Why I hate horses part 2

So as I have stated earlier – I hate horses. And you can read my previous posts detailing why – I have good reason!  This is yet another horror story of how horses have tried to ruin my life.

It started off with a friend’s invitation to a ranch to go horseback riding. Since I didn’t want to let my first experience dampen my enthusiasm for life – and so I charged on. Admittedly, a bit frightened.

But you know what? It was brilliant! I had a fantastic time – and I genuinely felt like, hey -horses don’t suck the big monkey. I can totally forgive that last horse for ruining my life with it’s well…you know.I was riding off into the sunset, enjoying life’s little moments – feeling on top of the world! Suddenly I understood why these mystic creatures were the thing of love and adoration. I was converted!

But if you know me, you know good things rarely happen to me in stories like this…

The horror began when trying to get off the horse. I slid off, but precariously as from the ages of 10 to 14 I remained a sad 4’11 midget (I’m now a staggering 5’5). Therefore, I was nowhere near touching the ground, but thought if I slid off slowly enough I’d be good.

I was wrong.

You see, as I prepared my descent off the horse, I couldn’t help but notice my sliding wasn’t really taking me anywhere. I remained, almost stuck. That’s when the horror of the situation was brought to my attention.

My bra was caught on the horn of the saddle.

And as for any 12-year-old girl, this was complete and utter torture.  Not only was I completely humiliated as my friends continued getting of their horses and staring at me, my horse decided to go walk over to it’s food with me attached like some sick marionette/ tumor on it’s side as I screamed and flailed as much as my poor pathetic 4’11 body would let me.

And to my aid came… April something. Whose brash know-it-all attitude endeared her to everyone who met her. Except me. I hated her.Why? Because of what she announced to the entire crowd of people who had begun to flock, as well as the poor indivudal at the other end of the phone.

I eventually got pulled off, managing to flash anyone standing nearby. And at 12, that was just about the worst thing that would happen that summer. That and the sudden flourish of my bosom that mortified me to the ends of the earth.

And that is yet another story of how horses hate me and are trying to ruin my life. Look at the evidence.