re:Potty Break

[Lynne Glazer <lynne@glazer.org>]

Written by my Idaho friend the day after she managed the Purple Passion
ride, pretty lucid recounting, don't you think?

>If I was on Ride Camp, I could tell them about the time I went out last
year with my friend Doris, who was riding Wendy.  It was the first time
Wendy had been out since her colic surgery, so I didn't want to take her
very far.  At the point where we crossed a road back to the trailer, I sent
Doris and Wendy back, so Sara and I could go a bit further.  Until then, I
had never separated them and had no idea Sara could get so stupid about
leaving her pasture mate.  Wendy and Doris happily jogged off down the
road, while Sara anxiously started nickering and then spinning in an effort
to go with her.  I finally decided I did not want to fall off in the middle
of a road, so I hopped off to lead Sara for a while.

I was trudging along the road when all of a sudden I realized I had *very*
urgent business with Mother Nature.  Wouldn't you know, I was still on a
fairly major road with a horse who was doing her best to take off and join
her buddy.  The only cover for miles was some sparse sagebrush, heavily
populated by a herd of cows and calves, and NO place to tie a horse.  By
that time, my business was pressing and I had no choice but to duck into
the sagebrush and drop my pants.  Sara was still fighting mightily to
return to her friend, Wendy.  The cows were clearly fascinated by my
pristine white bottom.  I had no sooner finished my business, trying to
find some bits of toilet paper in my fanny pack, when Sara whirled
violently, knocking me to the ground with my pants around my ankles.

As I lay there next to a pile of fresh, um, "human apples," I contemplated
the full horror of a stampede of the cows, with me unable to hold on to
Sara's reins, where I would be found some day by an archeologist, laying on
the ground next to a sagebrush by a petrified pile of dung, my pants still
around my ankles.  BUT AT LEAST I HAD MY HELMET ON!


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