The Clown

Sometimes I amaze myself with the incredible balance and swift athleticism I possess.  My 17 y/o horse Sheylan is quite the clown. She is much too smart for her own good and knows exactly when she has to behave and when she can have fun. Coming to the end of our lovely trail ride one day, Sheylan was more exuberant than normal, wishing to trot way past a speed that was anything but comfortable. I was all too relaxed when trotting the last field line home when Sheylan thought she would wake me up a little. Suddenly, out of the blue, I found my body suspended in the air, my feet still in my stirrups, but no horse beneath me and we were traveling at full speed towards the barn.   I was pulling my right rein as hard as I could to try to turn her to stop. There must have been a good three seconds while I was suspended in the air, my body weight supported by me pulling the right rein as hard as I could.  After unsuccessfully trying to stop her (I began to rethink my bitless hackamore - where was my western bit when I needed it?)  I finally came to my senses and yelled "WHOA!", at which point, Sheylan instantly came to a dead stop. I grabbed her mane, and pulled myself swiftly back into the saddle. Only Sheylan would spook that big and stop that suddenly at the sound of my voice. I guess she knew the joke was over!  I laughed the entire way home. How the heck did I not fall off?!