On the second day of our family reunion, we drove to the heart of Wisconsin to continue our gathering at my oldest brother’s country home, replete with four horses: one good riding horse, one untamed Arabian, and two Amish carriage horses. After eating from a spread of goodies, my brother suggested that we all go for a carriage ride. He had two hookups to the hundred-year-old carriage, one for two horses, and one for one horse. The hookup for the two horses was broken, so the men dragged it back into the garage, and worked on the one-horse hookup. Since the second horse wasn’t pulling the carriage, we decided to saddle the horse, and ride next to the carriage. I asked my sister with alacrity, “Who’s going to ride first?”
She cried enthusiastically, “You are!” I boarded the stocky and un-ridden carriage horse with aplomb. I’ve ridden many horses in my time. It takes a persistently ornery animal to dislodge me from its back. My husband watched with concern as the horse began to crowfoot. “T-s-s-s-s-s-t!” I hissed at the horse, a sound known to distract an animal from their current mindset. She settled down. We tried a canter next. The crowfooting increased with the horse’s dissatisfaction at the separation from her partner. I knew what was next, bucking, and so I slowed her down to a rack, something that carriage horses understand. Then, we trotted and I posted so as not to upset the feisty creature. My husband told me that I really looked good on the horse, and asked us to stop for a picture, and so we did.
A young neighborhood girl who studied horsemanship, but had never actually ridden a horse yet, asked if she could ride on the horse behind me. My sister and brother assured me that it was fine, and so they hoisted the young girl up behind the saddle and showed her where to hold on. We headed down the driveway, and the horse protested, since it put such a distance in between her and her partner. “T-s-s-s-s-s-t!” I hissed at the horse, and ordered her to settle down. The horse listened, but tried to canter without permission. I reined her in and we continued at a nice rack out through the pasture, where she wanted to run and kick up her heels. I had great concerns for the young girl seated behind me. I didn’t want the horse to launch her like a rocket, and so I directed the carriage horse into the soft dirt at the side of the pasture to slow her mounting angst. We circled the pasture successfully, a large expanse of seventeen acres, and headed back to the garage where her partner was harnessed to the old carriage.
My brother decided to take a test run with the carriage before offering rides to others. The young girl and I planned to walk our horse along beside the other carriage horse to reassure the dismayed creature. I knew how a team hates separation from each other. I’ve witnessed it before. My oldest brother started out slowly, but the horse took over, and trotted. He tried desperately to whoa her, but she broke into a wild canter, and then a gallop as she hauled my brother down the driveway at a breakneck speed! I halted my steed, and said a silent prayer for my brother and the horse’s safety. They screamed out the end of the driveway, and the horse reeled onto the active highway, where, thankfully, there was no traffic. Amazingly, the carriage didn’t overturn. As fast as that happened, the horse took a sharp right down into the ditch towards the pasture, and leaped over the fence back into the pasture leaving my brother stuck on the other side in the carriage!
My youngest sister tore out to the location through the long grass. She checked the horse for soundness, and then un-harnessed the horrified animal. The horse ran lickety-split back to the fence to her partner where we stood waiting. My other sister removed the young girl from my horse, and the creature had a hissy fit, so I cantered her around the yard until she settled down. I dismounted her, and asked my two equestrian sisters who wanted to ride her next. My other sister took a spin around the drive and dismounted. My youngest sister did the same and quickly dismounted. I asked, “Aren’t you going riding?”
They gave each other a frowned look, and then turned to me and declared with certainty, “No!”
I thought that was quite curious, “Was I the Ginny pig?” You never know what is going to happen at a family reunion.
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