When Horse and Human Collide. Literally.

OK, so I'm taking tonight off from schooling. I like to think that when there is writing on the wall, I can in fact read it, albeit I need bifocals to do so... There are days when Stupid Old Fat Human and Smart Young Horse are NOT a good combination. This was one.

Q was totally in Psycho Freak mode when I got home, having knocked his gate off the hinges (thank God there was baling twine on the closed end as a backup!) by skidding into it in the mud. He gets like this every so often, partly b/c he IS only three, but also - I've noticed the pattern - when his tummy hurts (his ulcer meds are late getting here) or the routine changes or he's ticked off about something.

Mind you, even when he's in Psycho Freak mode, he's not THAT bad, and if the chips are down, he can still accurately assess a problem.

Thank God.

'Cause when I brought him up to his stall, I went to bring in his dinner, and somehow I managed to trip over something - my own feet, probably - and fell right underneath his forelegs, and absolutely SLAMMED my head into the concrete stall wall. It was dark in there anyway, I lost my glasses in the fall (without which I truly cannot see beyond my nose), and honestly I hit the concrete with my head so hard that dark or not, I couldn't see a thing for a couple of seconds.

...So I'm part-sitting, part-lying, part-crawling, only vaguely conscious, thinking to myself "GREAT, here I am on the ground in the stall in the dark under the feet of a three year old I really don't know all that well yet, I can't see, and I'm in between him and his food..."

Like I say: When the chips are down, Quattro has a brain and uses it. He spooked when I fell; I have no idea HOW he got us all untangled, but I heard a swish, so he may have actually jumped backwards over me, or something like that! He certainly didn't lay a hoof to me, but how he managed it I don't know. I think in between cusses I managed to croak out "Whoa, Quattro" a couple of times, and, sensible colt that he is, he simply withdrew to the farthest back wall and waited patiently for me to get myself sorted out.

This little guy is going to be a good one; he really is.

So now my crippled hip hurts and my nearly-healed broken rib hurts and my head isn't feeling too special either, so I'm taking the rest of the night off for ibuprofen and TEEEVEEEE, to celebrate the fact I'm not actually dead! But not without a quiet prayer of thanks that Q is such a good pony. Thanks, Little Man. You're alright.

The adventure will continue when next I am upright. :-P