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Life In Jeopardy

by Corinne Smelker 
05/28/19
For Sale
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“Come on Sebastian! Tammy!” I whistled and the dogs, mother and son, mixed Rottweiler and Labrador came running out of the house, and darted between Rory O’Brien’s legs as I mounted him. Rory, my gorgeous 17-hand chestnut thoroughbred, irritably moved his hooves as the dogs continued their antics.

“That’s enough, you two,” I laughed as I ensured my riding helmet was firmly ensconced on my head of red curls. My father had joked that the reason I’d fallen in love with Rory was because we matched. Not true. Well maybe, just a little.

It was the perfect afternoon for an ‘out ride’, along the dirt roads that surrounded our smallholding and other plots. The dogs settled down as we trotted down the driveway and onto the dirt road. Most properties were set back from the road and with at least 20 acres of land per owner, there was plenty of bush, trees and open land for the dogs to investigate. As Rory and I wended our way down the path, the dogs zipped in and out of the bushes, the occasional bay letting me know they’d found a rabbit or a mouse, or even a snake.

“Isn’t it a great day, Rory?” I talked to my horse all the time. There was no-one else to talk to, especially during the school holidays. We lived so far from civilization it was almost impossible to have friends. As a result, Rory and my dogs were my confidants and I told them everything.

We approached a stand of trees, Pine and Marula, Mopane and Wild Peach. I knew I’d lose the dogs almost immediately – this was their favourite hunting ground. As Rory clopped his way down the road, dust billowing from under his hooves, I noticed a young man walking towards us. “Dumelang,” I called out, but he walked resolutely by, head down. I shrugged and patted Rory’s neck. “I don’t recognize him. Must be new to the area,” I said.

In the distance I heard Tammy and Sebastian crashing through the undergrowth. “Hey! Guys! Come here.” I called, but their bays only receded. “Oh well, they know their way home, don’t they, boy,” I told Rory, who shook his head – whether in disagreement, or because of the flies – I’m not sure.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of running footsteps behind me, and automatically turned in my saddle. Before I could react, the young man who had passed me just a couple of minutes before, grabbed hold of the reins with one hand, and began to beat me with a switch that he’d hastily crafted from a nearby weeping willow. His face was a contortion of rage and hate, and he repeatedly yelled, “Ek gaan jou moer!”*

While holding onto the reins, he let go of the switch and tried to pull me from my saddle. Never have I been more grateful for my ‘thunder thighs’. I had never been unseated as a rider, and my coach attributed that to my enormously strong legs.

“HELP! HELP!” Even as I screamed I knew it was fruitless. No one lived nearby. He had chosen the perfect spot to take me. I was going to be dragged from my horse, and taken into these woods, and no-one would be the wiser. Between my screams and his yelling, Rory was nervously prancing in circles, and I was fighting to regain control of the reins, whilst trying to keep my balance, but I was losing. Just as I felt myself sliding from the saddle, I saw a blur of black and tan bolt out of the woods and attach itself to the young man’s leg. Then a blur of gold joined in, and my two dogs, my saviours, wrestled that man to the ground. I didn’t look back, I took charge of the reins and let Rory have his head. He bolted and it was all I could to hold onto his neck for dear life.

Soon after, the dogs running flat out caught up to us. I dismounted and hugged their necks while they panted into my ear. Never before I had been so grateful to two goofy mutts. I owed them my life.

Sebastian and Tammy are long since dead. Dogs have come and gone in my life since those days. I live in a different country now too. But whenever I go out, whether to walk, or to run, I always, always, take a dog or two with me.

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 *I’m going to kill you.