I didn’t go bike riding yesterday – at all – and I was bitten by a horse.I could’ve been bitten by a number of animals, normal biting animals, like a dog or even a flock of killer geese. Hell I could’ve even been bitten by a snake. But no, I had to be bitten by a horse.
I needed a zero day yesterday ‘cause my legs went from feeling like concrete to slush in two days. I needed to recoup so I ended up visiting my friend Fran, who I hadn’t seen in a long time. I should mention that Fran’s father is a wine-maker-virtuoso of sorts and so makes his own wine – many, many barrels of wine. And so when you go over his farm house you cannot leave without drinking…say …at least one of those barrels. Quite bucolic, these parts are.
If I had ridden my bike like the good boy I should’ve been yesterday I wouldn’t have ended up at Fran’s.
Oh, yeah, Fran has three horses. No bike talk with him. His youngest horse is a bastard…and I assure you he has this most incredibly powerful jaw…literally took my hand and wrist in his mouth and playfully played VICE with my bones.
So there. Ride your bike. Be good. Never know when that horse’s gonna bite you.
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4 comments:
SO do you have a picture of a cast to post? -- Or are you just tortuosly in pain with nothing broken?
No, no, Shawn, nothing serious at all. Only a tooth mark on my wrist. Navarro is an impetuous young horse – a BIG young horse – and I’m dumb enough to play with him in the barn. Bikes are safer that way.
OUCH! Glad to hear you've learnt yerself summat!
You have got to be kidding. But, then I shouldn't talk. On our first date, my husband told me the story of the last time he went horse-back riding...and he ended up biting the horse! There went my hopes of moonlit rides in the surf.
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