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A Horses View on Riding

© Marta Towne

Hello there, my name is Reena. I am grey Arabian mare. I live in a pasture with several other horses, but I am my person's only horse. I am usually very even tempered, but I have to tell you, the more I see of this riding nonsense, the more I think my person and I need to talk! I mean, please...Mom (that's what I call my person) is fond of saying I am a "beast of burden"...I am the beast, she is the burden. But let me tell you, from a horses point of view, this just is NOT fair!

First, Mom comes out with this HUGE leather thing she calls a saddle. It must weigh as much as I do...and just between you, me and the fence post, that's quite a bit! Then she puts it on my back and tightens it up around my tender tummy. Not just snug, mind you, REALLY cinched down! Then, she takes this other leather thing with a hard, cold, nasty piece of metal on it and stuffs said piece of metal in my mouth! She calls it a bit and bridle, I call it medieval torture devices! And then, to add insult to injury, she puts her foot in a piece of the saddle and clambers up on my back; and let me tell you, Mom AIN'T small either!

But does she stop with these indignities? NO! Then she makes me go places that I have no earthly desire to go! Here and there, there and here....everywhere all over kingdom come! We walk, run, trot (not much, Mom seems to hate this gait! Teehee) After days...well, maybe only hours, but it seems longer...after this, we finally come up on the driveway to the pasture. But, do you think Mom will let me go in? NO! She makes me go past the driveway and another day, well, hour, the other direction!

Can you believe this? Finally, finally we get home and mom let's me go up the drive and FINALLY, she takes off the torturous saddle and bridle ( not to mention, HER). Then I get brushed, stroked, fed cookies...and WALKED! Like I haven't done enough of THAT! But before I get let back into my pasture for a good roll, Mom sprays this horrid smelling spray stuff on me! I HATE that! IT STINKS! But eventually, after a lot of love and cookies (almost worthwhile!) Mom puts me back in my pasture and I can roll.

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