When I was growing up, my godmother, Barrie, had a horse named Misty. She was all white and generally very friendly. One of my earlier memories of her was being totally grossed out when she licked my hand and the spit foamed up. I’ve always been an animal lover, and horses are no exception. I loved to ride Misty when I got the chance…
Oddly, Misty sometimes had other ideas.
When I was three or four, I was riding her while my godmother led with a rope. Perched up on the saddle all by myself, I felt pretty cool. Misty walked along, following Barrie at a slow, meandering pace.
Misty had a lot of room to wander around in. She lived in a field of scrub brush, short desert trees, and the occasional cactus. I suppose she must have either been playing a joke on me or was just tired of being ridden that day, because as we passed near a mesquite tree, she veered from her straight path to walk directly under a branch.
The branch was low enough that she had to duck her neck to get underneath. You can imagine where that put it for me, the diminutive rider. I grabbed the branch with my arms as it scraped me from Misty’s back, and started to yell for Barrie. I don’t remember if I cried or was scared or what, but I do remember watching Misty walk away, leaving me in the tree.
I wouldn’t want to give the impression that Misty and I didn’t get along, because we did. I rode her many times and it was almost always very pleasant. However I must bring up another occasion that was distressing…
I must have been in 5th or 6th grade at the time, and Barrie had moved out to the foothills. Misty had a new corral, still quite large, and a nice shaded area where her food was, and which provided 2 walls to break the wind and sun. Once again, I was on her back, riding. This time I was old enough that I didn’t need to be led, but Barrie was there in the corral.
At first I thought maybe Misty was just hungry, when she headed toward her shelter, but she didn’t go to the food. Instead she turned toward the southern-facing wall…
The wall was made of one-by-six boards, with about a two inch gap between each, nailed into the supporting lumber. It looked sturdy enough to me. Misty had other ideas. She lowered her head and walked through the wall.
I heard the boards crack and saw the horse I was riding disappearing into a hole in the wall; a wall that was coming closer and closer to my face! I reined her in and thankfully she stopped before I ate pine, and Barrie helped hold her while I climbed down.
Misty didn’t seem upset, just stood there, halfway through the wall, looking at us like she had done something very clever. I have no idea why she did it, or what she thought she was doing, but it turns out that it wasn’t the only time!
About a year later, while I was waiting for the #5 city bus on my way to school, I went into the 7-eleven that was next to the bus stop. Inside I saw a woman who looked familiar to me. I asked her: “do you know Barrie __?” and she said she did. I told her she looked familiar and said I was Barrie’s goddaughter. We talked for a few minutes and for some reason I told her the story of Misty walking through the wall while I rode her, and to my amazement, she said “She did the same thing to me!”
What a very strange world… and a very strange horse!
— 02:50:08 AM
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