Monday, February 28, 2011

True Grit

Rex took his first fall tonight over a very small jump - he lay prostrated in the arena - tears in his eyes, his face pale.
"What bit is broken?" I asked him.
Turned out there was nothing the matter - his pride was injured, not his neck.
I said, "That was a very small fall, Rex. Get up and get back on your pony. And try not to get left behind this time when he jumps-"
"You're not very kind, Mum," he told me.
I shrugged. "If you're not prepared to fall off, don't ride."
He nursed his injured pride until after the lesson and we were watching Tamara jump Skippy. Skippy swerved and Tamara fell off in to the wing pole, catching her leg on the sharp metal cup. She tore a large rip in her jodphurs and a nasty gash in her leg. She stood up laughing and rebuilt the jump. She caught Skippy and jumped back up on him, cantered round and back over the jump. Then she dismounted to get her leg seen to.
In a very small voice Rex admitted: "You're right, Mum, mine was a very small fall."

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