So, we all know there are stories in our lives that you could never make up, that were that good you wish you had a witness or a video camera.
Today, we are going to share one with you.
Nancy is an Olympic quality dressage rider. She rides the horses you drool over on the television, pure white Lippizans and solid black Oldenbergs. Huge, impressive stallions that are so tall you can barely see over their backs.
One day her stallion, Michael, had a fit of pique and decided to make a run for it. He busted past his groom and out the stall door, down the aisle, out the barn and all the way to the road. Now, this road wasn’t just any road. No. It had to be a curvy, dangerous country road with poor visibility and Michael was flying along. The groom runs to the arena, where Nancy is training another horse. Out of breath and wheezing, we never heard what she told her. Only that we saw Nancy dismount and come running out of the barn faster than she had ever run before.
So you get the whole picture let me tell you a bit about Nancy. Nancy is about 5’6”, slim, and of course, dressed to the nines in her riding breeches, high leather boots, leather riding gloves and her crop. Full English getup. She also had thighs of steel from years in the saddle.
Nancy made it to the road only to see the backside of her horse rounding the bend. What happened next is legendary, and surely has several versions. As you continue reading, I am sure you will wonder what tales are being told at the local bar in this sleepy little town she worked in.
A truck rumbled by, or I should say, tried to. One of those good ole’ boy trucks with oversized tires and jacked up to high heaven. Nancy didn’t pause. She stepped out into the middle of the road, right in front of the truck and raised her whip, pointing it at the stunned driver like a dueling sword. “Stop!” she bellowed, loud enough to be heard by a dozen witnesses. Without another word, she commandeered that vehicle and hijacked the driver. She jumped into the passenger seat and off they went, streaking after her runaway horse.
About a half an hour later, she returned, riding the now sheepish stud. Behind her, driving at a snail’s pace, was the young man she had pointed that whip at, running his emergency blinkers behind her until she made it back onto the farm.
He waved and smiled, she saluted with that riding crop and Michael? Well, let’s just say he got a new groom and a bit of re-education that day.
Now, let your imagination wander a bit. How did that country boy in his pickup and flannel shirt remember that day? I am sure he took a bit of liberty in retelling the story. A hot woman in jackboots and a riding crop on a winding road in the middle of nowhere? Hmmm. Where would YOU go with that?
PS: If you would like to hear more stories like this, let us know, make a comment…and join in on the fun.