Since I never had horses as a child, all my humiliations occurred as an adult. Mr. Big Stuff came to me as a step up from my confidence builder after a horrific wreck. He wasn't truly mean, just opinionated, and I was assured that he wasn't anything I couldn't handle. SO... early days:
We're out for a ride with friends and they get way ahead of us up a long switch back. Steep up on one side, steep down on the other. Big decides it's time to catch up and takes the bit in his mouth....you know the rest. I'm on a runaway up a switchback. There's no room for a one rein stop unless I like falling... So I figure my best bet is to just hang on.
My mouth of course is calling him anything but a Christian horse and any other colorful term I can think of at the top of my lungs. At the top there is my husband and three friends waiting for me. Along with a couple on a beautiful matched pair of paints waiting to go down the switchback.
The guy looks at me and says, "Talk to your horse much?"
Forward a year or two: We're riding with friends along the lake and stop to let the horses get some water. Big starts walking out and I'm thinking,
"Wow, this is cool!" Then he steps off the dropoff and starts swimming.
Now, Big is only 14.2 hh and when he's swimming with no bottom under him all I can really see is his nose, so I slip off to the side. Whereupon he turns and heads for the bank. No problem. I can swim. Only I didn't figure on my riding boots filling up with water!! So I'm floating on my back with my boots hanging down, backstroking for shore where my friends (including my DH) are laughing hysterically while my boots are trying to drown me!!! Big is, of course, on shore watching me and grazing contentedly. Totally wet butt meets totally wet saddle for an interesting ride home. He never has been afraid of water! I'll say that for him! LOL