A Hoss is a Hoss (of Coss, of Coss)

This week’s DB was inspired by MySpace pal Sweet Melissa and her blog about courage. You should all check out her MySpace page…she’s got nice, um, blogs.

Me, I’m not quite as courageous. A few weeks back I talked a bit about ordinary things I found myself afraid of, in that case public bathrooms. (Don’t worry, I’ll still get to the horny trolls at some point!)

This time it’s horses. Now you’d think since I am a western writer as well as a horror writer I would be pretty comfortable on Mr. Ed. But horses kinda freak me out and I have only been on one once. Not counting the nasty little pony who bit me in the ass when I was ten, which may be where my nervousness around these magnificent animals originated. Who knows, but by the time I hoisted my bum up into the saddle I was seriously thinking about peeing my pants. I was younger then, of course, about 18, I think, but that day wouldn’t have gotten me into the cowboy hall of fame by any stretch of the imagination. Oh, and it was even better because I was on a date and I was the one stupid enough to come up with the idea in the first place. I must have impressed the living hell right out of her, that’s for sure. I mean, peeing in the saddle is pretty cool stuff, yes?

Well, ok, it didn’t quite get that bad but my voice did take a hike a few times. No, I wasn’t screaming like a little girl, don’t even go there. It’s just that the instructor neglected to tell me pot holes and nether parts don’t really mix. There’s the sudden drop, then the equally as sudden nugget slam that makes a bass into a soprano. You get a kinda funny green color, too. I’m pretty sure the pony, um, horse thought this was funny because he aimed for every ground depression thereafter. He sounded like he was laughing, too. Or at least snorting in a humorous way.

Lemme tell you, next time I am not wasting my hard-earned quarter on that machine, either. Let Wal-Mart make their money some other way…

Kidding. Really. It was a real hoss. An old one, but real.
I might have been ready to try again—this time with a protective cup—but a few weeks back I caught an episode of BONES that dealt with a pony fetish farm. Don’t ask me to describe what went on there (I’m sure you can guess—it involved bits and a riding crop…nuff said) but it has me rethinking the whole horse thing. And maybe looking at my Mr. Ed DVDs in a whole new light…