Let me establish one thing right away: I don’t fall off. It has nothing to do with my riding skills. I don’t fall off because falling off hurts, and I have an aversion to pain.

I don’t remember the last time I fell off. Literally. I don’t remember it because I hit my head and four hours of short-term memory blew out of my brain faster than my medal course plan at the in-gate.   

5:17 p.m. - Text from HorseGal1101: On way home. Just have to stop at barn & check on horses real quick

5:18 p.m. - Text from ImyourGuy: How long will U B?

5:18:30 p.m. -  Text from HorseGal1101: Not long. Call U on way home. (happy face emoji)

5:19 p.m. - Text From ImYourGuy: K. I’ll start dinner (spoon/fork/knife emoji)

5:20 p.m. - Twitter: HorseGal1101 has logged on

5:20:15 p.m. - Tweet from HorseGal1101:  Going to the barn to see my best girls! #happyplace #Ilovemares #whyiwork

And now, a public service announcement:

Competing in equestrian sports is inherently dangerous. In the challenging and sometimes frenzied environment of a busy horse show, there are a hundred ways to get hurt. 

I’m here to talk about one of them.

Wish your hunter had more pep in his step? Want your jumper more animated during his flat warm-up? Ever long for your horse to move with the style and athleticism of a cream-of-the-crop dressage champion?

Get ready to have all of your wishes granted.

I don’t know a man who doesn’t regard the Christmas holiday with dread. Whether it’s from pressure to find the perfect gift for a significant other or the tendency to wait until 6 p.m. on Dec. 24 to take action, shopping rates right above root-canal-sans-anesthetic on most men’s lists of things they want to do. 

Well, men, if you’re involved with a horse girl, I’ve got great news: We are incredibly easy to buy for.