When I was a little girl, I pretended to like two things to fit in: Grease Lightening and horses. Little girls love Grease Lightening and horses. I went so far with the whole horse thing that I even asked to go to horse camp with all of my little friends one summer. Once there, I was quickly categorized as one of the kids that didn't have a clue and realized that I was, in fact, terrified of horses. These things were effing beasts! Why the hell would I want to put myself on the back of a giant animal? I don't. The same way I don't want to put myself on the back of a cow or a Rhino. I also don't want to ride a dolphin. Gross. The only thing I'm interested in doing with animals is eating them and petting them, which sometimes leads to making love. WHOA! Sorry, that's for my other blog.
Anyhow, even though I was 8, I was aware that the "Blue" group was in fact, "the idiot group." Those of us who usually weren't in the idiot group knew that the real difference in the groups wasn't the name of the group, it was the mental and physical abilities of the group. Remember the different reading groups in Grade 1? We all knew that the Snowflakes couldn't really read.
Being in the "Blue" group, to me, was a real failure but I endured. I continued to ride horses with the crossed eyed, glue eating kids of the "Blue" group.
The first horse I had was called Mr.Mugs. He was a dick. He was so fat and all he wanted to do was eat and walk in circles, which wasn't helping my plight in getting out of the "Blue" group. I began to spiral further into a world I didn't want to be in. Glue started to look tastier and tastier.One day we had to brush or horses. This meant that I had to get in a stall with this evil beast and touch it and stand really close to it. This was terrifying but Mindy 18 year old moron who was in love with horses and was our instructor, told me it would all be ok. Liar. I started to brush Mr.Mugs and just as I was starting to become less terrified, the fat ass horse decided he wanted to see out of the other end of the stall, which meant he wanted to turn around. Just so you know, these were tiny stalls and I was already pinned against the side of it, trying to brush the jerk. Mr.Mugs starts to turn around and I am now suspended in mid air, getting suffocated by the side of a horse body! My face was smooshed into his body and I had been lifed off the ground as I was flailing about trying to get the eff out of this situation. I'm trying desperately to get some air but each breath is just another mouth full of brittle horse hair. I'm screaming into the side of the horse for someone to help me, I throw my head sideways to scream some more and now my face is sideways squished up against him but at least now I can breathe. So he settles into a position he's comfortable in and I can breathe again. I start to cry and Mindy,(in a few years when I was a teenager, her label would have easily been "nerd") comes over and tells me it's ok, he would never hurt me. I'm calling bullshit on that Mindy. This horse has a hit out on me and I refuse to have anything else to do with him. Ok, Fine, so they then give me Jewel. Jewel was an older horse who would hopefully be pretty calm. Jewel was blind in one eye. We went on some kind of horse hike and I fell off of him twice because he couldn't see out of his left eye and hit two different pot holes which caused me to fall off of him, hanging onto the saddle for dear life.
Finally they gave me Frank a horse that was about 3 days away from being shot but before his dying breath, he had a bit of fight left in him and when a truck drove by and honked it's horn, Frank got spooked and started to freak out, galloping around the ring, me screaming on his back.
It was finally the last day of horse camp and my Mom and Uncle Morris who was visiting from Sudbury (The Primeau's come from an established line of aristocracy hailing from the finest regions of Sudbury and beyond) came to see the horse show. They put me back on Mr.Muggs the dick and when it came to be my turn to do some tricks, Mr.Muggs and I just stood in the middle of the ring and walked in circles. I could hear my Uncle Morris laughing. It was the worst.
What does any of this have anything to do with the main subject matter of my blog?
I want my son to do whatever he wants in life and realize his dreams, no matter what. If he shows an interest in horses, he's kicked out.
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