Fitting for a Lipizzaner, no?
Yesterday I took Lance out for a hack down the lane. Stopped and dismounted to visit with some snowbird neighbors I hadn't seen since last year, and typically-antsy Lance was surprisingly good during the wait, settling in with his muzzle in the middle of my back while I leaned over to visit through the car window. They left, I remounted, and we kept moseying (he was being EXTRA conservative with his energy).
An approaching vehicle crested a hill in front of us, a small SUV towing a very rattly little trailer. When Lance's head shot up, I jumped off. The driver slowed, then stopped (bless him) as Lance, eyes on stalks, channeled his ancestry at the end of the reins in the plowed field beside the gravel lane. I thanked the driver and waved him by, leading Lance on in the direction we had been headed and the vehicle had come from. The trailer resumed rattling and Lance leaped again, but by now we were on the gravel. His feet slipped out from under him and he landed hard, BAM, flat on his left side!
We didn't immediately head home; after he scrambled to his feet, I led Lance to the end of the gravel lane and back, remounting on our side of the intersection with the paved road. He had more energy than when we started out yet at the same time seemed a bit subdued. I gave him a gram of bute to help with body soreness; he has a little road rash but otherwise seems fine.
Where do these fears come from??? I think my horse needs a shrink!