Yee-Haw, Motherfucker
fourteen
The next morning, I drag myself out of bed, and take the first shower I’ve had by myself in god knows how long. Charlie’s still asleep in my bed. I felt it was best to leave him be. I’m quickly growing used to his constant presence, but I need a minute to myself.
He and Kate have been great, but I’m starting to feel smothered. I know just the thing to pull myself further out of this funk, and I don’t want anyone trying to talk me out of it.
After I finish my shower and my coffee, I get dressed and head to the barn where we have an extra horse waiting to be trained. Kelly, one of the girls from work, called some time last week asking about getting her stud horse, Poseidon, trained.
She bought him from some auction upstate about a month ago. He was supposedly already trained, but you can never put too much faith in auctioneers. They’re just out to make a buck. They don’t give two fucks if the horse breaks your face, long as you buy the damn thing.
Needless to say, he was not trained, and she learned her lesson the hard way. Crazy ass horse broke her nose with his head, reared up on her and forced her head into his on the way down.
Kate took the call and told her to go ahead and drop him off with us. She tried to work with him some herself, but she doesn’t like the training part as much as I do. Plus I think her hands have been a little full of a certain Dairy Bar owner recently.
Gathering all the supplies I need from the barn, I find the bad boy himself waiting next to the gate. I’ve heard from Kate that Poseidon is a sweetheart until you actually get on him. Challenge accepted.
I quickly slip the halter over his head and bring him to the round pen. He’s nothing but a gentleman as I lead him around for a few laps. We’re just getting to know each other a bit. It’s not all about the ride. It’s about the relationship, the connection. The escape from reality. I could benefit from that right about now.
This is the first time I’ve been out of the house since the incident, and my chest feels tighter than normal. I haven’t thrown up yet, though, so I’m going to call it a win for now. I just need to focus. Everything will be fine. I’m safe here.
Poseidon is a big boy. The top of my head meets the top of his back. Granted, I’m only five foot five inches, but still. He’s a silky midnight black with a flowing tail and mane to match. The stripe down his nose is the only white on him. Such a beauty.
He’s about four years old, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to learn him some decent manners. First, I need to teach him how to stretch out for a lady because I’m not about to pull a hamstring trying to get my thick ass leg in the stirrup.
It’s one of the first tricks I teach every horse that I work with. It’s one of the easiest, too. I take the rubber end of my whip and start gently tapping the back of his front legs, just above his hooves. Then I pick up his left hoof since you always mount from the left side and place it about a foot ahead of his right one before walking around to repeat the motion on his other side.
Once I’m back on his left side, I smack him in what can only be compared to our armpit. Horses have thick skin, so even when it sounds like something would hurt, chances are it doesn’t. I repeat all of these steps, making him reset his feet each time and start from the beginning. After about twenty minutes, he’s the perfect gentleman, stretching out with the slightest tap on his leg or armpit. He’ll need some refreshers at the start of the next several sessions, but for the most part, horses have a good memory and learn quickly.
Moving on to the next order of business, I grab the saddle blanket and let him smell of it before placing it on his back. He does great, standing still as a statue. The saddle comes next, and he doesn’t move a muscle until I start to cinch it up tight around his belly. Even then, he only side steps a couple of times before giving in with a huff of air blown through his nostrils. It always makes me laugh when horses do that. It makes them seem so put out by whatever I’m doing with them.
He wrestles with me a little when I attempt to put the bit in his mouth. Easy fix, though. I just pinch the underside of his jaw to make him open wide enough for the bar to easily slide between his teeth. I do this a few times to reiterate that when I say, “open,” he needs to damn well open his mouth and take the bit. He’s a quick learner so far.
Now that he’s all tacked up and ready to rumble, I tie him to a panel with a simple slipknot so that I can attach my spurs to my boots. They’re not torture devices like many people assume; sometimes, horses are just stubborn and the little bit of added pressure gets their attention, makes them behave.
After untying him, I rub him all over his neck and belly, just getting him used to me touching him. Big baby is eating it up, too. I put my left foot in the stirrup with very little pressure, taking to a second to gauge his reaction. The way he has been more than willing to participate makes me a little leery about how he will act when I actually get on him.
He’s standing still as a tree, so I go ahead and put all of my weight on the stirrup, grabbing on to the saddle horn to steady myself. He takes a couple of steps, lifts his head with his ears starting to point backwards. A sign that he’s uncomfortable, so I just stand there and let my right leg dangle as he settles.
