True stuck in the mud story

[mudscenecollector]

I found and downloaded this true story about a year and a half ago, it is from the New york times site and was in the New york times paper in 1987

LONG ISLAND OPINION; TRAPPED IN THE MUD WITH RED, MY HORSE
By Arlene FIsher Kent: Arlene Fisher Kent lives in Huntington.
Published: Sunday, August 23, 1987
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LEAD: I WAS so excited. Don and I and our horses were off to Blydenburgh Park to my first Nassau-Suffolk Horsemen's Association event. At last I had my own horse, and trailering to this function inspired me with the exhilaration that comes from having a dream fulfilled.

I WAS so excited. Don and I and our horses were off to Blydenburgh Park to my first Nassau-Suffolk Horsemen's Association event. At last I had my own horse, and trailering to this function inspired me with the exhilaration that comes from having a dream fulfilled.

Red, my beautiful quarter horse, had a chestnut coat that shone bronze in the sunlight. He was a massive animal, weighing 1,200 pounds, with a powerful neck and chest and the muscular legs that give the quarter horse tremendous speed. I was cautious when I handled him, for I knew that a misstep could result in my toes being pulverized.

Don and I arrived early and decided to take a short ride before the crowd arrived. I signaled Red, and we led the way down a smooth stretch of trail. In a while, we stepped down from an overpass into a narrow stream. Like gleeful children, the horses stamped and splashed in the shallow water. We were having such fun.

We soon discovered that the area ahead of us was made impassable by thick brush. We signaled our horses to turn around. As Red began to respond, his foot hit a soft spot on the side of the stream and he began to slide. He reacted instinctively; his fright energized into flight.

Realizing that I could not stop him, and fearing that I'd soon be smacked into trees and brush, I dropped the reins and jumped. I hit the marshy ground with a thump, unhurt, and sat helplessly watching my horse going deeper into the junglelike distance.

Don caught up with me. He had dismounted and tied his horse to a tree so he could help me. Relieved to see me physically unharmed, he now shared my anxiety about Red. Not a sound gave us a hint of my horse's whereabouts.

I never gave thought to our safety. I went on, parting the underbrush in order to pass. Some of it snapped back at me, scratching my arms and my face.

The ground was becoming a thick black ooze that was getting higher and higher. Soon my feet were barely able to grip the soft substance. The swamp was sucking at my legs, making it difficult to pick up my feet. I shuddered as I felt the slime rising and closing over my thighs.

Finally, I saw Red. The bog covered him up to the middle of his belly. A virtual wall of brush had stopped his stampede. Feeling the viscous mud sucking him down, he was too frightened to move.

It didn't matter to me that I was now waist high in the black slime. Seeing a sturdy log, I grabbed onto a nearby limb of underbrush and pulled myself onto it. I grabbed one of Red's reins to try to turn him around to face the opening. I pulled and coaxed.

Finally he lunged, drawing himself from the sucking mud, but at the same time brushing me off the log. Down I went into the swamp. Red then took a step forward and placed a hoof on my chest. There he stood, once again immobile.

As the weight pushed me downward, my face went under the mud. I came up for an instant and screamed, ''He's crushing me!''

Don was trying to pull Red off me, but the horse wasn't moving. As my face went under again, Red took another step, and his entire torso moved forward and covered me. My hands went under his belly, futilely trying to push him off. The terrible weight was pressing me to the bottom of the ooze.

I couldn't breathe. Suddenly I realized I was drowning. I'm going to die here in this mud, under my horse, I thought. What irony! Who could have imagined that I'd die in mud like this? Red, please, please move off me. I am being buried alive! Black clouds began to roll over my consciousness.

I was not aware of Don's persistent and frantic yanking at the reins to pull Red forward, but I did become conscious of the weight's lifting. He had got the horse to move. I felt arms under my armpits sliding me out from under Red. I felt my head emerge, and I choked and coughed out mouthfuls of the mud. At last air filled my lungs. Then exhaustion and shock took over.

Later on, at the hospital, I learned how lucky I had been. The mud had cushioned my body, protecting my bones from being snapped under the weight that had pinned me to the bottom of the swamp.

Red had been rescued too and was home safe. Upon hearing this, I felt a return of the exhilaration with which I had begun the day. I was all right, and so was Red. We would have years of good times ahead of us!

drawing
A version of this article appeared in print on Sunday, August 23, 1987, on section 11LI page 30 of the New York edition.

[nachtjaeger]

Thanks for posting this! Great story.

[bart1997]

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[PM2K]

Riveting stuff. Proves true life can trump fiction. Thanks for posting your find.