When Horses Play Hero: When a short ride goes wrong...

Pain streaked across my arm where a small branch whipped across my shoulder. The world around me was a blur of brown, green, and yellow. My heart was in my throat. I could hardly breathe. I was on a runaway horse. In the forest. And I couldn’t get her to stop.

My fingers were going numb from gripping the reins. The ripple of muscle beneath me, which usually brought me such a thrill, was now a source of my terror. I was alone on what was supposed to be a quick, fun ride through our woods. Now I was in panic. I was in trouble. But what I didn’t know was that my life was in danger.

A half-hour earlier…

Stepping out on the back deck, I felt the sun warm my upturned face. It was the perfect day to ride. I felt laughter bubble up at my own thought as I hurried to get my helmet and tack. Because in the two months I’d had horses, what day wasn’t a perfect day for riding? It only took ten minutes for me to halter, groom, and saddle Dolly. As I put a foot into the stirrup and climbed onto her back, Mom stepped out on the deck.

“Have a good ride!” She waved.

I waved back as I guided Dolly away from the hitching post. “Thanks; I will!”

“Be careful and don’t go far.”

Mom’s words followed me as I rode between the shop and the garden. A soft breeze rustled through the trees. Ah, the sweet, mingled scent of Autumn: a fire burning in the distance, the falling leaves, and a hint of cinnamon. Mom must be baking. My other horse, Cutter, followed us as we took the small, dirt path along the back fence line. Ahead two Aspens stood on either side of the path that led into the forest. Their branches stretched over it, forming an arching entrance. Cutter ambled over to graze near our loaded apple trees. And Dolly and I stepped into the woods.

Every tree was a riot of color. Crisp reds. Bright yellows. Mellow golds. Toasted browns. Scattered among them were the kelly green pines, seeming to stand guard over them all. The blanket of leaves on the ground crunched beneath Dolly’s hooves. Birds sang in the trees. A squirrel scampered up an oak beside us. Everything about the day felt as though it’d been pulled from a must-see magazine article. And I couldn’t get enough of it. Lost in the beauty of it, I hadn’t noticed that I’d ridden off our land until I had long passed the property line. I wasn’t concerned though. All of our neighbors had connecting trails that were shared and we often came out here. Sometimes much further, all the way to the river. I wasn’t too far. Still, I knew that they would be expecting me back at home before too long. So I guided Dolly onto the winding path that would circle back around to our place. 

I noticed in the last few minutes that Dolly was fidgeting. Prancing sideways. Starting to walk faster. Even trying to trot. I pulled her back to a walk and patted her neck.

“In a hurry to get home, girl? Don’t worry; you’ll be back home and grazing here soon.”

But she wouldn’t settle down. She jumped at little sounds and shied away from large bushes. I could feel her muscles bunched up beneath me. I fought to keep her at a walk.

“What is up with you, Dolly?”

I’d never seen her act like this. She had always possessed such a calm disposition and rarely, if ever, resisted my guidance. At thirteen years old, she had years of trail experience and was quite nearly bombproof. Riding her had given me confidence and security. Now it was as though I was riding a three-year-old on its first trail ride. And I didn’t know what to do. I pulled her to a stop.

“Take it easy, girl. Everything’s alright.”

Not two seconds later, something inside Dolly seemed to snap. She went from a standstill to a flat-out gallop in a fraction of a second. And I was left hanging on for dear life. I tried to stop her, or if nothing else, slow her down some. No change. Having never gone neck-break speed on a horse before, I was helpless. Besides all my attention was now focused on staying on her back. I was ducking low-hanging branches and gripping the saddle as we slid around curves. It seemed like an eternity had passed. Though it had been only a minute or two. My terror was rising as I realized where we were. Up ahead was what the locals called ‘killer hill’. A hill so steep that most chose to avoid it altogether. It was a challenge to navigate on a horse at a walk. There was no way I could do it at a gallop. An image of us crumbling to the bottom in a heap of broken bones made my blood go cold. Should I chance jumping off? Did I dare? 

I was nearly thrown over her head when she slid to a stop. Dirt, sticks, and rocks flew as her hooves fought to find traction. With the time it took to flip a switch, we were still. We both were trembling as I looked down the hill we had crested. 

We stood there a moment. When my heart had returned to its usual place and my breathing was somewhat under control, I picked up the reins.

“Let’s go home.” I managed to whisper.

She was still tense but followed my direction without a fight as I guided her back onto the path towards the house. As we walked back into the yard, my fear had melted into frustration, even irritation. Why had Dolly done that? What happened to my well-behaved horse? Would she do it again? How much training was it going to take to get her back where she’d been? Back home, I quickly pulled off the saddle and gave a rather brisk grooming. My legs were still a little shaky and I dropped the brushes more than once.

Mom walked out towards us. One look at my face and she asked, “What happened?”

“She bolted on me. Took off out of nowhere.”

Alarm filled Mom’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright.” I bent to pick up the brush that had fallen from my hand again. “But I just can’t believe she did that.”

“I can’t believe it either. That’s just not like her…” Mom walked over and stroked Dolly’s face, looking into her eyes. “Look at her face, Madison. Maybe there was a reason for it. Maybe something was out there.”

It was a thought I hadn’t considered. I began picking her hooves. “I guess - but I sure didn’t see anything. Besides a deer shouldn’t spook her like that.”

It was a mystery to me. Her previous owner had told us that he had chased a bear off the trail while riding her. And she hadn’t hesitated. So why would she run off on me? That question followed me through the day until evening feeding time. Dolly and Cutter stood waiting for their grain, but they were clearly axious. Ears alert. Poised to run. When the sun set, they moved to the pasture in front of the house. Away from the woods.

“There’s something out there, isn’t there?” Mom asked as we watched the horses.

“A bear?” Someone suggested.

I shook my head. Dolly wasn’t afraid of bears.

My questions were answered in the form of a phone call. 

“Yep, several people have seen it. Best stay out of the woods ‘cause it seems to be hanging around. Can’t be too careful with a couger.”

Dad held the phone, talking to our neighbor; but I could hear every word being said. I froze mid-movement at the word.

Couger. A mountain lion.

I jerked my eyes to Mom’s as the realization dawned. We both knew it. I ran out outside to where the horses were grazing. I brought an apple with my apology.

“I’m sorry, Dolly.” I whispered as I buried my face in her mane. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened.”

What if I had stopped and gotten off of Dolly? What if the cougar had been close? Looking back, I saw all the signs that Dolly had given me. Long before that wild ride, she had been telling me something was wrong. Bolting off like that had been her last choice; but I’d made it her only choice. 

It was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt in the next few days. We found the couger tracks - litrally right where I was riding that day. My brother and I actually saw the cougar from across a field. It was massive even at a distance. Would it have attacked Dolly and I? Cougars are a horse's natural predator. And while it's not usual for a mountain lion to attack a horse and rider, it has happened. Especially if we had startled the cougar or come up on it as it was hunting or eating. Dolly’s natural instincts kicked in. She was doing the only thing she could think to do to protect us both. And I can tell you that Dolly has never bolted like that ever again. Dolly came to my rescue, and I can’t thank her enough for being the amazing horse that she is.