Enjoy this short story from Young Rider magazine involving barrel racing in which Emma’s perfect new horse brings out her riding flaws.

Emma couldn’t believe she finally had a barrel horse of her very own. A big, beautiful bay Quarter Horse gelding nicknamed George. He’d won the 1D—the fastest division—in their region last year. Sure, her parents said the money he cost meant no smartphone and even no car when she turned 16, but Emma was sure George was worth it.

She’d been running barrels on her sister’s hand-me-down pony, Sparkles, but now she could pass Sparkles down to her little brother, Aiden, and really become a champion.

George was her dream horse. He was perfect.

Practice Makes Perfect?

Emma’s big sister, Madison, who also rode barrels, told her to start off slow with George and get to know him before going full speed. Emma had been taking that advice, doing trail rides and controlled runs and arena exercises. Everything was going perfectly.

That all changed one month before the first big barrel racing event of the season. Emma decided they were ready to do a real run. They measured the barrels, and Madison stood on the arena fence to watch.

Emma could feel how fast her heart was beating, and her stomach was a knot of excitement. George knew what was coming and tensed, fidgeting from side to side until Emma moved her hands up his mane, leaned forward and gave an encouraging kick.

George pounced forward into a full run, the power from his hind end like that of a race car. Emma smiled and grabbed for the saddle horn as they made a perfect turn around the first barrel. They headed for the second, and—BAM—her leg went straight into the metal barrel, tipping it over.

She was stunned. And it hurt. She tried to recover. They finished the run, but it was slower and sloppier than the first half.

“You sat down too soon!” Madison yelled. “Try it again a little slower, and don’t turn so soon!”

Emma tried again, trying hard to not turn or sit too soon. But again, they tipped the barrel. She tried two more times, and both times the barrel tipped.

“You can’t keep running him,” Madison said. “Just trot it a few times so you don’t end like that. We’ll work on it more next time.”

Someone to Help

George was perfect, so Emma knew the barrel tipping had to be her fault. Madison kept trying to help, but two weeks later, the barrel was still tipping.

“Why don’t you call his old owner and see if he can give you tips?” Madison said. “Ethan is a grade behind me at school, and he’s really nice.”

“Can’t you ask him for me?” Emma pleaded. Ethan was sooo cute, and Emma couldn’t imagine calling him and talking to him.

“Don’t be dumb,” Madison said. “Just call him.” Emma felt more nervous calling Ethan than she ever had been before a run. But she had to get George on track before the first race. Her parents spent all that money on him, and she knew he’d been a champion for Ethan.

When she finally got up the courage to call him, she could barely speak. Ethan had to ask her to repeat herself twice. But he was super nice and said he’d come over to help them.

The next day, Emma spent an hour messing with her hair and changing outfits before he arrived. Madison and Aiden kept teasing her.

Ethan had just turned 16 and drove himself over in his dad’s truck. He petted George’s head so gently, saying he’d missed him. Ethan is just as perfect as George, Emma thought, knowing Madison would tease her so much if she knew what she was thinking!

Finding the Problem

Ethan had them do a run so he could watch. Sure enough, down went barrel two.

“I think I know what’s happening,” Ethan said. “You’re putting your hip toward the barrel, so George is moving his ribcage in to put himself under you, and he’s hitting the barrel.”

Emma was so distracted by Ethan she had to take a minute to process what he said. He showed her with his own body.

“When he turns correctly, you want to be in line with him, which means you’re both curving around the barrel, not bowing in toward it. Does that make sense?” he said. He drew her a diagram in the arena sand. She nodded.

They ran the pattern again, and this time it didn’t tip! As she rode back to Ethan, he gave her a high five, and she smiled the biggest smile ever.

“Don’t practice at full speed for a while,” he said. “Focus on the technique. Same thing at the race. You have plenty of time to increase your speed as the season goes on. Get it right first.”

Emma nodded and almost forgot to thank him.

Race Day

She wanted to show all her friends how great George was, so it was hard not to let him go all out at the race. But she knew Ethan was right. And he was watching. So she didn’t go full speed and really watched her form. They came in second place in their division with no tipped barrel.

Ethan gave her a big high five again. “You guys did great,” he said. “You’ll be up a division in no time.”

Second place or not, it felt like a pretty perfect day.

