After a minimum of two months on the ground, I finally saddled up and climbed on the back of The Big Red Horse yesterday.  Given our lengthy lazy spell, it came as no surprise that the girth tightened two holes lower than last ride, and given my own refusal to even attempt to wrap a belt around my waist, I offered no judgment. However, a memory from last spring’s vet visit flashed a red warning light in my head. Last year Chicago stretched the weight tape (a nylon band that wraps around a horse’s girth to estimate its weight) to infinity and beyond, so we have 6-8 weeks to make sure Dr. Heather doesn’t have to bring the extension this time.

Off we went, onto our tiny wooded trail, where I couldn’t help but think of last spring’s first ride – a disastrous outing in which Chicago left me lying on my back in the woods while he bolted across the yard, around the barn and back again. He’d been spooked by a horse and buggy on the road 100 yards away, then parlayed the panic of Biskit and Rusty, who’d spotted the same vehicle from the safety of their pasture, into a full-blown fear fest.

I caught him on the lawn, (barely) relieved that he’d managed to avoid hurting himself by stepping on his reins; and climbed up, slightly sickened with the knowledge that we’d have to return to the scene of the crime and compose ourselves before we could call it day.  He was at the height of Big Red Beastliness, prancing and puffing and threatening to explode as we made our way back, but this time I was more determined to stay calm and stay on than he was to get me off. So I stayed on.

That was then, this is now, I reminded myself.  Fortunately for all concerned, this year’s First Ride bore no resemblance to that of 2015. The only vehicles on the road were appropriately powered by big engines, and though Chicago showed no concern about any of them, I will confess to breaking  out in a couple calming verses of “The Wheels on the Bus” when the noisy yellow student-mobile passed by. Just in case.

To avoid a return to any of the rodeo rides of our past, I kept yesterday’s walk in the woods short. And safe. We returned to the barn, shared an apple and a preemptive dose of anti-inflammatory. A little grooming massagefor my big red friend, then back to the pasture with his friends. A good day for both of us.

We should do this more often…