The Broken Horse

I can recall with shocking clarity the first time I ever saw a broken horse, it was horrific. Just as I can remember the first time I fell of a horse and the first time a horse bolted away with me. Painful memories are crystal clear and rise to the surface of the mind quickly, like jetsam from the ocean utterly useless but always there a twisted mess of slime and junk that is not even worth the effort to untangle.
His name was Demetrius an extremely tall bay Thoroughbred with a strip of blurred white down his nose that gave him an knowledgeable but sorrowful appearance. I watched his owner saddle him with a English saddle that looked petite on his long broad back. She left to go get a helmet and returned with it grasped in her hand. She did not undo Demetrius' lead rope from the metal fence it was tied to since she only intended to get on to adjust the stirrups. It was like a firework went of. Suddenly Demetrius was rearing and bucking and screaming in pain. His rider flung herself off as he began to tug against the rope with all his might till the fence bent in submission toward him. The clasp of the rope finally snapped and Demetrius stumbled back shaking with wild eyes.
Gretchen was the first to approach him, her calm eyes never leaving his white rimmed ones till she slowly reached out and gently grabbed his halter. Demetrius flared his nostrils at her she did not say anything for awhile, just stood there looking at the him as his trembling slowly evaporated. She then turned her head slightly and asked me to go grab another lead rope, which I did. She then told me to come into the arena and hold him.
I was scared to, I had just seen this horse at his very worst and it terrified me. After a slight hesitation I slowly entered the arena and began slowly tip-toeing towards the woman and the horse. I reached Demetrius head and snapped on the lead rope as Gretchen let go and went to examine his back. She removed the saddle and began to lightly stroke Demetrius spine till she found a tender point that made him wince. She nodded her head as if confirming to herself something she already new then she went to talk to the rider who was pacing shaken and agitated on the other side of the fence. I stood there looking up and the horse who could have easily knocked me over with the slightest flick of his head, but when I looked at him all I could see was the venerable pain in his dark eyes. Slowly and tentatively he lowered his massive head till it was resting heavily on my shoulder and released a hot sigh from his nose. I began murmuring softly to him and stroked his long neck. We stood there for a while simply calming each other down till his owner came back to collect him to take him to the vet.
I never saw Demetrius again but not because he was put to sleep, but because change was in the air I just did not know it.