Horsewoman Book 1: Best Of Equitation

Chapter 15

"OK, we're starting with a two-footer," said Brian, who hopped off the gelding and adjusted the purple­-striped poles. "How many horses you got?" Asked Andrew, while waiting for Brian to finish. "I have three!" He puffed out his chest importantly. "Ditto!" Added Tam.
"Well, I have four, you guys, so just hush up!" Said Brian, jeeringly.
"Hate to break up the moment, but I have nine horses!" I said pointedly.
"Dude, she's lying!" Said Brian.
"What are their names?" Asked Tam, like he was testing me to make sure I actually had nine horses.
"Pal, Misty, Skye, Firefly, Map, Sweetie, Teensy, Freedom, and Nickers!" I replied. They gaped at me in astonishment.
Brian tossed his hair and said, "Whatever, I believe the chic. Now, can we please get started?"
"Btw," added Andrew, pointing to his grey mare, "This is Seashell Island. We cal her Ila. We named her that because we bought her on an island." He mounted Ila smoothly.
"And this is Crusher." Brian swung up into the expensive saddle on his gelding.
"Corey," said Tam simply.
I smiled. "And this big boy is Pal."
"Alrighty, enough niceties, Crusher's gonna start," said Brian with another hair toss.

Brian was actually a good jumper. I crushed him (no pun intended), though, when it came to the six-foot jump. I realized it was feeding time, so I led Pal back to he stalls. Even though there are metal feeding troughs in the stall, my horses will only eat out of their color-coded plastic buckets. I went through the normal feeding routine.
Three flakes of chaff...one handful of shredded carrots...half a scoop of hoof powder. Plus one scoop of complete feed for Freedom because I had cavalettis in two hours. I gave each bucket to the horses by color.
Freedom-purple...Sweetie-pink...Skye-blue...Nickers-aqua...Map-orange...Misty-white...Teensy-red...Pal-rainbow.
They all were so excited for lunch, they shook as they munched on their feast.
"Are you all ready, girl?" I asked Freedom when she was done eating. "Let's get you groomed." I pulled out the yellow canvas grooming bag, then took out its contents. I started with a currycomb, then brushed the loosened hair and dust with a dandy brush. I brushed her thick, wavy mane with a plastic brush-comb until it shone, then twisted it into about twenty-five tiny braids. I stood back after about an hour of grooming, brushed a speck of hay off her croup, and grinned. "You look great, Freedom!"
"Great! Great, Freedom!" A shrieking voice made me jump.
I looked around the stable to see a blue, red, yellow, and green parrot, perched on one of the corner shelves. "You look great, Freedom!" The parrot squawked.         
"Well, hey there, Mr. Parrot!" I said, and gave him an awkward wave.  
"Mrs. Parrot, actually."
A voice with a French accent sounded behind me. I spun around. "Her name is Perrie," added the girl standing there. She was about seventeen, with shoulder- length dark hair. She had a Pirate costume on, and her horse, a chestnut gelding, had a blinder for an eyepatch, a Pirate hat, an English saddle decorated with skulls and bones, and a red bandana tied around his tail. I guessed they were entering the costume competition. "My name is Sylvie, and this is Pirate," She said, and patted her horse's neck. I smiled. "We're entering the costume competition," Sylvie added.
I grinned. "Figured as such."
Sylvie gestured towards Freedom. "What a lovely Friesian! I imagine you're entering dressage?" Said Sylvie.
"Yes, dressage cavaletties," I answered.
"Cool!" Said Sylvie. "Pirate here was almost in the Grand Prix dressage competition, but he cut his cannon, and he couldn't."
I drew my bottom lip up. "Aww, that's so sad! Sorry, I'd really love to talk, but I'm afraid I have to tack up Freedom, so goodbye for now!" I said, and we parted, Perrie on Sylvie's shoulder.
I sprinted to the tack barn and pulled a greenish-blue saddle pad out from under Pal's saddle, then hoisted Freedom's dressage saddle from its rack. After I tacked her, I rode to the arena. I listened to the announcer closely.
"First up is I'm A Believer, an Appaloosa mare..."
All too soon, my name was called. I surveyed the cavaletti course. There were five ground poles to canter over, then ten six-inch poles to trot over. Ten ground-poles in a figure-eight shape, to first trot over, then canter over. Then three poles one foot off of the ground, which you have to do a Spanish walk over. I tightened the reins as Freedom walked out into the ring. She cantered smoothly over the ground poles, and practically floated over the trotting poles. Then it happened.
YAP YAP YAP!
A golden-colored terrier ran out into the arena, barking loudly. Freedom sidestepped nervously, and tossed her head.
"Uh-oh," I muttered under my breath. Freedom has always been terrified of dogs, even though I had two dogs, Dottie and Ace. The terrier raced forward and ran in circles around Freedom's legs. I leaned forward and tightened my leg grip when Freedom reared. Then she whinnied loudly and bolted. I tightened the reins.
"Whoa, Freedom!" I cried, trying to hold on. She pulled her head forward, jerking the reins out of my hands and over her head. Suddenly, her legs became tangled in the dangling reins, making her trip forward. I flew over her head and everything went dark.