close

At the end of the horse’s rope

3 min read

I saw it happening milliseconds before it did. He took off like a shot, and then, so did I. The horse, ladies and gentlemen. I’m talking about the horse again.

Recently, it was unsafe for my daughter to ride him. In order to get to any of the trails, she has to walk up a steep hill. With all of the rain we’ve had, it is pretty slippery, and we were concerned about one or both of them getting hurt.

So to keep Bubs exercised and healthy, we were lunging him in a small area near our large hay barn. Lunging is where you hook the halter to a lead rope – in this case, about a 20-foot-long lead rope – and encourage the horse to run in a circle at the end of his lead.

Not being a natural horseman, this sounds much easier than it is. For about three minutes, he wants to run. Then, he walks back to the center of his circle (me) or puts his head down to try to eat grass. Unfortunately, if you let him quit when he wants, he gets the idea he is the boss, and that can make him dangerous on rides.

So after the three minutes are up, whistling and yelling are used to remind him I’m in charge. We run first in one direction, and then the other. After a half hour or so, we begin to walk him around to cool him off before heading back to the barn for a rubdown.

Generally speaking, he loves this. He wants to exercise, be out of his stall and, perhaps most of all, be around people. As soon as he is permitted to, he is beside you, rubbing his enormous head on you, practically knocking you down with all his love.

I’ve got to admit, he’s growing on me.

Last week, I was working with him when I accidentally let the rope down too early. It got some slack in it while he was moving pretty good, and on his next step, the rope went between his legs. I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

I did see it happening milliseconds before he took off running. I frantically scraped at the rope – looped over my wrist – and tried to drop it. But I was too late. Suddenly I was being dragged across the ground. Finally, the rope popped off of my hand and I came to a stop.

I jumped up and went to grab his rope so he didn’t run, but there was no need to worry. He turned around and came directly to me, rubbing his head on me as if to apologize. It was only then I saw my hand. Already black, it was also very lumpy. I looked like I was stung by one of those fictitious Tracker Jackers from the “Hunger Games” series. Fortunately, I had full range of motion, and nothing appeared to be broken.

We checked him over, as well, and he wasn’t injured. Back to the barn to care for him, and then to the house to care for me. It was a rough few weeks on the farm for me, but I’m only more determined.

I’ll either figure this farming thing out or die trying.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.

CUSTOMER LOGIN

If you have an account and are registered for online access, sign in with your email address and password below.

NEW CUSTOMERS/UNREGISTERED ACCOUNTS

Never been a subscriber and want to subscribe, click the Subscribe button below.

Starting at $3.75/week.

Subscribe Today