Just remembered this and it made me giggle.
My friends used to lease a paint gelding at a local barn, so we were there all of the time. A girl was going out of town and asked one of my friends to ride her precious-but-evil Welsh pony while she was gone. We got him out one afternoon and were going over some raised ground poles, bareback since he was so teeny. Well, I took him over the first "jump", then the second, and the third. Right after the third he decided that some grass sounded mighty tasty so he put his head down and cut to the left. I went right.
My first words after the fall were, "Gah, that was a short fall!"
The fall in and of itself wasn't painful; however, the week before I had come off Gunner and SEVERELY bruised my tailbone, and I conveniently landed right on it when I came off the pony. I was in tears by the time I left.
Oh, because I wanted to spite my tailbone even more, the next weekend I went to a barrel race and had my rear slam into the cantle after the final barrel. I was in tears when I left.
Three weeks in a row I used and abused my rear. Posted via Mobile Device