Dandy

Dandy is a great big red horse.

He showed me around the new arena
with great patience,
reading my movements,
responding quickly and accurately.

Trouble was, my body doesn't know
what it's saying.

Dandy moves to the left.
Did I ask him move to the left?

I guess I did. I trust him,
I overreact...quick, move him right, RIGHT NOW!
He turns too far right.

Gently.
He seems to know what he's doing.
Very patient.

So's the teacher.

Teachers teach.

I misunderstand.
I assume I blew it.
"My balance needs work." I say.

"Give yourself more credit.

You're doing great."

Any attention coming my way
feels like criticism.

I'm defensive immediately,
sweetly with friends,

grouchily with family.
"Want a fight? C'mon, put up your dukes!"

I've got to think of Dandy.
Waiting to communicate.
His previous owner allowed the children
to rush up, underneath him, hugging his legs.

Wow.
That's an incredibly gentle horse.
"You're doing great." he says.