…and it did. One of us got kicked by a horse. Yep, it would be me who had the trail-riding mishap again. There have been numerous close calls with horse hooves, but until now we’ve escaped harm. I wasn’t so lucky on our otherwise-idyllic trail ride on Saturday. (More on that, with pictures, later.)

First, I have to say that it was pretty much my fault. There were seven of us on the trail ride, with seven very different horses: two Tennessee Walkers (our Cash and Shari’s still-unnamed horse); our Appaloosa, Romeo; and four Quarter Horses (Katy, Cluless [not a typo], Rabbit and Pistol). I was riding Cash and we stopped for a break. My saddle had shifted back (forgot the darn breast collars) so I got off and started adjusting it. Dummy me, we were standing next to Shari’s very young mare, Pistol, and I was in between. I don’t know what happened - I assume Cash sniffed her nose or some other grievous offense - and Pistol let a hoof fly. I was obviously in the line of fire. I thank the good Lord that I was facing away from Pistol, so her hoof caught the back of my calf, not the bony front - otherwise, I’d have a cast on my leg now, and possibly pins in it too, instead of a very large, colorful and painful bruise.

Purty, huh. It knocked me down too. I tell you, I’m spending much too much time picking myself up off the ground on trail rides these days. Hey, at least I didn’t fall off this time! And again, Cash avoided stepping on me. He could easily have backed up, away from Pistol and over me, but instead chose to walk in front of the scary mare. I love that horse.

Once again, I remind you - having horses around is dangerous. Y’all be careful out there.

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