This article on rules to feed a horse by appeared in the January/February 2020 issue of Young Rider magazine. Click here to subscribe!

The post Barrel Racing Short Story: The Case of the Tipping Barrel appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

Callie Hudson stood on the porch and stomped her feet. The snow fell off her boots in thick, wet lumps. Then she turned the handle on her front door and went inside. She could hear her mother in the kitchen, the aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg leftover from last night’s baking.

“Callie!” her mother called. “I’ve got a job for you.”

Callie stepped into the kitchen. Her mother was untying her apron, the one with the felt snowmen sewn across the front.

“Sorry I’m late,” Callie began, “but my riding lesson ran a little late and…”

“I understand,” her mother said quickly. “Everything is mixed up because of last night’s storm. I’ve got to pick up Nana from the airport, so I need you to make a delivery.”

As she spoke, Callie’s mother stacked homemade goodies into a decorated tin box; gingerbread men nestled alongside cubes of fudge. Sugar cookies, cut in the shape of prancing ponies, were the top layer. She snapped the lid in place and bound it all up with a red bow. Then she slid it inside a bright green gift bag and handed it to Callie.

“Where am I taking this?” Callie asked.

“Over to Mrs. Reed,” her mother replied. “That dear woman is all alone now on that big ranch. Showing her some kindness is the right thing to do, especially at Christmas.”

Her words were nearly swept away as she grabbed the truck keys and sprinted out the door. “I’ve got to get to the airport. Bye!”

“Wait!” Callie yelled from the doorway. “How am I supposed to get to Mrs. Reed’s?”

Her mother said simply, “Ruby.”

Callie watched her mother drive away and considered her task. Ruby was the family’s most dependable mount, and she happily went anywhere. Wintery weather wouldn’t bother Ruby.

Time to Ride

Callie picked up the gift bag and walked outside to Ruby’s corral. Ruby stood in bright contrast to the December scene. A red bay, she was the color of cherry cola, with a bushy black mane and long tail. She nuzzled Callie softly while the girl brushed her thick coat and tacked her up.

“I’m going to play Santa,” Callie said to the mare. “I guess that makes you my magic reindeer!”

Callie led Ruby out to the trail. It stretched over hills and across pastures, from one ranch to another. She climbed into the saddle and looped the handles of the gift bag around the saddle horn. The ride to Mrs. Reed’s place began so pleasantly that Callie started singing Christmas carols. Ruby flicked her ears back to listen as she jogged along the frosty trail. And then it started to snow.

At first it was just a light flurry. The snowflakes danced and swirled to the ground. But then the sky turned stark white, and the air became eerily silent. Suddenly, snowflakes as big as pennies poured from above. The white stuff stuck to Ruby’s mane and the tips of her ears. Callie had to reach up and wipe away tiny icicles that formed on the brim of her helmet. Should she turn Ruby around?

Special Delivery on Horseback

Callie thought of Mrs. Reed, and made the decision to continue. She nudged Ruby with her heels and the little mare lowered her head and trudged bravely onward. Her hooves shuffled through the powdery snow that was beginning to blanket the trail. Just as Callie feared that she and Ruby might lose their way, she saw the outline of a dark shape ahead.

It was Mrs. Reed’s ranch house! Callie kissed Ruby and the mare trotted through the snow, right up to the front door.

Callie slid out of the saddle. She could barely hold the end of the reins with one hand and knock on the door with the other. Slowly it opened. Mrs. Reed stood on the other side. She was tall, with thick dark curls that were streaked with gray.

“Callie? Callie Hudson? What are you doing here in this awful weather?” she asked.

“My mom and I made holiday treats,” Callie shared about the special delivery she had just delivered on horseback. “And we thought you’d like some. There are even sugar cookies that look like ponies. I used chocolate chips on some to make them look like Appaloosas.”

Mrs. Reed took the gift bag and held it high, admiring it. “Oh my,” she said.

“It all sounds so scrumptious. But I must ask you, Callie: How did you get here?”

Callie took a step back and motioned toward her horse. “I rode Ruby.”

Mrs. Reed peered through the snowfall until her eyes settled on Ruby. “Well, Merry Christmas, Ruby,” she said. She reached out and stroked the mare’s forelock. “I once had a little bay mare like this. Her name was Lady. We’d gallop across the meadow with the wind in our faces. Those were wonderful memories.”

