In an emergency, would Butch take care of me?
Or would he hurt me to (in his mind) save himself?
Yesterday a friend and I went for a long ride down the riverbed. It was a perfect fall day. She was working on exposing her horse to new things, I was working on building up Butch's conditioning. I've been slowly building him back up to longer stretches of trotting in deep sand, and just recently starting cantering him some in it.
"You want to lope a bit?"
"Sure, you go ahead."
Butch was willing, he kicked right into gear. Here's what happened next,
from my view:
Midstride, suddenly Butch pitched forward & down. I went over his head. I was lying on my stomach and could hear him scrambling frantically right next to me. I heard my name yelled, and turned over just in time to see his shoulder land at my shoulder and the rest of his body coming crashing down on top of me. Then, miraculously, I had time to roll out from under him and let go of the reins (I was still gripping the reins!). The instant I was out of the way he fell heavily on his side, struggled a moment and then got up.
Becky's view:
Midstride, suddenly Butch pitched forward onto his head. I flew over and landed face-down. For a moment Butch scrambled madly to recover but somehow his head was twisted under his neck (probably from me holding the reins) and he couldn't. A second later, he went down shoulder-first into a flip. Becky saw me under him and yelled my name. Suddenly - impossibly, with his head caught under his neck like a pretzel and his body tumbled halfway over - Butch froze, butt up, holding his hind end up off the sand. Becky saw me roll out on the other side of him. Butch unfroze, fell the rest of the way over, freed his head and pulled himself up.
He then stood quietly and waited for me.
Butch is okay - I'm fine - he's bruised under his tail where the crupper broke and a little stiff in his right shoulder, but otherwise seems none the worse. He got the royalty treatment when we got back to the barn! He got so many hand-fed apples he'll be impossible to deal with for the next two weeks.
Butch Henry. My mule.
There are no words...
