Just once. Was in a ring when I was young. The trainer said stop. The horse did but I didn't.
That’s about as close as I have come, luckily I was able to bail and roll. Think I was maybe a sophomore in high school.I wasn’t bucked, so to speak, but the saddle came loose while I was riding a horse at a gallop, and it spun around to the horse’s belly while I went off sideways.
Living in WVA at the time. My uncle told my cousin, brother and I to take the discus up the road about two miles to the barn. We all three got on the horse cousin first then my brother then me on the butt. Ages were 8-7 and 6. As we were getting near 1/2 way to a creek my brother started slapping the horse which luckily was a eight year old former race horse. Well we were really going a running on that horse. I started bouncing up and down screaming to stop hitting the horse and as we reached the creek I fell off and when I did the horse stopped also or I would have looked like sliced ham. Bloody nose and skinned knees,. When we got home my Mother got a horse twerp! My brother did a real good cha, cha cha for that one which was usual for him.I shouldn't be telling this on myself but the below meme brought the incident to mind.
I was probably around 13 or 14 and got put on a Greyhound bus in Wisc. and sent to my uncle in Kaintuck, who was a share cropper on a pig and tobacco farm, in hopes that he could work some of the meanness out of me (it didn't work ).
My uncle had a old single shot Winchester .22 LR that I used to hunt groundhogs with and then I'd bring them back to the house and my aunt would cook them and they were darn good baked with sweet potatoes around them.
Anyway, there was a old mare that he was boarding for free for a older lady that could no longer care for it and even tho I'd been told not to ride her once in awhile I'd sneak and ride it bareback around the farm then one day I figured I'd save some walking and ride the mare to the far back side of the farm to hunt groundhogs so I grabbed the old Winch., a few shells, got on the mare and headed out.
Still on the mare and almost to where I was headed I saw a groundhog down in a pasture so I shouldered the .22, which put the muzzle just about between the mares ears, and touched off a round........the horse sent me and the rifle flying through the air and she hauled butt back to the barn.
The fall dazed and knocked the wind out of me and broke the stock on the old .22.......afraid to tell my uncle the truth about breaking the stock by shooting from the horse I told him that I'd dropped it from the hay loft in the barn but I still got my butt torn up.
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When we got home my Mother got a horse twerp!
No more like a squirt! Short leather strap.Is that anything like a quirt???
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