Well, technically it was 2am ... It was Saturday night - my less-than-horsey-tolerant other half was out of town, and we girls were bored. What better solution, than a girls night!
The pizza was hot, the wine cold. The moon rolled over the paddock shadows like a giant discoball, and we kicked back and enjoyed an evening of total bliss and gossiping.
We fed the rather indignant horses at 9:30pm... My 3 geldings were the first stop. I called out to them them - I couldn't see them, but I could hear them. They came roaring down the field at breakneck speed desperately intent to get there incase I left without feeding them. We continued the rounds in the pitch black, listening to the sounds of impatient horses blowing, stamping, nickering and hollering that it was wayyyyy passed dinnertime.
With that done, we went back to the house and continued our wine and gossip session. After hours of intoxicated giggles and perhaps one too many revelations, we came up with the most fantastic idea ever (insert tongue in cheek) - midnight bareback riding! We trekked back down the hill, grabbed our horses and headed for the safety of the enclosed arena (not to mention, the soft, spongy sand!)... Our rubbery suppleness stemming directly from our levels of intoxication!
I clambered up onto a drum, and slipped quietly onto Red's back. I wasn't sure how it would go; Red's not exactly a brave soul during the daylight hours. How would he go at night?
But you know what, he reaffirmed my undying love for him all over again.... There's not enough money in the world to make me hand over this horse!
He dutifully carted me around the arena - around the barrels, over some groundpoles, over some very low crosspoles (at a walk). He trotted slowly while I laughed like a maniac and tried my best to balance on his bOnUcY trot.... He took a sideways step and blew at 2 tyres laying the the middle of the arena that he thought had jumped out of nowhere - at 2am on a pitchblack night, he wouldn't have been wrong! He never did look at them again, and we trotted round them several times again that night.
Almost every girl I know grew up wanting that loyal and noble white steed who would take them on endless adventures through the countryside..... My 'countryside' just happened to be the arena at 2am one Saturday night after too much wine. I dragged him out of his paddock and away from his friends, and slipped onto his back in the middle of a slightly cold, but very dark night... I pointed him in every which way; we walked around things, over things, and trotted some unbalanced, wine-induced wobbly circles. Whatever I asked, he did it...... Sometimes stopping him to slide my body down to wrap my arms around his neck and take in the smell of horse I find so intoxicating.
A girl and her horse.
My noble white steed.
How lucky I am to have found him.
How lucky I am, that he will always be by my side!
Love has never been such a simple thing as this.
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