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I’m having the same goddamned dream again, and even though somewhere a part of me knows it’s a dream, I can’t escape. Bandit, my chestnut quarter horse, leads the way down a trail through the woods surrounding the lake outside Carsonville, Alabama, my hometown. Kat, on Spirit, our new black thoroughbred, canters right behind me. The crystal clear sky and unusually dry air make this a perfect day for a late summer ride. My heels press down, my rear end lifts just off the saddle, and my right calve presses gently but firmly between Bandit’s girth and his haunches. I sway slightly forward and backward in rhythm with the horse’s steady rolling gait, enjoying, as always, the glorious, exhilarating physical connection between horse and rider. As we come around a bend in the trail, a fallen pine tree blocks the trail just a few yards ahead, resting about three and a half feet off the ground. No problem. Bandit jumps that height easily and I regularly clear higher. Suddenly a sense of dread seeps into my core and panic seizes my throat: I remember that Kat’s never jumped. In the dream I know this before the accident, and it makes the slow motion play-by-play dream reel that much more excruciating, but in real life, she never told me, never. I turn my head to look behind me and shout out, “Slow down, Kat. Tree down up ahead!” Kat laughs, the same brash, bold laugh that first got my attention when we met. I yell again. “Kat, you need to stop!” I sit back, rest my weight into the saddle, and check the reins. Bandit should slow down but he doesn’t. His eyes bulge and his nostrils flare; there’s nothing in his mind but the tree trunk. I could try to steer him off the trail with a strong, tight lead, but the surrounding pines trees are so dense and thick we’d surely collide with one of them. We have to jump the tree trunk. As Bandit transitions to an all out gallop, I lean forward from my waist, over his neck like a jockey, and loosen the reins so his neck can stretch and arc. With the downed tree a yard away, Bandit snorts with excitement. My heart races and my stomach sinks.
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