I fall off... often enough. Because I suck at riding and it's never my horse's fault.
LAST time was back in the very early spring though. Trigger didn't like all the criss-crossing cattle trails on the other side of a creek with a climb out, it was a narrow creek, I was jacking around letting him 'pick his footing' and only halfway paying attention and yakking with my son and my riding friends... Annnnnddd Trigger said Yeah, nah mate... and hung a Louie. Problem is, to the left was a black jack oak, and I don't know if you know what those are, but they're scrubby, brushy, MEAN black oak trees with a lot of low hanging branches that droop.
He went right under it in slo mo, me fighting him and then all at once, a branch was under my boobs, which aren't small. Or medium sized.
He kept walking. I had the branch with one hand, trying to push it forward so it would break (HOW TOUGH CAN THESE THINGS BE!?). Trigger kept walking.
I leaned back. And back... and back... hoping it would go over my boobs while pushing on it. I dropped a single rein (I ride with 8 ft split reins)...
Trigger kept walking... and Trigger actually walks very briskly.
I uttered (Okay, growled/yelled) STOP YOU IGNERT BAST&^%! He didn't. I felt the hair of his butt on the back of my neck, I was leaned back that far, tree branch still not clearing my boobs, but bending with us as Trigger walked.
Y'know what happens when a long bow is drawn to full draw? Eventually that energy has to go somewhere, like... the arrow when you release the string.
The tree branch reached that point... didn't break... and SPROING... swept back and carried me with it right out of the saddle and off Trigger's buttocks. I landed on my lower back and then WUMP, flat on my back like a sack of potatoes.
He kept walking... and circled around and met me where he's walked under the tree, me covered in loam, leaves, and missing my glasses. My drawers were also full of dirt, and he thought I was gonnae beat 'im. All I could do was laugh. In fact, we were all laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our faces.
I have no advice what to do in case of a fall... I've not figured it out yet myself. I tend to get an iron grip on the saddle horn or the cheyenne roll if I feel myself loosening up in the saddle.
Oh... the time before that was two years ago, in December. I still had Leroy and he was notorious for fighting me so hard he'd stumble butt around on trails. He is a pig headed, straight line thinker. He fought me so hard about going through a honey locust tree that I IN NO WAY WANTED ANY PART OF, that he fell on his face. I fell off.
That time it was my horse's fault.
"We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us."