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124<br />
Gypsy simply canters without a problem, as if it doesn’t bother him in the slightest<br />
to thunder along the ground at breakneck speed.<br />
When I’m finished, my heart is pounding, partly from exhaustion but<br />
mostly from a mixture of exhilaration and slowly-ebbing fear. My legs are shaking<br />
when I dismount, and as I take the saddle and bridle off I find I have a hard time<br />
breathing. But I can’t help but smile.<br />
“You did good today, buddy,” I say to my horse, reaching up to stroke his<br />
forehead. He huffs contentedly. Then he reaches back to nip at his shoulder, where a<br />
fly is bothering him. I jump slightly, alarmed by the sudden movement, but I calm<br />
down pretty quickly. It’s going to take some time.<br />
I lead Gypsy back to his pasture and say good-bye, giving him a fond rub on<br />
the muzzle. I leave, and he immediately begins grazing as if I had never interrupted<br />
his meal. I chuckle and head for my car.<br />
My legs are still shaking, and the bitter taste of fear is still in my mouth.
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