Thank God I'm a Country Boy With a Horse Standing on My Foot

I'm not a very good country boy. I do my best, but I have the sensation that in rural settings I'm like a carnie at a fancy restaurant -- just a little out of place. Not sure where that analogy came from, but I'm actually somewhat pleased with it (pats self on back and enjoys a self-congratulatory Otter Pop).

The other day we went on a short horseback ride with Shannon's aunt. Things were going pretty well -- Shannon and her aunt were saddling the horses and I was dumbly watching. Then they led out my horse, Foxy Lady.

"Okay, she's pretty young and hasn't been ridden much," Shannon's aunt explained. "She might be a little unpredictable." How unpredictable can a horse be? Look, they run and eat and sometimes they kick things. That's not very unpredictable. "Don't mount until we're done saddling the others. Just stand here and hold the reins." Dude. Easy. I was feeling like Sawyer Brown. Which, I think, is actually two guys. But let's pretend it's just one guy, and he's good with horses, and I was feeling like him.

So, Foxy Lady kind of eyes me for awhile. Then she stepped on my foot. For no reason. Just stepped on my foot.

There's a continuum of Someone-Just-Stepped-On-Your-Foot pain. It goes like this: fluffy kitty steps on your foot < toddler steps on your foot < diminutive adolescent steps on your foot < smallish spouse steps on your foot < standard homo erectus steps on your foot < standard homo sapien steps on your foot < NFL offensive lineman steps on your foot < really, really fat guy steps on your foot < economy car rolls over your foot < fully grown horse steps on your foot < diesel truck with dualies rolls over your foot < semi-truck drops a manufactured home on your foot < you step on a landmine.

So, I acknowledge that I didn't sustain the worst-case scenario in foot pain. But it still hurt. So I punched Foxy Lady until she moved her hoof. Then we were in a fight for the rest of the night. I gave her the silent treatment and she stepped on my foot again when I dismounted after the ride.

The next day I told Shannon's aunt that Foxy Lady had stepped on my foot. "Oh, yeah, horses can tell if you're inexperienced around them and they take advantage of that," she said. So... they're like girls? I think I'll stick to riding mountain bikes and motorcycles. They don't take advantage of you.