instinct

My grandpa used to tend herds of horses. However, as grandpa got older, he ranched  less and farmed more. At last, he left few in the plateau. Years after, there were many herds. Every year, my brother and I would round up several horses and sold them on the market.

For these horses, we don’t named them. But we need to call them.  The way we called them was descriptive, like big red.

It’s hard for us to train the horses. It took several weeks to earn horse’s trust. Then we can touch their long faces. Over weeks, we could work our hands under their muscular chest. Then we can brought saddle close him. Once we get close to them, they were upset and jumped a lot.

The horse that was given to me was gelding. Relatively, he wasn’t so violent.

Once my brother and I decide to train the horse. My brother mounted a female horse. And I mounted the gelding one. The gelding got too close to the female horse, which caused the female horse to kick the gelding hard. I was caught in the stirrups. It was my instinct that saved me at that moment, like other moments in my life before.