Growing up my farm-raised mom got the horsey bug for a bit and altho we only had a half acre and couldn't keep horses ourselves we rented a horse from a family in our church. An uncooperative moody unfriendly half-arabian half-something else mean jerk that we could only ride bareback for some reason. And so that's how I rode it all around. I guess I didn't know any better, but I got used to it.
Until the day it decided it had enough, bucked me off and turned and kicked me in the face (luckily it had no horseshoes). Then I made it clear that I was done with horses and 'Diablo' went home (where he never wanted to leave in the first place) and I never had to see him again.
Hope you enjoyed my pointless tangent.