Horsewoman Book 1: Best Of Equitation

Chapter 7

"Second?! Way to go, Cris! And Skye, of course," Jas cheered when I walked off of the podium. "Thank you! When are you and Dandy going to halter?" I asked. Dandelion was Jas's Palomino Quarter horse mare. "Remember?" Jas reminded me, "We're competing against each other!" I slapped my hand to my mouth. "You're right! You're against Misty, right?" Jas nodded. "Well, prepare to lose!" I laughed playfully. I checked my watch and said, "Time for me to head home."

"So, are you happy with your results today?" Mom asked me in the car. She and I were in the back, Danni sat in front, and Ella and Troy were in the back. I looked at Mom, then at the 1st and 2nd ribbons in my lap. "Whadya think, Mom?" I asked, then looked at Mom's lap, which held two 1sts and three 2nds. "What are the ribbons for, Mom?" I asked her. "Um, red for Cherry in dressage riding, blue for Buck in beginner jumping, blue for Greta in halter, and two reds for Lilly and Tilly in halter," she replied.

"Good girl!" Skye had finally gotten used to the saddle pad. Now came the moment of truth. I took a very light English saddle off a rack. Even though Skye is only 15.6 hh, it was a hard job getting the saddle on, because she kept sidestepping and tossing her head. When I finally settled the saddle on her back, she looked at me and whinnied. "It's ok, girl," I crooned. I tightened the girth two notches, then two more. I waited five minutes between each time I tightened. I finally tightened it the whole way, and praised Skye. She nickered, and I think she liked the saddle, too.

Snap. The lunge line made a satisfying sound when I clipped it onto her halter. I was teaching Skye her gaits. I started by walking next to her, clucking my tongue and saying, "Walk, Skye!" I did it over and over with her walking at my side. Then I took her to the round pen and let out the lunge line. I grabbed a stick (Whip) that was leaning on a green bar and held it in my left hand. I semi-yelled, "Walk!" And flicked the whip. Instantly, Skye walked. "Good girl!" I gushed, scratching her back, withers, and flank. I took her to her spacy stall, brushed her, and put her in front of a fan to cool off before I tried riding her. Yep, ride her. When she was no longer sweaty, I led her to the cross-ties, the ones next to the fence. I climbed on to the fence and laid a heavy hand on her back. She whinnied confusedly. I held it there, then put my stomach on her back. She didn't care. I finally mustered up courage and sat on her back. She didn't shy. Obviously, she was trained with someone on her back. I clucked my tongue, and she walked forward as long as the rope would allow. "Aw, you're such a good girl!" I said, scratching her soft spot under her mane. I slid off her smooth back and put the lunge line back onto her halter. I untied the cross-ties and went back to the arena. I flicked the stick and said, "Trot!" Skye lunged forward in a high-stepping trot. Canter, lope, and gallop worked also. "Well, that was a waste of time!" I said to a sweaty horse. Skye nickered. I un-haltered her and out her in her stall. I gave her three pony nuts for being the best filly there is.

"Mom!" I called through the house. I knew she was in here, just our house is so big, it's hard to find people. I started by looking in the kitchen. Our kitchen is pretty big. There's a large granite island in the middle, with a pizza bar next to the fridge. But Mom wasn't there. Next I checked in Mom and Dad's room. Nothing. So I went to my bedroom. My bedroom is the best room in the house. Three of the walls are robin-egg blue, my favorite color. One wall is a pinkish-tan wallpaper, covered with silhouettes of paint horses. My loft bed, which is as high and fluffy as a cloud, was in a corner. On the right wall was a huge oval of windows. I peered out the windows and spotted a black spot in the distance, running toward our house. At first, I thought it was our black heifer, Sam. But as it got closer, I drew my breath in. It was a horse!

I watched as the horse ran toward the barn. When I saw it in the distance, I'd pegged it as a Criollo, a native Argentinian breed. But now I could see it was a black Quarter Horse mare. I took the spiral stairs two at a time as I rushed to the door. I flung it open and ran to where the horse was. When I saw her up close, I gasped.