“Do you still have horses?” Callie asked.

Mrs. Reed took a breath and smiled. “No, but sometimes I horse-sit for the neighbors when they go on vacation. In fact, I have a cozy stall in the barn, and some fresh hay. I’ll bet Ruby would enjoy it while we wait out this storm. I’ll call your mom and let her know you and Ruby are safe here with me.”

A Break from the Storm

Callie thought silently to herself. Mrs. Reed would enjoy the visit. Plus, her house sure looked nice. The fireplace was lit and glittery decorations hung from an evergreen tree in the corner. “I suppose that’s a good idea,” she finally said. “Ruby would like it, too.”

Mrs. Reed tossed a thick jacket over her shoulder. “Okay, we’ll take Ruby out to my holiday inn. Then we’ll come inside and have hot cocoa with peppermint sticks.”

“That sounds great!” Callie said. “Can we also share stories about horses?”

Mrs. Reed patted Ruby on the neck and pointed toward the barn. “Why yes! In my mind there are no better Christmas stories than ones that include horses,” she said.

Callie nodded. She definitely agreed.

This short story about delivery of a special delivery on horseback originally appeared in the November/December 2019 issue of Young Rider magazine. Click here to subscribe!

The post Short Story: Special Delivery on Horseback appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

In this Vet Adventures column, veterinarian Courtney Diehl, DVM, has a hard time knowing how to charge for a dead-end veterinary visit, but the day turns around quickly when she saves a horse in dire shape after an accident.

It hadn’t been a good day. I’d been yanked out the door at 6:30 a.m. for a dude ranch call and was almost there, an hour drive, when they called back and said I didn’t need to come after all. And it was too late to run home and get my travel mug of tea and some snacks for the road, so I was stuck starting my regular calls without breakfast or lunch. I still had not figured out how to charge for a veterinary visit that dead-ended, so I knew I’d be eating the cost. Again.

My first scheduled call was supposed to be four dentals but turned out to be only one. And, real quick, could I just check teeth on eight other horses, all of whom were far away in adjoining fields.

This was always a process guaranteed to take far longer than “real quick” and also guaranteed to leave me covered in stinking green saliva, struggling with horses that I didn’t know. The woman at the barn assured me that the owners would call and schedule the dentals later, but I knew from experience that this was unlikely to happen, and that I would more than likely never get paid for the oral exams, although it’s a veterinary visit I would like to charge for.

X-Ray Vision

Then, my interpretation of some radiographs I’d taken had been called into question by an owner. I was no radiologist, but after doing a lameness exam and finding bone chips in the horse’s fetlock, I felt pretty confident in calling them bone chips, and so did the orthopedic surgeon who had reviewed my X-rays.

Apparently, the owner’s sister was a non-practicing vet who claimed that there was no real way to know if the chips were really chips. A 45-minute discussion followed, and my plan to do more diagnostics on the chip-filled joint was derailed. I left, wondering how exactly to charge for that veterinary visit.

I rounded a sharp curve as my phone blared at me for the umpteenth time, and I decided it would be a good idea to pitch it out the window. It bounced off the ground and landed in a patch of tall grass, and I drove defiantly for about 40 yards before slamming on the brakes, reversing, and jumping out to grab it. That was an expensive phone, and I’d already lost several under similar circumstances.

As I retrieved my phone, I looked up to see one of my clients holding a horse. Charlie was a very successful dressage trainer in the area, and surely he had just seen me chuck my phone onto his pasture, then retrieve it.

Charlie’s Horse

By some diabolical twist of fate, it had been Charlie who’d called just now. I opened my mouth to explain but realized that the horse was covered with blood, and he was holding pressure on a massive wound on the horse’s shoulder. Another awful laceration gaped across her chest.

I leapt from the truck, carefully pulled his hand away from the injury and was rewarded with a cascade of blood. I grabbed a sterile pack of hemostats and quickly clamped every bleeder that I could find. Charlie and I led the horse across the road, hemostats clanking, and I spent the next three hours repairing the massive lacerations and tying off blood vessels.

After I’d finished the job, I learned that the horse was owned by one of the most prominent horse vets in Colorado and was very valuable. Great. Now I was probably going to get my work picked apart and honestly, I couldn’t take another beating today.

