more childhood memories…

By 1991, my sister, Kathy, had been obsessed with horses for most of her short life. Actually, she was truly obsessed with unicorns, but considering the fact that unicorns are about as real as the heaven awaiting deranged suicide bombers, she turned her attention to their closest (existing) cousin. She usually loathed reading back then, but she found time to read every volume in the Black Stallion series, as well as most of the Saddle Club series…and I can’t believe I remember those names!

Anyway, when she finished 7th grade on the honor roll in 1991, she was rewarded, rather handsomely I might add, with Snickers, a yearling quarterhorse that she was instantly in love with. He looked a lot like the horse pictured above: a beautiful chestnut brown with a white strip down his nose.

I know what you’re thinking: what spoiled brats we must have been! Most kids want a pony, but Kathy actually got one. We must have been rich and spoiled and our parents probably ruined us for life. Not so. We never lacked, but we were far from rich. My parents had to scrimp and save so that they could buy that horse…and it wasn’t just a reward for her grades in school, it was for being an honest, loving, helpful, sweet, all-around good kid/daughter/sister for over a decade. She well deserved that horse, and she took great care of it every day.

Now, all of that is background…here’s the story I’m really telling:

I used to go with Kathy to Scott's stables, where she boarded Snickers. It takes a lot of hard work to break a horse, so I would go to try and help her. I was only about 9 at the time, so I’m not too sure how much of a help I actually was, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, one beautiful, South Dakota day when we got to Scott’s place, Snickers was way out in the back pasture with all the other horses and he simply did not want to come and get saddled up. Armed with only a lead rope and her wits, Kathy headed for that stubborn pack of horses with me at her heels. When we finally reached hornless beasts, they were huddled near the back fence and it was clear that they were happy just where they were. Every attempt at singling out her horse failed. Annoyed, Kathy eventually decided she would just scare the whole herd toward the stables and we could single Snickers out up there. She sent me to the right and she went to the left. She was going to chase the pack swinging her rope, and if they came toward me I was instructed to turn them toward the stables. I ambled around to the side of the pack and waited. Suddenly, Kathy started screaming and ran toward the horses with her rope swinging around above her head. In an instant the languid troop became an undulating mass of flying hooves and flailing mane. They were wild with fear, confusion, and anger…and they were headed straight for me…

(Ever have one of those slow motion moments? Maybe your foot misses a step or your car skids out of control...whatever the reason, your brain is confused and you can’t seem to find a grip on reality. For those few, fleeting moments it seems as though you’re watching everything unfold from someone else’s point of view. You know the feeling? Well, this was one of those moments.)

For an instant I froze, staring unbelieving at my inevitable fate. After what seemed like hours, I came to my senses and dashed toward my only escape: the fence. Thankfully it was only about 10 yards away, and I reached it just in time. I dove head first under the barbed wire and rolled into the neighboring pasture as dozens of hooves thundered by. I lay there for a moment, thankful to be breathing the dusty air.

As I stood up and turned to face my sister, a look of fear and surprise was still on her face. “I thought I’d killed you!” she said.

“Me too,” I replied. We stood there for a minute, just looking at each other, both of us glad that I was alive.

I crawled back under the fence and dusted myself off. Kathy gave me a hug, and with that, we took off after those horses.