Literally just a bunch of stuff that I doubt I'll continue

More Horsey Stuff

Brian and Mary-Jane Goodrow spent nearly thirty years trying for a child.
Since their marriage at age twenty they've so desperately wanted a child of their own.

But after almost three decades of trying all sorts of methods they were of no luck, so instead, they chose to adopt.

Mum gave up everything to be with dad.

She left behind a life of luxury and money to marry her parents stable hand.

And now at just seventeen years old, I was finally helping my (adopted) parents to get the life that mum left, but this time, together.
And in doing so, I was managing to make my own way through life in a style that was all my own.

I've been riding since I was two. At first I followed mum and dad and only did dressage. By the time I was six I was competing mum's German Warmblood, the only horse she'd gotten to keep when her parents kicked her out and practically disowned her.
I was competing the Bay mare at novice level dressage by the time I was eight and when I was ten mum put the mare in foal.

It was to be my thirteenth  birthday present to have the foal trained for riding, age two and they'd saved for ages to afford the vet and service fees to breed her to a good stallion.

So in the meantime I began to ride dads thoroughbred gelding.

I began to find an interest in jumping and cross country, practicing and picking it up quickly I soon discovered eventing.

I competed my first ODE later that year and managed a fifth.

And then I was hooked.

I began competing more in eventing with the gelding and helping mum care for her mare as she got heavier.

And finally the colt was born.
He was big from birth and we even had to assist Rosie (the mare). But mum expected it considering the size difference between the dam and sire, Rosie only being a fine framed 15.2 hands, fairly small for a warmblood and the sire was a 17.2 hand Afghan Warmblood. We were expecting to get a fairly middle size the, around 16 hands.

Yeah nah, he didn't stop growing.

Not where we expected him to, he ended up coming in at 17.1 hands officially measured.

And now at seventeen I was already competing the six year old gelding at B grade events all the time and occasionally an A grade.

And I'd been noticed.

And last year I'd been lucky enough to be up by an ex Olympic rider who had chosen to coach me at just sixteen, I'd become a regular at the what I simply called 'the yard'.

The gelding was strong and powerful and his colour was incredibly unusual, especially considering the mare had been bay and the stallion had been palomino.

He was white with palomino sort of splotches all over him, he had blue eyes and was stunning.

I'd called him Kismets Dance or Kismet.

I'd found fascination in the name when I'd been asked to name him and so it was.

And now here we were training with an Olympian and three other riders to hopefully make the Australian team. And that is where we begin.

One year after I was picked up for the team training to train for the Olympics.

***

"Gosh dammit Esta get that good for nothing gelding of yours under control". My short ass coach Anne-Marie yells half heartedly as I attempt to calm the seventeen hand warmblood beneath me.

I hear laughter from my friends as the gelding sticks his head in the air and sticks out his lip.

I relax a little and send a glare towards the my friends who are beginning to sober up from their laughter. He's still got his head in the air but at least his feet are on the floor.

"Ok, Esta take him for a lap and then I want to see your test, start to finish", I nod at the short blonde woman in front of me and press my legs against the geldings sides.

He bursts forward into a choppy and fast counter canter, does three flying changes, pig roots, tosses his head and bucks twice.

I manage to sit it all and rein him in, cantering a careful lap around the arena. As we get near the group again I ask for trot but Kismet bursts forwards once again and bucks, three big bucks and I'm gone.

One second I'm weightless and all and the next I'm hitting the ground.
I groan.
He is the usually like this.
But for some reason he is today.

"Esta, Esta answer me", I feel his warm breath on my face and open my eyes, meeting the warm chocolate coloured eyes staring down at me.

His faced etched with concern I managed a smile. "Hey", he rolled his eyes.

"You ok?", he sat back and pulled me up into his arms.

"I'm fine Tom, honestly", I chuckle.

I go to stand up but wince as a dull pain emerges in my leg.

"Are you sure Esta we can go get some ice or-"

"Yes, I'm fine, now, where's that dick of a horse".

~

Hours later and I'm done.

The others already headed back.

Kelsey had to shower, she has a date tonight.

Thomas got called in to work.

And I don't know where Cameron we-

"Hey Esta", I'm startled by Cameron as I leave the arena, he falls in to step with me immediately.

Cameron South. Big brother to