Griffy and I were having an absolutely stellar mounted archery practice. I was so proud of him – he let me get on right away without a moment’s hesitation. Didn’t seem to mind the other horses in the arena. He strolled down the lane without a care in the world. A couple of times I offered him to graze in case he was feeling anxious, and he opted to walk back to the beginning of the lane with the other horses.

Even C. Commented a few times on how well he was doing.

After some warm up walks I took my bow. He didn’t seem to mind it at all. I tapped it on the metal part of my saddle to let him know he might hear some noise and he didn’t seem bothered – tipped an ear back in my direction, assured him he was a good boy, and he went back to grazing.

Since everything was going so well I figured it was the perfect time to get a couple of shots off. I’ve said it before, but just to be clear I have shot off Griffy many times before.

Well.

I nocked an arrow for the second target and his ears instantly came up to my nose. He began to dance a little, and I know my boy – I dropped my bow to take the reins & settle him down, but he charged down the rest of the lane and scattered the group of waiting horses. I tried to turn his head & slow him down, but he fought me the whole way. I ride him in a side pull, so I didn’t have the leverage of a bit. I almost fell, but I managed to right myself & hang on. I thought he’d stop when he got to his favorite grazing corner, but boy was I wrong.

We hit the long side of the arena, and he took off like a rocket. I had no idea he was even capable of running that fast. I remember thinking “Ok, run then,” and I grabbed a chunk of mane to hold on for dear life. I heard C. yell “Stay with him!!” And for a few seconds I knew how Ron Turcotte felt.

I thought he would stop when we rounded the corner but he didn’t even slow down. Down the short side like a bullet.

And then we faced it. The corner we always have trouble with.

I think we both panicked – he was racing towards the fence and I honestly thought he might crash into it. I thought of steering him towards the bleachers to force him to stop, but I was afraid he was going too fast to pump the brakes.

He got to the fence & took a sharp left. Took that corner like a Ferrari.

I did not.

I flew off & bounced against the fence (thankfully avoiding the post.) I lay there on the ground wondering what was broken when C. got to me. I tried to get up, she told me to lie there for a minute & that Griffy was ok.

When I could finally sit up, I of course looked for him. He was way across the arena with C.’s husband, looking at me, no doubt wondering why I was on the ground. He looked worried. I don’t think horses feel guilty or responsible when we fall – they had perfectly valid reasons for doing what they did, whether it’s a buck, bolt, or what have you, and if we come off thats’s our lookout. But I think he knew something was wrong.

I slowly got to my feet. My left hip & inner thigh hurt. My right shoulder clearly took some impact. But my hand….I knew it was broken. Thankfully it wasn’t bad – no bones sticking out. I told C. I’d go to the doctor tomorrow. She gave me that look & told me to keep moving. One of the other trainers offered to untack Griffy, which I gratefully took her up on. M gathered up my bow. I hobbled up to the pavilion & pretended I didn’t hear them talking about taking me to the ER. I joked about being annoyed I had just bought my helmet a couple of months ago. M. & C. told me I was going to the ER…I didn’t argue. M. Was nice enough to take me to the ER near my house.

I’m ok, for the most part. Going to see an orthopedic doctor tomorrow for a follow-up & maybe a better cast. Really enjoying the pain meds they gave me!

And I’m being closely monitored by a very concerned staff: