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When I was in kindergarten, we got our first horse, a bay mare named Nikki. She was pretty spirited, so my dad would only let my two older sisters ride her. (She threw me the first time I rode her.) I was really itching to have a horse of my own to ride, so Dad arranged to borrow a miniature horse yearling for me to "break". I named her Sugarfoot. To this day, my dad will agree Sugarfoot was the most cantankerous little wench he's ever had to deal with.
One incident I remember vividly was when my dad was rebuilding a rail fence in one of our corrals. He had the top two rails up, and was getting ready to put in the bottom rail. I was riding Sugarfoot around in circles in the corral when she decided to make a break for it. The middle rail was about 6" above the saddle horn. She ducked her head and went under the fence at a dead run, effectively scraping me off the saddle in the process. Yee-haw!After a few months, Sugarfoot was saddle broke and she went back to her owner...and I was allowed to ride Nikki after that.
