First Love

I remember hearing the words horseback riding lessons come from my grandma's mouth, and I all I could do was wait for that first time.  I am pretty sure that is the best present I ever received and my parents' worst nightmare because ten years later I still lesson twice a week and have owned three horses so far. I dragged my mom to Murdoch's as soon as I could and tried on at least five pairs of boots before deciding on the light brown ones with fringe dangling of the side. Then I got a real cowgirl shirt with pink and brown horses on it and pearl snaps. I drove out with my best friend, probably hyper-ventilating the entire time. When we finally arrived after our fifteen minute, yet eternity-long car ride, I met Jamie, my instructor, and Tunes. He was the biggest horse in the barn and the slowest. I learned how to brush him and attempted to tack him, but I was not quite strong or tall enough. I finally got to ride and that's when I fell in love. Although it was only walking, I was sure I belonged in a saddle, and my parents would never be able to keep me away from a horse for more than a week again. And so far, so good.