When I was about 4 months pregnant with Maisy, I had a horrible dream that Sampson slashed me to bits and got me sent to the hospital. The next day at therapy, someone was running a lawn mower outside the arena and he got all freaked out. So I untied him before he hung himself and tried to lunge him to get his mind off of it. I'm already a little nervous because of my foreboding dream, then he keeps turning to face me instead of lunging and I'm thinking, "this is it, he's going to kill me." Anyway, got through it. Still alive.
When I was about 7 months pregnant, I had caught him to get his feet trimmed. While we were waiting for the ferrier, he started dancing and getting upset. Again. Took off a bit of my finger (my OBGYN was not too happy with me.) So I became afraid of my own dang horse.
Getting his feet trimmed again today, in the snow, kinda spooky. So he started his little fit. But this time I stood my ground. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking like all the times before. But I didn't cave. I wanted to ask the ferrier to reschedule, but that would mean that Sampson won. Again. Not today. I'd let him throw his fit. Then I'd pull him back in. I'd talk to him, pet him, while another hoof was trimmed. He's throw another fit and we'd start all over again. By the end, he just stood with his head down, and took it like the old man he's supposed to be.
That horse will never get the best of me again. Dylan spilling hot chocolate couldn't even phase me. I have my A game on.
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