My mom's been cleaning out an old trunk full of pictures and albums, and she scanned this one in to send to me. She grew up with horses, and when I was born, had two. Kittle, an OTTB she was gifted after he bowed a tendon, and Cricket, an sweet old air-fern mare (Notice the sleek and muscular physique she's sporting along with her pint-sized passenger? LOL!)
Yep, that's me up there on top. My mom was bound and determined I'd be on a horse before I took my first steps. And I was. Probably the only time in my life I've been that close to doing the splits - Cricket was plenty broad, especially for my short legs.
One set of feet behind Cricket belong to Kittle, and the other, I think, are my dad's - you can just see the hand he's using to balance me. Cricket was absolutely long-suffering. She was always the one we could pile multiple children on top of - turn her loose, and she'd head for the nearest edible anything.