Rhonda Ferrand
If you are a parent and your children, or your child is horse crazy then this is a story you should read.As a parent you always try to keep your children safe. I always check the horses' gear for broken leather, loose leather ties, cinches, etc., and check blankets for hay or anything that may inadvertently lead to an unpleasant jab to the horse.
My children were taught from day one "horse safety" and how and why to brush a horse from ears to tail before you saddle up. I have been around horses all my life and so have my children. They have been riding since before they were born. Like all children they seem to think that they cannot come to any harm and that is where the trouble starts.
The only horse I have ever felt comfortable with, until now, was a quarter type horse. Nine out of ten are even tempered and an easy keeper. I'm not into roping or barrels, just plain trail riding and pleasure.
My daughter and two of her friends were going for a ride in the hills. I put my daughter on a quarter horse and after a half an hour lecture on taking a good slow ride, and how I would be able to tell if she had been running the horses, (I still remember how I rode at 9-10 years of age), I rechecked the horses and off they rode. One of the children was riding a little racking horse and the other was on a quarter pony.
They had been gone about a half an hour when my worse nightmare came to life. I heard screaming coming from somewhere and turned to look. My heart jumped, I couldn't breathe. There was the little racking horse running at full speed back to the barn, reins flying, with no rider. Behind him was the quarter horse my daughter had been riding. He didn't have any reins on. I always told the kids "if a thunder storm comes up, (and it does a lot here in Georgia), to take the reins off and let the horse go. It will come back to the barn". The other horse, a quarter pony, still had a rider and they were at a dead run screaming all the way.
I was already bridling up my horse, by the barn and a couple of other people took off in the barn truck following my daughter's friend. I stayed at the barn while a friend called 911. It seemed like a lifetime before the truck came back. I saw both my daughter's friends but I didn't see my daughter. The children were crying "it all happened so fast". I couldn't move, what were they talking about? Where is my daughter? They had put her in the back of the truck and brought her back to the barn because she was loosing so much blood. Her hair, her shirt, she only had one boot on.
In the barn office we had a couch. She was laid on this and we tried to clean off the blood so we could where her injuries were. She was going in and out of consciousness. She was screaming, very combative, and then she went limp. How could this be happening? Where was the ambulance? Why can't we keep her awake and talking? I remember I kept calling her name, telling her "Momma's here honey. Everything is going to be OK. The ambulance will be here soon. Try to keep still, talk to me honey." Then I hear this little girl, my beautiful little girl who not more than 40 minutes ago was laughing and playing and having a great day, say to me, "Momma, I'm not ready to go to heaven yet." I was having a hard time keeping calm during all of this, but after that I lost complete control. I was made to leave the office. I couldn't keep myself together enough to be of any help to my daughter.
At the barn we have a refrigerator full of ice packs, we have first aid kits, everyone has been instructed on what to do in case of an emergency and there was nothing anyone could do now but wait, and wait and wait.
My daughter's injuries consisted of a skull fracture, broken nose, facial and body lacerations. She received stitches under her left eye. She had been cleaned up, sewn up, and put on an I.V. She was still unrecognizable because of all of the swelling. She was unable to open her eyes but just a slit. She could barely move her lips to talk, she had chipped her front teeth. She was a mess! They still hadn't managed to get all of the rocks out of her skin.
Here was my little 9 year old girl, my baby, lying in a hospital bed. Tubes going in and monitors hooked to her. Her beautiful little face swelled up so bad she looked misshaped, crying when they tried to clean and dress her wounds. They had just finished dressing her wounds again when she asked me the one question in the whole world that I would never have thought to hear again. "Momma, when can I ride again?".
I can honestly tell you that my first reaction was, NEVER AGAIN. At that point I could not picture myself ever letting my children on another horse, ever again. I had been told she was dragged about 100 yards through trees and rocks before her boot came off. That is what saved her life. She was wearing pull-on boots, not lace-ups, and her boot finally slipped off. Her friend who was on the little racking horse had gotten scared. The horse was her own but she had become afraid of him and my daughter decided they should trade horses because she figured that she would be able to handle him. So they traded. The little racking horse I had told my daughter not to ever ride, (she had ridden him before and he was just too much for her to handle).
The doctors told me that my daughter would have to take it easy, super easy, for the next six months. No running, riding, or playing. They were afraid that if she fell it would reinjure her skull fracture again or make things worse. During her six months of recovery she spent 90% of her time complaining about not being able to ride. It was hard enough at home not being able to ride, but I managed a riding academy and I had to keep her with me all the time. She was miserable. I let her help with the grooming, eventually she was doing everything with the horses except for riding. My boss wasn't very sympathetic to my fears. She understood them but thought I was being hard on my daughter when I told her I really didn't want her to ride again. I knew she was going to ride, but I wasn't ready for her to ever ride again.
My boss told me she would like to teach her to ride bareback in the sand corral. She has an arena size corral and a smaller one. I wasn't ready, like I said, until I found out that she had already done it. She has a daughter the same age and she bought a couple of riding helmets and taught them bareback riding on a small quarter type horse.
I was extremely worried about any falls she would take from a horse. The quarter pony, I discovered had the same wonderful qualities that the quarter horse breed is famous for. The size of the quarter pony along with the great temperament won me over completely.
My daughter is now competing in barrels and is now allowed to ride on trails. Her horse of choice as well as mine is a quarter pony. We are now in search of others who have not yet had the pleasure of owning their own quarter pony.
Rhonda Ferrand
P.S. It is also a lot easier for my daughter to saddle a quarter pony and I'm not complaining either. Thanks to all the quarter pony breeders for the perfect breed for my family as well as others.
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