The Show Must Go On

We have a horse show in less than 2 days.  Saturday, the 16th, Fizzy will show in Country Pleasure at the Hardin County Fair. Those of you who care, the show starts at 8pm, we’re in the 12th class, and the address for the fairgrounds is 5617 South Dixie Hwy, Glendale, KY, 42740.  All shameless self-promotions aside, lets move on.

I was going to save this story until after the horse show because I know my loving Mother reads this blog, and you know how Mom’s worry.  I felt this situation to be similar to that time I wrecked my motorcycle days before a horse show and did not tell Mom until after I’d ridden in the show.  I did this to prove that I could function normally,  that I didn’t somehow become a paraplegic due to some scrapes and bruises.  Anyway, she’s been informed, so I guess the rest of you can be too.  Love you Momma!

Here’s the scoop.  Why is it that every time it’s crunch time, it seems like the universe wants to rain on our parade?  I mean, does this kind of crap really happen to other people, or is it just me? First let me begin by saying Fizzy has now been promoted to certified Saint, absolutely the most perfect horse in the universe of all horses.  (This week, anyway.)  Really, I should never speak ill of him ever again, in any capacity, for any reason!

That said, here’s the reason why. We had an accident in the cart Wednesday morning. Before you gasp and go “OH MY GAWWWDDD did you DIE?” No, we didn’t.  We are both just fine, by my definition of the word! Horse unscathed, Human might have walked a little weird for a day. Anyhow, here’s what happened. Coming around a corner in the indoor arena, the cart tumped over.  Yes, I mean, flipped onto its side.  As you can imagine, it’s not easy to sit on a seat that is no longer parallel to the ground, so I bit the dust pretty hard. I’m talking arena sand in my ears, nose, mouth, and pretty much covering my body hard. Probably ate some poop too, but we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen. I admit, picturing how it must have looked playing out, I’m laughing. I am going to assume this happened because of the bent pieces I later discovered while inspecting the cart.  I KNOW it was not previously like this. Despite the hard fall, I was still was able to hold onto the lines by some miracle (rope burned fingers, aside). Dragging the cart, now on its side, I shouted out  “WHOAH” and Fizzy stopped, immediately, and turned and looked at me. He stood perfectly still until I was able to get myself together, stand up, and walk over to put the cart back on it’s wheels and unhook him from it.

He literally could have ripped the cart apart, but he listened to me without a second thought and saved both of us the grief. Thank GOD that horse has a brain, and sometimes uses it! You know, when it counts! It’s one of those things you look back on and say “how in the actual hell did we get so lucky?” when you remember those “driving disaster” videos on YouTube where all hell breaks loose and some crazy equine is running loose, wildly trying to remove the rolling object from its self. Parts flying everywhere, a wheel here, a shaft there, and people scrambling around trying to stop it from further damage while it crashes into anything in its path. In case you haven’t had the luxury of seeing one of these terrifying videos, check this one out:  Driving Class Gone Wrong.  Yeah, thankfully that wasn’t us.  Saint status, yep, Fizzy has earned it.

Anyway, here’s the culprit, I assume… now to figure out how to fix that and get back to business, since we have already established that working Fizzy with the cart more has tremendously helped him! I apologize for the crappy cell phone photos, it’s the best I could do at the time.


The aftermath:  I’ll spare you photos of my purple hip, so be glad for that.  My wonderful and caring man bandaged me up, politely telling me I should always wear my helmet for any activity, not just riding.  He might be right, but don’t tell him that.  He also laughed (because he knew I was OK), called me “Grace” and commented on how I like to “practice falling down” as he says.  I admit it, I’m not the most graceful person to ever walk planet earth and he’s witnessed a multitude of “mishaps” I’ve had.  A long time ago, he bought me this little plush horse and named it “Bandaid” in reference to my uncanny ability to inflict harm on myself without trying. So what? the show must go on, and we will be out there Saturday night giving it all we’ve got! So come join us in the fun.  🙂




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