fear and never want to get back in the saddle again. Is there even any truth to that? I don't know. I'm not worried about getting on her again in general, but I can tell you I am NEVER riding her outside a ring alone again. I might still do a trail ride with a trail riding buddy, but I might be a little anxious about that at first.

Of course, I only have approximately one week left in this lease anyway. After a drama-free summer with Mae, this feels like a weird way to go out. I really hope our next ride is calm and relaxing. And BUCK-FREE, thank you very much.

2 comments:

Daun said...

Wow, Mae! I hope you are ok! Take it easy and don't rush back. Sometimes you find out 24 hours later that you kinked your neck or something. I hope that isn't the case, but just take it easy on yourself.

And no, I don't think you deserved to be bucked off in any way. Very few people ever deserve it, and dealing with a witchy mare, I would have done the same thing.

So scary, but I am really glad you are ok. It's also ok to have trepidation going back to ride her. Just give yourself time. It took me a very long time to get back to a good place with my horse back in the old days when he was a total punk.

I am very glad you are ok!!

Anonymous said...

Scary story! So glad you're both ok.