Although she is pushing her maximum density in these pictures. By the time she was less dense, I no longer was asked to carry her. Well, last year we did our little mini rides 7 or 8 times. But that doesn't really count.
So the other horses she now rides get the benefit of her minimalization, and not me. That doesn't seem fair. But since I didn't know better at the time, I just made the best of the situation.
These pictures were taking shortly before she went away for quite some time. Aunt Margie made sure I got brought in and fed and cleaned and everything during that time. As you can see, I already had her number. I knew which pocket was the cookie pocket.
Mother announced one cold spring day that she was going away for a while. She brought me in from the field, led me up to the mounting block at the back of the barn, and before I knew it, she was sitting on me.
Just her. No saddle... it felt quite strange. When I started walking it felt stranger still.
There was lots of strange things about that. She didn't have a helmet, I didn't have a bridle... I had less than 15 rides. Another human looked at her asked if she had gone crazy. She said, "Well if he kills me, I don't have to go to ****, now do I?" She just rode me to the front of the barn. It wasn't so bad.
She started riding me without a saddle a lot more, usually just down to where I would hand graze, and again on the way back up to the barn. It was strangely comforting, being ridden without a saddle. It reminded me of something, but I can't quite put a hoof on it...
Olaf C. Seltzer - Stolen Horses .
Anyway, those days are long gone. Now I don't have to do any work for my cookies.
Life is good.
**** Somewhere hot and desert-y and far, far away.