When I was little, I had a Shetland pony named Prince because he had a white spot shaped like a crown right between his eyes. Daddy took me riding 1 day, saddled Prince with a soft saddle, helped me mount, then off we went. Prince started to trot and I went sliding upside down, obviously fell off, and got stepped on in the stomach. Daddy hadn't tightened the cinch enough. Prince was a small Shetland so I wasn't really hurt, just a small hoof size bruise and a little soreness. He told me not to tell mother. While I was old enough to take a bath by myself, mother came into the bathroom a few days later for some reason as I was drying off and saw the bruise in its multicolor glory. I had no choice but to fess up. There was a reason daddy told me not to tell her, all he// and hit the fan.