|Wore my daisy socks today.|
But Dawn, my riding instructor at Galloway Stables in Linden, had Dakota attached to a lead line and I had my hands firmly gripping the saddle so there was no way either of us were taking a photo -- or were even thinking of taking a photo as we dealt with the instructor who wanted Dakota to canter and the chickenshit in the saddle who didn't want Dakota to canter.
In my defense, it was the command to "Hold on tight to the saddle" -- an English saddle, mind you, that doesn't have a pommel -- that freaked me out. It made it sound so serious, so potentially dangerous. I almost refused to try it.
But I put my legs where she told me to, I sat back in the saddle, and I held onto the saddle.
"Kick, kick," she hollered as she clicked at him to go faster. Faster than a fast trot, right into a canter.
So I cantered today. I didn't let go, I didn't fall off, I didn't die. All I had to do was keep my butt in the saddle and move my hips.
It was a little embarrassing how easy it was to go from can't to canter.