This cracks me up
Mar. 23rd, 2008 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninevirtuesOkay, have you ever had an experience that leaves you thinking, "This is just not funny, but maybe it will be funny LATER"?
I have, and it took several decades for it to be funny, and Mom will recognize the incident instantly, so here we go:
When we first had horses, my own horse (a somewhat skittish sweetheart) turned up lame or was otherwise not able to go to the annual 4-H county fair (the show you work toward all year in 4-H) with me. So I took my sister's horse... a much craftier and more hedonistic beast.
The first class of the weekend was showmanship: Lead the horse into the ring (walking beside the horse), line up, and one-by-one walk the horse out to the other end of the ring, square her up so she stands evenly on all four feet, quarter turn, square up, quarter turn, square up, jog back, turn around, square up. (The judge wants to know how well you show off your horse, basically.)
So it was my turn, and I led my sister's horse out, squared her up; quarter turn; squared her up; and she looked carefully at the nice freshly manicured dirt under her feet and.... decided it was a really good time to drop to her knees and roll in the dirt, then and there, in front of God, the entire 4-H community, the judges, and everyone I knew.
She made it halfway down, before I managed to tug her up, square her up again, and jog back into line with my previously show-quality-clean, now freshly be-dirtified beast. Naturally, I was mortified. Okay, and it's funny NOW, but it was traumatic enough that it took this long to get that way.
Happy Easter, everyone!
I have, and it took several decades for it to be funny, and Mom will recognize the incident instantly, so here we go:
When we first had horses, my own horse (a somewhat skittish sweetheart) turned up lame or was otherwise not able to go to the annual 4-H county fair (the show you work toward all year in 4-H) with me. So I took my sister's horse... a much craftier and more hedonistic beast.
The first class of the weekend was showmanship: Lead the horse into the ring (walking beside the horse), line up, and one-by-one walk the horse out to the other end of the ring, square her up so she stands evenly on all four feet, quarter turn, square up, quarter turn, square up, jog back, turn around, square up. (The judge wants to know how well you show off your horse, basically.)
So it was my turn, and I led my sister's horse out, squared her up; quarter turn; squared her up; and she looked carefully at the nice freshly manicured dirt under her feet and.... decided it was a really good time to drop to her knees and roll in the dirt, then and there, in front of God, the entire 4-H community, the judges, and everyone I knew.
She made it halfway down, before I managed to tug her up, square her up again, and jog back into line with my previously show-quality-clean, now freshly be-dirtified beast. Naturally, I was mortified. Okay, and it's funny NOW, but it was traumatic enough that it took this long to get that way.
Happy Easter, everyone!
