So most of you know I fell off my horse yesterday. These things happen, and everyone who rides will know, it's always a calculated risk. But I'm fine, more or less, and I didn't hit my head (my proof of this is that my head does hurt, no lumps or bumps, and my hat was not misshapen).

I hurt generally on the left side, hips, butt, inner thigh and shoulder, and hopefully I'll end up with some pretty spectacular bruising because right now that whole area hurts like a bitch. My neck hurts too, but only because I had to spent the whole night on my right side.

I have no, mostly pieced together the events, and I have discovered that when you go into shock, memory is a funny thing. Bits of it went missing, a certain section is still missing, but here goes.

I remember thinking that I should find Ben (one of the cute mechanics at the farm) because he would give good hugs and be able to help me. Ben got Dylan (farm owners son and generally lovely bloke) and Christian (who owns the farm). I looked at Copper and found I had already taken his bridle off and put his head collar on, and he was standing with the truck as soft as anything. The guys tell me he was like this when I first called Ben, so my autopilot works well...

I got taken to the farm house, and on the way saw the field where I fell off. I came off him at a full and flat out gallop (there wasn't a point yesterday where he wasn't running like a mad fool, too full of happy energy and excitement), but in the field closest to the house and main part of the farm. On seeing the field I remembered how I got back on.

I sat in the grass, trying not to cry because I was in a lot of pain, watching my horse calmly eat lush green grass, and decided that there was no way in hell I walking back to the stables. I got up, took the reins, and together we walked over to the empty hay trailers that have sat in the field since it was cut and cleared in early August. I have a very clear photographic image of sitting on the hay trailer, trying to stomach the pain enough to stand up, watching Copper watching me. I got on, somehow.

I do not remember getting out of the field or back to the stables. I remember the sensation of being on the horse, and this was about the time I started thinking I should fine Ben.

Whatever else I may or may not have learnt from this, I know one thing: Copper brought me home. With a functionally unconscious rider, he brought me home to the stable and stood while I tied him up. He did not leave me, he did not take us somewhere else. Should I ever need him, should something awful ever happen, I know I can trust him to look after me.

Great Spirits, I love that horse.