Trail rides, comics and doctors
Last week, one of Bonnie's regulars at the Texas Roadhouse invited both of us to go on a trail ride with him, as he has a four-horse trailer and goes trail riding every Sunday. We agreed, as we haven't ridden anywhere but our own tiny pasture in months. Before we went, Bonnie warned me that this guy was redneck to the extreme, and she wasn't exaggerating. I was very glad that we'd both taken precautions (knives, mace, etc...). Also, it turned out that his trailer is a very rusty old stock trailer, and I wasn't too sure about putting Sharif in there. Sharif wasn't too sure about it either, not that I blame him. I also wasn't too pleased about how roughly he was handling the horses, though he wasn't nearly as bad as the assholes back at the Hellhole stable*. Eventually though, the horses were loaded and calmed down, and we set off.
We somehow arrived at his friends' house in one piece, and were soon saddled up and ready to go. His friends, by the way, were just as redneck as he is, complete with broken toys, cars and tractors in their yard, duct-taped fencing, and a four-year-old boy running around in his underwear. The kid was sweet and Sharif liked him, but I couldn't understand a word he said. Anyway, we set off, and were assured that it would be a very short trail ride (all four of us are out of shape and we made that very clear to Sir Redneck), and we figured it'd only be a five mile trip. Lies.
He took us on a twelve-mile route to the river, randomly beat on his poor mare for no reason and went on about how well-behaved she normally is, "but t'day she's jes' actin' up, and she cain't be doin' that shit." This despite repeated threats to take his whip away and beat him with it. I sorely regret not doing so. Also, much of the chosen path involved gravel roads which were very hard on our horses' hooves. I could feel Sharif wincing with every step. He even started panting and trying to go into the sticker-bushes, he was hurting so bad. Bonnie and I actually got off to walk during these stretches, and damned if those stones didn't hurt my well-booted feet as well. I felt so bad for our horses, but more-so for his horse, as he couldn't be arsed to ease her burden. Fortunately there were some places where it was safe to ride to the side of the road, so the poor horses got at least some relief.
I should also mention that it was extremely hot and extremely humid, and we were all feeling it. I can't tell you how happy I was to finally make it to the river. I got off and walked Sharif into it at first to get him used to it (he's always been hydrophobic and I didn't want to rush him), and he ended up stepping on the back of my foot, causing me to lose my balance and fall in, which felt good but killed my cellphone, as I had stupidly forgotten to take it off of my hip. Anyway, I got back on and we all played around in the river for a little while before heading back a different route. This trail was only a three mile ride from his friends' house, and I can't for the life of me figure out why we didn't take that one to begin with. It would have saved all of us endless amounts of pain. Our horses wouldn't have had to go over all of that awful gravel, my knees and back wouldn't have been hurting so badly that I was almost in tears, nor would we be dehydrated because we'd polished off all six bottles of water and Powerade by the seventh mile.
There were bright spots, though. Sharif and Rippy behaved like utter angels, all of the motorists who passed us were very polite, and seeing how Sir Redneck rode made me feel better about my own riding. Plus, it was nice just to be able to go on a real trail ride for a change, no matter how very, very painful it ended up being. If there's a next time we'll just have to lay down some ground rules, such as:
1)Leave the goddamn whip at home and stop trying to show off, you cock. We're not impressed.
2) We're riding on the short trail whether you like it or not.
3) Stop hitting on me, you stupid troll, or you won't be riding for a long time.
4) If you're going to lie about your horse's origins, at least keep your lies straight. Either she'd never been trailered in her life before you got her or you got her from a lady who had her shipped from Arkansas.
5) The reason none of the other waitstaff at the Texas Roadhouse will talk to you is because you never leave more than a dollar as a tip. Bonnie only tolerates you because you're a horse-person and she's a living saint.
Anyway. Our wonderful, patient horses got lots of cookies and an extra-long hosing off when we got home, and we're giving them the week off (well, us too. I haven't been able to walk without a cane since).
Next topic. I went to a new doctor yesterday, and was very pleased with him. He actually listened to me and instead of saying "well, I don't think it's this, but we'll test for it anyway, just to rule it out" like all of my other doctors have done. Rather, he tested me for what he thinks is wrong, and what d'you know! We actually found part of the problem. It turns out that I'm anemic, and I'm now on iron supplements. There are a few more tests that need to be done, because he doesn't think that's the only problem, but I'm just so glad to finally have a doctor who's actually interested in finding out what's really wrong, rather than just guessing. Also, when we talked about my bad periods, he believed me when I told him that birth control pills have a terrible affect on me. ~ded from surprise~
So, to celebrate having a competent doctor, Bonnie and I went to Barnes & Noble, where I got some writing done and bought the first Fables story arc and Night Watch. I am a happy fangirl.
Goddamn, that was tl;dr.
*Which, I'm happy to note, is losing boarders left and right. Serves the bastards right.