As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"


Horses and Toboggans Don't Mix

Inviting you to share a sneak peak at the January/February Issue of Good Old Days 2015 which I wrote under the byline of Serena March.

Horses and Toboggans Don't Mix

Tobogganing just isn't fun without speed. But if you are banned from the hills where the big kids get to sled and you are too young to carry the toboggan very far, how do you have fun?
I'm not entirely sure who came up with the brainy idea to hitch the toboggan to the horse but we did it. We found a couple lengths of rope which we tied together to make it longer. In retrospect the ropes probably showed signs of wear in a few places. After all, we did pull them out of the snow near a farm and we all know that things left lying around on a farm are usually not in good condition. I can't even be sure of the length, only that we tied the combined length to the toboggan's rope, through one stirrup around the saddle horn, twice, back through the other stirrup and tied it again on the toboggan's original rope. One must be sure to have enough length to not get kicked by the horse's flying hooves. I think that was the smartest part of our plan. Of course we didn't take into consideration that rope tied onto rope tends to slide when pulled taunt.
All was well with my horse as I rode and trotted through the snowy field. I loved hearing the snow skitter across the frozen surface as hooves broke through the thin crust. Horses, toboggans and blindingly bright snow numbed me to the cold but things got complicated when it was my turn to ride the toboggan. Maybe my girlfriend wasn't as good a rider as I always thought she was. Maybe she and my horse just didn't get along. Or more probably the rope slid where it needed to but where it 'bothered' my horse. Translation: Fillies, and sometime mares, kick at things across their hind quarters that they don't understand or expect.
Sliding at a walk is great if you are on foot, or better yet, on ice and trying to slide but not so much so on a toboggan. Toboggans need speed!
But maybe yelling for more speed from the ground behind your horse isn't wise, especially when you take the rope into consideration. I just remember a lot of very cold and icy snow flying in my face and my friend's shrieks as we barreled over the field, the horse managing a funky crow-hop once in a while. Shrieks morphed into screams as we barreled through the gate and across the dirt road with a car coming. From there I seem to recall the down slope of a rather steep gully. I do clearly remember glancing over at my friend and thinking, "Isn't the horse supposed to be pulling me?"

Keep in mind a length of rope on either side of a horse and its flying hooves at a frightful speed, and less than ideal conditions for the intelligent. What happened then is a blur. Since a spooked horse runs where it wants to without regard to shallow youth while a toboggan, unless moved from its track, will take the shortest course downhill, things were not beautifully in tandem. I think the horse clipped the toboggan with a hoof or two sending it sideways. My friend ended up in the rough packed snow at the bottom of the gully. I managed some sort of head plant in the opposite bank with the toboggan across my legs and we spent the rest of the afternoon trying to catch my horse, which we managed when the horse reached home. We learned a valuable lesson that day, even if our exploits were less than euphoric--Toboggans and horses don't mix.
Post a Comment