Page 28 of SnapShot

He wrestles with me a little when I attempt to put the bit in his mouth. Easy fix, though. I just pinch the underside of his jaw to make him open wide enough for the bar to easily slide between his teeth. I do this a few times to reiterate that when I say, “open,” he needs to damn well open his mouth and take the bit. He’s a quick learner so far.

Now that he’s all tacked up and ready to rumble, I tie him to a panel with a simple slipknot so that I can attach my spurs to my boots. They’re not torture devices like many people assume; sometimes, horses are just stubborn and the little bit of added pressure gets their attention, makes them behave.

After untying him, I rub him all over his neck and belly, just getting him used to me touching him. Big baby is eating it up, too. I put my left foot in the stirrup with very little pressure, taking to a second to gauge his reaction. The way he has been more than willing to participate makes me a little leery about how he will act when I actually get on him.

He’s standing still as a tree, so I go ahead and put all of my weight on the stirrup, grabbing on to the saddle horn to steady myself. He takes a couple of steps, lifts his head with his ears starting to point backwards. A sign that he’s uncomfortable, so I just stand there and let my right leg dangle as he settles.

After a minute or two, I lean over the saddle with my stomach. He seems okay with it. Now I swing my right leg over so that I’m actually sitting correctly, but I don’t put my right foot in the stirrup just yet. I want to know if he’s going to let this slide or not before I bend over and take myself off balance.

He starts swaying his ass end from side to side slowly and pinning his ears a bit more, letting me know that he’s a little pissy. My favorite mood. This is when the fun really begins.

Stroking his neck in a calming manner I gently praise him. “Good boy. It’s okay. Good boy.”

He releases some of the tension in his ears as I shower him with affection and praise. I lean down to secure my right foot because I know what comes next. I’m about to rock his world and not in a good way.

I inhale deeply and let it out, preparing myself. Making sure I have a strong hold on the reins, my heels gently nudge his sides in a signal for him to walk. I feel him jump slightly, but he makes no other attempt to acknowledge my request.

I knew he was going to be a firecracker. Just how I like them. Call me crazy, but there’s something therapeutic about taming a beast like Poseidon, knowing that you’ve done something many were too afraid to do.

“Alright, bud. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I give him a harder kick with my spurs and click at him with my tongue. This gets him going; I knew it would. It always does. He tries to rear up on his hind legs, but I yank his head to my knee before his front feet have time to leave the ground.

“Not today, Satan. You’re stuck with me until I say we’re through.”

I use the reins to make him turn in a circle, head to my knee the whole time. Then I kick him again. He takes several steps forward as he’s supposed to before he abruptly stops, jolting my body forward. I urge him to start walking again, and he does, reluctantly. His body language clues me in to how he’s thinking. Right about now, he’s thinking that he’s about done with my shit. That’s okay. I’m not feeling like putting up with too much shit today, either.

His movements become choppy as we’re walking around the pen. He starts stomping his hoof in the dirt and snorts loudly. Oh, that’s how he wants to play? Game on, big guy.

I deliver a swift kick in his ribs and yank his head up to get him moving again. He tries to speed up our gait, but that’s not what I asked him to do. I quickly pull his head to my knee again to make him turn around and walk in the other direction. He snorts again, pinning his ears flat against the top of his head. Before I can kick him again, his ass is in the air and I’m thrust up against the saddle horn roughly. It’s a whirlwind of teeter totter proportions as I try to regain control of the animal.

Poseidon had to have been named for his ability to create typhoons with his bodily movements. Because damn. I’m getting thrown forward and backward for a solid minute before I finally manage to push my heels down against the stirrups. It’s not enough, though. He’s strong, and he’s fast. My body hits the ground with a thud as the air leaves my lungs in a weak exhale. Damn. That hurts.

“What the hell are you doing, Haedyn?” I hear Charlie yell before I see him running toward me. He must have fallen witness to that horrendous dismount. I must be rusty because it’s not often that I get thrown so easily.

My whole body groans with protest as I get back on my feet, narrowly avoiding the thrashing stallion still throwing a temper tantrum in the ring with me.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I toss out to Charlie. He’s made it all the way to the fence now, scaling it to get to me. “Don’t come in here. We’ll both be kicked to kingdom come.”

Thankfully, he listens, parking himself atop the fence, watching me with sharpened focus. What a worry wart. I’ve been thrown upwards of a hundred times and haven’t been killed yet. By the look on his face, though, he’s probably never seen someone get thrown to the ground like a rag doll before.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking because you won’t like what I’m gonna do next.” I shoot him the sliest grin I can manage.

Poseidon has calmed down now, and he’s standing as far away from me as he can as if he knows I’m about to make his life a living hell. Because I am. I turn away from Charlie to get the horse and try again. This time I know what to expect, so hopefully, I won’t lose my seat as quickly.

“Come on. Let’s go inside. I think you’ve had enough for one day.”

The look I give him should’ve knocked him dead on his ass for suggesting something so stupid. Everyone ought to know that you have to get back on if you get thrown off. It establishes dominance and discourages the behavior’s continuance.

“Sorry, no can do, Charlie. Gotta show him who’s boss. So, unless you want to take my place, sit back and enjoy the show, darlin’.” I blow him a kiss and swiftly flip him the bird right after, turning back to Poseidon.

I don’t hear any more objections. At least he knows when he’s lost. I’ve been doing this far too long to let a man show up and tell me when it’s time to quit. I know my limits. I’ll quit when I’m done.

Swinging myself back into the saddle, Poseidon takes that as his cue to start his bullshit again. Well, yee-haw, motherfucker. I’m ready this go around.

Snack For One?

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