Solo
With all the rains, there are many new flowers blooming
I decided to take Morgan out for a solo jaunt. I wanted to do more exploring in the sand dunes that had been washed out. New neighbors had moved in to a house at the entrance to the sand dunes and they had several dogs that didn't seem to like horses. Keeping that in mind, I took a different street to avoid their house.
See that skull and cross bones? That's the house we were avoiding
Morgan I found a new path that seemed safe, so we meandered through the dunes for about 20 minutes. One of the trails we were following dead ended on top of a dune where the road to our left had been completely washed out. I asked Morgan to stop while I took a look at the ground to our right trying to determine if it was safe to head down when I heard barking. I looked up to see a rather large (think bull mastiff size) dog charging up the dune with spit flying out of its mouth and heading straight for us.
Deciding which way to go
I quickly assessed the situation, can't go left, can't turn around (never present your backside to an enemy), too windy for the pepper spray I was carrying, left only one option .... charge straight at the dog yelling as loudly as possible. Morgan didn't hesitate one second and we bounded down the hill heading at the dog - but that didn't stop his forward momentum.
Sand dune! Let's climb it!
We swung left around a bush which gave me an opportunity to kick at the dog as we passed it, spun around, and started chasing it again. The dog turned and ran towards it's house with us in hot pursuit (and me still yelling). The owner came outside because her 5 other dogs were now barking madly. I'm sure she was wondering why some weird woman on horseback was chasing her dog and screaming like a maniac.
Trying for an artistic shot ... before the chaos began
The dog made it to her fence line, so I slowed Morgan down to a trot to give the owner a chance to get her dog. The dog swung around and started coming after us again, so it got two well placed kicks to its head while it's owner stood there calling the dogs name. Really? I yelled "Get your dog before I shoot it." That seemed to get her moving. We chased the dog around to the front of her fence and then backed up across the street. She reached through the fence and grabbed the dog's collar.
Me: Hey, Morgie ... We're ok. You can walk now.
Morgan: Whew.
We turned left and took the road home, but it was a good mile before Morgan and I were breathing normal again. My poor horse. That could have been so much worse ... she could have stepped in a rabbit hole and broke her leg or she could have panicked and dumped me ... instead, she did everything exactly perfect
Morgan looking for comfort ... notice her worried eye ... and the lick mark on my boot. You're fabulous Morgan Moonpie!
