Heart and Soul

Chapter 12

I flourished in that barn, but there always was a dark spot within me, almost like a shadow of what I could have been. And like a shadow it never left me.

Slowly but surely I was broken in again and taught the ways of dressage. The humans called me Charm, but all the horses called my Whiskey. And just as Muneca said, many of the horses were sold. Crystal, Zoe, Radiance, Flash, Blanca, and Argie were all sold within the first year I was there. Muneca told me the humans checked up on them often, but the barn wasn't the same without them.

In their place came Wings, Thanagar, Misty, Angel, Goose, and Dove. Misty and Angel were sold to the same home within a month, then Thanagar was shipped all the way to Florida to compete in Wellington. Wings went to New York, and Goose was retrained as a ranch horse.

Dama went off to play polo in Palm Beach with Tango, Noble, Lu, and Mac. It seemed horses were always coming and going, and I knew I would be going soon enough.

I had fattened up and was performing at level one in dressage and schooling level two. My coat gleamed, but I was still depressed. Something was missing from my life, something as vital as water or food. I was treated kindly by Bay Woman, Roan Man, and Tobiano Lady, but I never felt that they loved me.

I knew, that a long time ago, someone had loved me with all her heart and soul, and when I left a piece of me stayed with her, and that piece was what I was missing. I knew the person missed me too, but I didn't know who they were. Day in and day out I struggled to remember, and it came back to me in snatches: a laughing child, two young puppies, a warm stall and a huge field, two friends, a red head.

One morning someone different came to ride me. Her father called her Molly, and she was a good rider.  She asked for a walk, trot, and canter, flying changes, walk pirouettes, lengthening and collecting, free walk, and stretchy trot. Pleased, she halted me at X and saluted.

"She's pretty well trained." She said, giving my neck a loveless slap.

"Alright Molly, we'll take her."

"Fine." She replied, dismounting. "We ship her on Friday."

I watched as the man wrote something in a small book, then ripped it out and handed it to Bay Woman. She shook his hand, then lead me away. I was untacked and put back in my stall, but something wasn't right.

"Where's Tootsie?" I asked, the barn was awfully quiet without him.

"He's gone." Replied Muneca mournfully. "He was put down today, while you were in your field. His lungs just gave up. He was a fighter though, and fought until his very last breath. Did you know how old he was?"

"How old?" I asked, in shock at his death.

"Forty two. He was forty two years old."

A few days later I was loaded into a trailer bound for Pennsylvania. Muneca whinnied goodbye and I whinnied back, more than a little nervous. The driver learned the hard way that I didn't tie and I gave him a bloody nose.

The drive lasted a few days, but this time I was given water every hour or so and had a hay net to eat from. I had the window to look out and as I watched the scenery fly by I remembered a similar trip with a Paloma, then I remembered something I hadn't before: a dog fight. I heard the vicious snarls as a pup took on an adult, but for what?

As I was pondering this new development the trailer eased to a stop outside a huge barn. It was two stories, regal, stately, and immaculately clean. Not a piece of manure littered the walkways and not a pile of hay was in sight. I didn't think I'd like it here.

Molly undid the butt bar and when I backed out she grabbed my halter.

"Why wasn't she tied?" She demanded to the driver of the truck.

"Well, Missy,"

"Don't 'missy' me! I demand to know why my expensive new eventing horse wasn't secured!"

"Well, uh..."

"You idiot! You could have killed her!"

Father put his hand on Molly's shoulder to calm her. "Now Darlin' I'm sure this was just a mistake. Wasn't it Bill?"

"Uh, yeah. I forgot."

"Well remember next time, Bill." She spat, leading me away with a jerk to my halter. I knew right then that I didn't like this girl.

She put me in a stall and closed the door without a second glance. "Melissa!" She called to a young girl in glasses wearing jeans and a tee shirt.

"Oh, uh, yes Molly?"

"I need her ready to go in ten minutes. Now!"

"Yes Molly!" Melissa said, grabbing a lead rope from a hook on the wall. As soon as Molly had disappeared around the corner Melissa stroked my muzzle. "She's a jerk, to humans and horses. Just do what she says and you'll be okay."

She then moved my forelock aside and traced my star. The feeling was so familiar... then it hit me:

Blair.

Blair used to trace my star like that. And there was his face, as clear as day in my mind. A dark brown complexion, an almost toothless and always smiling mouth, a toothpick always in the corner of it. Short, wiry hair, black mixed with grey to create an almost peppery hair color.

I felt a tug on my heart, I missed him. Melissa led me from my stall and put me in the wash stall, but when she tried to tie me up and I threatened to rear, tossing my head and lifting my forelegs from the ground a few inches.

She backed off, then just held my lead while she brushed me down and tacked me up.

Molly took me without a word of thanks, rode me, jumped me and did dressage,  put me away, then Melissa fed me and put on a cooler or sheet. This was how we spent our first few months together, and when we were approaching a year together she decided to enter me in a show.