I have, and I'm glad for it. Why, you ask, am I glad for it? Well, 'cause now I know how freakin' bad that hurts and I have R.E.S.P.E.C.T. for all four corners of a horse's anatomy.
I was actually very lucky with my kick incident. I wasn't kicked in a vital organ, the head or an area that would permanently render me useless. I wasn't kicked by a full grown or angry horse, and the kick didn't leave me petrified of horses. It gave me a much more mindful approach, and I'll say it again - R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (sing it like Aretha) FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME....
I was around 15 or 16 years old and doing evening chores at J's barn after school. In the Spring time, the horses were (and still are) reluctant to come in, which happened to be the case on this fateful day back in 1996. Part of my job was to bring in the outside horses who were divided into gelding herds, mare herds and mama baby herds. The geldings were almost ALWAYS easier to bring in, I don't know why that was (and still is). Anyway, I had finished bringing in all of the other horses and couldn't continue on to the next step of chores (sweeping) until the mares were brought in. I yelled for them, I shook grain in a coffee can, I banged on the side of the barn; but nope, those mares were far more interested in the luscious spring grass, and paid me no mind save for an occasional irritated glance in my general direction. Annoyed and with dressage whip (with white monster bag attached) and lead line in tow, I stomped my way into the mare field. I might add that the mare pasture is about 7 acres, and it sweeps up a moderate grassy hill.
The fat mares, perched atop the grassy hill, took notice of me as I reached the halfway (to them) point. They lifted their heads a wee tiny bit, but immediately continued eating; not a good sign. I heaved a sigh and began to arc around behind them, giving them a wide berth. The strategy here was to get them heading in the right direction toward the barn. If I were to approach from the front, they would have headed the wrong way, to the far side of the pasture. Once I reached the backside of the herd, I was able to get my point across, mostly.
"HEEEE YAAAW" I screamed out, sounding more like a drunken Yak than Xena. The horses startled just a bit, but only a few began their fast decent down the hill to the barn. "HEEEE YAWWWWWW HEEEE YAWWWWW Britches" I hollered, as I frantically waved the bagged dressage whip in their general direction. All accept one stinker of a yearling filly and an ancient painted pony took off at a gallop down the hill, and through the gates to the barn. The filly and the Pony had other ideas. The filly being the novice of the two, knew she didn't want to go in to the barn, but she didn't have the knowledge behind her for a quick escape. The Pony knew, so she was out of the question for me to catch as she was already at the far end of the pasture. I tossed the whip aside and clipped the lead onto the cornered filly's halter (good sweet girl that she was). I assumed the pony would follow along once she realized that her partner in crime was caught. So, with filly in tow I started back down the slope toward the barn.
Here's where I get VERY stupid. So, for a good while the pony continued to graze. Once the filly and I hit about half way down the slope, that was it for the Pony. Quick as her stumpy legs could take her, she raced down the hill, rushed past the startled filly and I, and joined the herd in the barn yard. The filly jigged a bit and I could tell that she wanted to run with her Pony friend into the barn yard, but she listened to me as I corrected her back to a walk. That's when I got to thinking. On one hand, I thought, I could just turn that filly loose. She desperately wanted to go (but was listening well to me), and I knew she'd go where she was supposed to (to the barn). On the other hand, it is good for her to have patience. I should keep her at a walk on the lead until we reach the barn yard just so she knows she must listen. I decided that I would keep her on the lead, but instead of walking with her, I would run with her. Do you see where this is going yet?
The Kicker
So, I began a jog. The filly seemed a bit confused, but she was MORE than willing to come along. So, I picked up the pace with the filly at the end of the lead keeping up. I was picturing us running in unison down the hill, me at an awkward rambling two beat jaunt, long hair blowing in the breeze;the filly at a slow canter beside me, nu-uh, that only happens in movies. The filly had other ideas. WHEEEEE, with a delighted squeal the filly charged forward, happy to be free (in her mind) she kicked her heels up in sheer joy, making contact with my NOT SO FUNNY ANY MORE, funny bone.
WOW, did that hurt. Even though I felt the pain of many pains in that thar' funny bone, I kept hold of that filly. I made her stand and watch as I writhed in pain on my knees, feet and at one point, I think my butt. It wasn't an intentional kick to hurt on the filly's part, but I did back that her up a good many feet just in case she tried that joyful kicking business again, in anyone's presence, regardless of the stupidity of her handler (ahem, me).
What about you, have you ever been kicked by a horse? OUCH!
4 comments:
Yup..last summer. I literally still have part of Laz's hoof on my thigh. Literally, it still hurt when I rub it. It was the hardest cow kick I've ever gotten and I learned to NEVER sneak up on him (although I didn't think I did) while in a trailer.
Wow... I have never been kicked! I am actually quite terrified to be, because although you think you know it's coming, or it won't hurt, I know it can happen SO quick (from watching a horse kick another.) My Boy has never tried to kick, human or horse, he's so good- but when he's had wounds I've had to put stuff on, he's lifted his leg threateningly, but never kicked out. I always stay close to his hiney too, so if he kicks, I would mostly get a boot from his hock.
I was really careful around the ASB mare I took lessons on. When you groomed her, she lifted a hind leg threateningly but never kicked out. My instructor said she never kicked, but I never trusted her fully!
I was kicked by a Chincoteague Pony who was pastured with my first mare. I hated that little pony and she obviously felt the same way about me (that or she was bitter that her name was Hot Lips-- wouldn't you be?). She kicked me right in the gut. I was about 12. But thankfully, she is small and there was no lasting damage. Although, I generally don't like ponies.
Still getting caught up on your archives. :)
I've been kicked 3 times (that I remember right now), if you can believe that. Seriously, I'm not THAT stupid, but isht happens I guess.
The first time, I was talking to my dad who was feeding horses as I walked into my horses stall to pull her blanket. I thought she'd hear me coming, since I was talking and all, but apparently she was too focused on the food coming and I surprised her. She turned around and nailed me in the thigh, sent me flying a good ten feet, right out the door of her stall, which she then exited through, jumping over me. Good times! I was ok, massive bruising, couldn't really walk for a couple days, but ok.
The second time, my big dog ran behind my friends bitchy mare, brushing her leg, when I was holding the gate open for her to walk through. She nailed me instead of the dog, right in the thigh. That was probably 8 years ago and I still have a hoof shaped dent in my thigh.
The third time I was turning horses out and again holding the gate. My boyfriends gelding kicked up his heels as he exited the gate and nailed me in the upper arm. I thought I had broken it for a little bit, but it was just massive bruising again.
Looking back at this, I think maybe I won't hold gates open for horses any more! lol It HURTS getting kicked and I'm the first one to discipline the crap out of a horse for even lifting a threatening foot in my direction now.
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