Taco Time

Maybe I have told you the story about the pig.

This evening I rode Taco for a nice, long ride and I can confidently say, I think the pig is becoming smaller and dimmer in her memory.

Early in June one of my Peruvian students came into our classroom and asked, "You been riding your horse?" I answered no, but that I was planning on going that afternoon. "If you ride down Sawyer Brook Road you will see me. I'll be out doing wood." I love the loop that ends with Sawyer Brook Road, so I told the student I would probably see him out there.

I got Taco ready and had a beautiful and uneventful ride up the trail. As we got close to the kid in the woods -- and close to his sounds of throwing wood into the back of a pick-up truck -- Taco began to get a little nervous acting. I assured her verbally and urged her on. We came upon the kid and he and I had a nice, quick conversation. Off we went down the trail to where his house is. As we got closer to his house, Taco began to get really alert and kind of amped. I again thought it was nothing and urged her on. The kid's dad was sitting on his 4-wheeler in the front yard. He and I had a quick and friendly conversation. Just as I was about to urge Taco on down the dirt road, a fenced in, female, large pig about 50 yards from where Taco and I were, came charging out toward us -- running fast and snorting to beat the band.

Taco lost it.

She reared. She bucked. She backed up quickly, almost taking us into the woods and off the side of the road. She spun in circles.

I held on, whoaing her -- trying to get her calm.

Nothing worked - she reared, bucked, spun and snorted all the more. I kept making her stay there, not allowing her to go with her strongest fear instinct -- flight.

Finally I got her still enough for the kid's dad to yell, "Are you alright?" I answered that I thought so but that I could not understand why she had gone so crazy about a pig. At that moment the farmyard young bull (whose fence that separated him from us was only about 10 yards away) came running at us -- full on. He stopped right at the edge of his side of the fence, planted his feet and snorted.

Taco exploded again.

I knew I had to stay on. I could not let her go. I could not fall off and have her running scared through the woods.

I stayed on, but I never got her calm again. I couldn't even say goodbye to the kid's dad. I just spun her and cantered out of the farmyard and back up the road to where the kid was still doing wood. Once we met up with him (he was limbing a tree with a chainsaw) Taco acted like he was an alien. She snorted, shuffled, pranced, shook her head. I told him that his dad had got one heck of a show and that I thought I would make record time back to the barn.

I did.

She never calmed down -- the whole ride she pranced -- all amped up. It was a little unnerving.

And since then, before this evening's ride, she has not been the same. EVERY THING scares her. Things that NEVER scared her before were making her crazy. And my confidence in her was rocked. So when we would happen upon something unusual, I know I was not helping things with feeling a little nervous thinking about how she would react.

But thankfully I hung out with a VA horsewoman during my WFA training and talked with her about it. And my cousin who I grew up riding horses with (since I was 5) was up last weekend and I talked with her about it. I got my head back - got my confidence back and rode tonight almost like the pig incident never happened.

It was awesome.

I love being in the woods -- just her and me. She did great - we rode for a good long time and it felt so good. Tonight was one of those nights I consider perfect for horseback riding. Low humidity, little breeze, ample sun. Tonight is the kind of night that before I had a horse of my own I would think back nostalgically on my youth and mutter that "tonight is the perfect night for a ride."

Tonight was that perfect night, and I feel so lucky to have a horse of my own and a husband-to-be with the space for me to keep her. And I have the joy, pleasure, confidence and knowledge that is perennial when you learn something at a very young age.

Peace out, Pig.

(I will not soon forget you.)