Back in the saddle

Yesterday was exactly four weeks since my operation. I bring Bess and Tornado in, under the watchful eye of my mother. Sabina runs circles around us.

I figure that if I can brush and saddle up a horse, then I can get on. In the meantime Sabina's enthusiasm to go riding does not diminsh. What a pity.

In the end, both Bess and Tornado are saddled and ready to go. Sabina is on, and mum holds the lead rope. Then she gazes at me, and the 16hh horse. And she wonders.

I gaze at the wither and wonder too. But, enough of that, just get on. And I do. Child's play.

Once in the saddle, I feel a million dollars. After all, my legs weren't operated on, and I sit solid as a rock.

We ride out the front gate. 50 metres down the road mum gives me the look - she's had enough. I sigh. Okay, okay, I convince Sabina to turn back. We've been on horseback a mere 10 minutes, and we're back at the hitching rail.

I gaze at the ground. Hmmm ... long way down. What will the jolt of dismounting do to me? I'm not really ready for any jolts. I haven't even tried a slow jog yet. I didn't think this bit through very well, did I?

I grab hold of the pomel and use my arms to lower myself slowly. Easy done! Success. Yay!