Her legs bent with the changed rhythm of the gait, but I could tell by how far Blanca’s head was angled down that Liv was pulling too hard on the reins to try and keep her balance. Liv urged Blanca into a trot and stood up in the stirrups. Every once in a while we’d play the game when it was just us, but she was very careful with Liv. She had been all sorts of spirited when she was younger, and her and I had numerous discussions and arguments about that fact, but she was in her late teens now and had settled into a middle-aged comfort zone.
Blanca was my horse - a beautiful white Appaloosa with just a smattering of black on her flanks and hindquarters. I still needed to make a living, so boarding and hosting trail rides covered the difference. My government disability helped, but it wasn’t enough to make all the ends meet. I mean, what little girl doesn’t want a horse at some point? The fact we had several only made it better. Today was Liv’s tenth birthday, so I’m sure you can imagine her delight. My wife didn’t want Liv riding alone until she was at least ten, but riding with me was okay. Better for Liv to learn the regular way before teaching her anything more advanced. Truth be told, the aging mare didn’t need the reins at all, but not all horses were trained to respond to neck taps or voice commands. Ten-year-old exasperation crept into her voice, but it just made me smile. She only needs a little of a tug for direction.” You wouldn’t want someone yanking hard on your mouth. I was proud of my little girl riding Blanca on her own, but it terrified me she might fall off.
What else was I supposed to say? Being a single dad was both the scariest and most rewarding thing I’d ever done in my life, and that was counting three tours in Afghanistan and getting shot twice.
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