The Tail Of A Horse

Chapter 11:

🐴Tally's POV🐴

This lady called Zara took me, in her spacious and luxurious trailer, to an unfamiliar stable. I was in the trailer for a long time, I think. But the hay in the haynet was fresh and crunchy - just the way I like it.

After the journey, where the roads were bumpy before we stopped, Zara stopped the trailer and unlocked the trailer door. The sun was shining and there was no roads anywhere. It was definitely quieter than Marigold Farm.

It was absolutely not Ellington Hall. And James wasn't there waiting for me. My head suddenly sunk and so did my hopeful heart. The yard was bright and stables lined the walls. An archway to an undercover area was clean and a young man was sweeping the bricks in the ground.

I peered around at my new surroundings.

"Don't get to used to here Tally. We are going to Ellington Hall tomorrow." Zara pated me lightly on my smooth, brown shoulder.

Ellington Hall tomorrow?

Zara's phone began to ring. Funnily enough it was a ringtone of James' favourite song. 'Runaway' by Galantis. She answered it as she flipped up the lid of her phone.

"Hello?", she waited for a reply, "Right, okay. I will arrive on Friday then." She ended the call. She told me that I will be here until Friday and that my training will start tomorrow.

The man sweeping the floor came over to me and Zara gave him my leadrope (and me). "Just put him in the spare stable and I'll grab his tack." Zara said.

I was lead to a clean and dust free stable. It was airy and had lots of light beaming through the window. It didn't have a slot for a name plate like the other stables did. I was put inside, my headcollar was removed off me and the man closed the lower door and pushed the bolt.

I watched with my head over the door, as Zara unloaded all my things from her trailer. My saddle had small tears on the back and my bridle was tattered but still in a useable state. Zara tutted at them. She was posh and rich, she had never seen tack like that before. James wouldn't have liked that. He put his heart and soul into cleaning my tack.

It was almost evening and Zara came to my stable with what looked like a lunge and a lunging saddle. She opened the stable door and put them on my back. She lead me outside to a large arena which had smooth sand inside it. The sand was extra soft and squishy. She closed the gate behind me. I was lead to the middle and she taped my hindquarters lightly with a lunging crop (or whip). I trotted around Zara in a circle.

The last time I was lunged was when I was being broken in, ready to be ridden. I hadn't done this stuff for a very very long while. She tapped me again and I continued to trot but I extended my stride.

Obviously it wasn't the correct thing to do. James had taught me what to do when different commands were given.

"No Tally. It means canter." She tapped me again on my hindquarters but much harder.

I cantered round fast and I was loosing my breath. I snorted. And again, I snorted. Every stride I snorted. It began to hurt my nose. Zara used the crop (or whip) again urging me to go faster. I just couldn't.