Can you create a visual metaphor for this story. I would like the final product to include dominoes. I have been riding horses since I was 5 years old when my grandmother got me my first pony, Tickles. At first, riding was just something I did for fun. I would compete in only the events that I found enjoyable like dress up competitions, novelties and show jumping. I would fall off and get back on again straight away with no fear of consequences or consideration as to why I had fallen. I took care of Tickles myself and loved him dearly. Every day I picked up the poo in his yard, fed him, checked his water, rugged him and did whatever else mum told me he needed. But I never really had to worry about his long-term health because my mum would take care of any major problems and as a young child, I had not yet developed my own identity and set of core values. When I got my second horse, Domino, I was 10 years old. Show jumping was always my favourite discipline so Domino and I worked hard to jump as high as we could. I took private show jumping lessons, I rode most days of the week, I did activities with him to increase his muscle tone and fitness, and I researched the best food for him to be on. Still, Domino would often buck me off after jumps and it was always hard work for me to ride him through an entire round. He didn’t like competing at shows; he would always shake the rosettes out of his mane and feel nervous and uncomfortable beneath me. I had a horse physiotherapist and Ver más