After a minute or two, I lean over the saddle with my stomach. He seems okay with it. Now I swing my right leg over so that I’m actually sitting correctly, but I don’t put my right foot in the stirrup just yet. I want to know if he’s going to let this slide or not before I bend over and take myself off balance.
He starts swaying his ass end from side to side slowly and pinning his ears a bit more, letting me know that he’s a little pissy. My favorite mood. This is when the fun really begins.
Stroking his neck in a calming manner I gently praise him. “Good boy. It’s okay. Good boy.”
He releases some of the tension in his ears as I shower him with affection and praise. I lean down to secure my right foot because I know what comes next. I’m about to rock his world and not in a good way.
I inhale deeply and let it out, preparing myself. Making sure I have a strong hold on the reins, my heels gently nudge his sides in a signal for him to walk. I feel him jump slightly, but he makes no other attempt to acknowledge my request.
I knew he was going to be a firecracker. Just how I like them. Call me crazy, but there’s something therapeutic about taming a beast like Poseidon, knowing that you’ve done something many were too afraid to do.
“Alright, bud. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I give him a harder kick with my spurs and click at him with my tongue. This gets him going; I knew it would. It always does. He tries to rear up on his hind legs, but I yank his head to my knee before his front feet have time to leave the ground.
“Not today, Satan. You’re stuck with me until I say we’re through.”
I use the reins to make him turn in a circle, head to my knee the whole time. Then I kick him again. He takes several steps forward as he’s supposed to before he abruptly stops, jolting my body forward. I urge him to start walking again, and he does, reluctantly. His body language clues me in to how he’s thinking. Right about now, he’s thinking that he’s about done with my shit. That’s okay. I’m not feeling like putting up with too much shit today, either.
His movements become choppy as we’re walking around the pen. He starts stomping his hoof in the dirt and snorts loudly. Oh, that’s how he wants to play? Game on, big guy.
I deliver a swift kick in his ribs and yank his head up to get him moving again. He tries to speed up our gait, but that’s not what I asked him to do. I quickly pull his head to my knee again to make him turn around and walk in the other direction. He snorts again, pinning his ears flat against the top of his head. Before I can kick him again, his ass is in the air and I’m thrust up against the saddle horn roughly. It’s a whirlwind of teeter totter proportions as I try to regain control of the animal.
Poseidon had to have been named for his ability to create typhoons with his bodily movements. Because damn. I’m getting thrown forward and backward for a solid minute before I finally manage to push my heels down against the stirrups. It’s not enough, though. He’s strong, and he’s fast. My body hits the ground with a thud as the air leaves my lungs in a weak exhale. Damn. That hurts.
“What the hell are you doing, Haedyn?” I hear Charlie yell before I see him running toward me. He must have fallen witness to that horrendous dismount. I must be rusty because it’s not often that I get thrown so easily.
My whole body groans with protest as I get back on my feet, narrowly avoiding the thrashing stallion still throwing a temper tantrum in the ring with me.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I toss out to Charlie. He’s made it all the way to the fence now, scaling it to get to me. “Don’t come in here. We’ll both be kicked to kingdom come.”
Thankfully, he listens, parking himself atop the fence, watching me with sharpened focus. What a worry wart. I’ve been thrown upwards of a hundred times and haven’t been killed yet. By the look on his face, though, he’s probably never seen someone get thrown to the ground like a rag doll before.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Then stop looking because you won’t like what I’m gonna do next.” I shoot him the sliest grin I can manage.
Poseidon has calmed down now, and he’s standing as far away from me as he can as if he knows I’m about to make his life a living hell. Because I am. I turn away from Charlie to get the horse and try again. This time I know what to expect, so hopefully, I won’t lose my seat as quickly.
“Come on. Let’s go inside. I think you’ve had enough for one day.”
The look I give him should’ve knocked him dead on his ass for suggesting something so stupid. Everyone ought to know that you have to get back on if you get thrown off. It establishes dominance and discourages the behavior’s continuance.
“Sorry, no can do, Charlie. Gotta show him who’s boss. So, unless you want to take my place, sit back and enjoy the show, darlin’.” I blow him a kiss and swiftly flip him the bird right after, turning back to Poseidon.
I don’t hear any more objections. At least he knows when he’s lost. I’ve been doing this far too long to let a man show up and tell me when it’s time to quit. I know my limits. I’ll quit when I’m done.
Swinging myself back into the saddle, Poseidon takes that as his cue to start his bullshit again. Well, yee-haw, motherfucker. I’m ready this go around.