We were going to have a nice, mellow walking ride around the barn, just a few laps. Evening bareback barn-laps are absolutely a thing we’ve done for the past bunch of years. This is not new. This is not scary. Hop up, wander, relax.
I hopped up and gave her the usual mounting-cookie. I relaxed. Ahh, home. Fourth horse of the day and the one I know so well. I didn’t even bother with a bit, just stuck reins on the halter and added the bareback pad.
We walked off. She flounced. I stuck with it. One flounce isn’t bad. Zen, Fig, zen. Just think mellow and relaxed and it’ll be fine, one flounce is normal enough. And I did! Relaxed. Settled in. No sense pulling on her, just keep walking, just keep walking, this is home and normal and we can do this.
Thus I was totally relaxed and settled as we bounced our way around the corner. One small rear.. two.. three.. four.. and somewhere in there we were still moving forward enough to spook the horse at the corner. I apologized to him and Fetti “bolted” forwards into a polite trot.
Well then. We were not working on our mellow bareback walk in a particularly productive fashion tonight.
I decided that zen might be better found if I were voluntarily on the ground, and bailed off before she’d even come to a full stop.
Um. Pony. I am still here. This is not particularly acceptable. What the heck do you think you are doing. Get your butt in the round pen and you will be cantering circles for ten minutes, thank you very much.
And then there was zen on both our parts, and we had our two laps of bareback walking around the barn in the moonlight.