Do you remember the moment when the horse bug bit you? I sure do. I was five or six years old and this was my first ride on a “real horse”. Oh sure, there’d been lots of talk of horses; there had even been a few pony rides, but for some reason this time was different. We were visiting my grandma in Kansas, and one of her friends offered to give me a ride on her horse, Cisco.
My dad lifted me up onto his back and I reached forward to pet his fuzzy neck; my feet dangled at least eighteen inches short of the stirrups, but I wasn’t afraid. I loved the feeling of sitting on his tall back looking at things from a completely new angle. As she led me around on Cisco, she explained to me how to ask him to walk, halt, turn, etc. On one of our loops around the paddock, he started to pick up the pace. She brought him down and reminded me that I should only squeeze when I wanted to go faster. I smiled and said, “Ok”, but inside I was delighted; I had done it on purpose…If only my parents knew what that one little horse ride on a breezy day in Kansas would start.
Do you remember the day it all started for you?