But I had to explain the situation to Dr. Famous; Charlie was already holding out his phone with a gleam in his eye.

“Better use mine. Yours probably has a bunch of dirt and grass packed into the speaker.”

I took the phone uncertainly.

A Surprise on the Line

“Dr. Diehl, I want to thank you for your speedy response today and for saving my best mare. Charlie told me that you were there almost before he hung up the phone. I saw the before-and-after pictures of her shoulder and chest, and I have to tell you I’m impressed with your work!”

I mumbled a response, thanking the gods that Charlie hadn’t told him anything else about phones, and did my best to summarize the extent of the injury and my treatment plan. Dr. Famous gently cut me short.

“I know she’s in the best hands and I trust you and Charlie completely. Please keep me updated and again, I thank you, Doctor. This mare means a lot to me.”

I hung up the phone in a daze and Charlie made an exaggerated show of hurrying forward to snatch it from my hands.

“Just want to get this back before you throw it across my barn!”

Ending on a Good Note

I didn’t react, as I was almost in tears at how kindly and respectfully this great vet had just treated me. He had every right to be overbearing and bossy, yet he’d allowed me to be the vet in the equation and call the shots on his expensive mare without question. I was humbled to the ground.

Now I’d get to go home and put Dr. Famous into my client list. And cope with the fact that I had to send him a vet bill.

Charlie smirked at me as I packed up my stuff. I knew he wasn’t done with me yet.

“You know, Doc, you’ve got a heck of a right arm. I hear the local softball team is looking for a pitcher!”

“And I hear they’re looking for a jackass for their mascot.” I shot back. “You might fit the bill.”

I could hear him laughing as I drove away, and I chuckled too, shaking my head.

It was just another day at work after all.

This Vet Adventures article about how to charge for a dead-end veterinary call before the day turns around appeared in the December 2019 issue of Horse Illustrated magazine. Click here to subscribe!

The post Caller ID: Being Able to Charge for a Veterinary Visit appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

In this short story, a young rider discovers what she is afraid of and then conquers her fear. 

Ava smiled as her pony, Fine Diamond (“Didi”), jumped in flawless form out of a tricky five-stride line. Ava guided Didi around the corner and got a smooth lead change at exactly the right spot. The young rider was elated as she conquered the line without any fear or trepidation.

Gosh, I hope Mom is videoing this, Ava thought to herself as she rounded out the corner and focused in on the long approach to an oxer on the diagonal. Didi held her perfect pace. They were 12 strides away.

Wow, that looks a little bit bigger than the rest of the jumps. Ava nervously shortened her reins half an inch as the oxer loomed 10 strides away.

A lot bigger than the rest of the jumps! She shortened the reins again and Didi’s ears flicked back, confused at the new command just five strides from the jump.

Way too biggg! Ava pulled hard, but Didi was right at the base of the jump. The pony knew she was not supposed to stop, and did her best to leap over the oxer from nearly a standstill as Ava became unseated and tumbled through the air.

She thudded to the dirt as Didi landed on the other side and stopped beside her owner. Ava’s eyes began welling up with tears; she wasn’t hurt, but was completely embarrassed. Her trainer, Miss Kim, calmly made her way over and began asking Ava if she could feel her fingers, toes, and if she knew what day it was.

After the Fall

Ava composed herself, reassuring Miss Kim that she was not hurt and felt fine as she blinked back her tears.

How stupid can I be?! Ava screamed to herself in her head. The course was going perfectly! She gathered up Didi’s reins and patted her faithful pony.

“Let’s get you back on and try that again,” Miss Kim instructed, legging her back up into the saddle.

“Go ahead and take a circle to get your canter, then let’s head back to the diagonal oxer,” she said, and Ava squeezed Didi forward. She got her back into the correct rhythm and once again made her way to the oxer. As she turned the corner, however, the fear started creeping back in. Ava turned away and asked Didi to make a circle.

“Come on, Ava! Keep that same pace, eyes up—you got this!” Miss Kim urged her on, but discreetly lowered the oxer. Ava took a deep breath as she once again came around and her anxiety lessened as she realized Miss Kim had dropped the height. This time she kept her pace, and she and Didi jumped over the oxer beautifully.

“That’s it! Good girl, let her walk,” Miss Kim praised her, knowing to end the lesson on a high note. Ava slowed Didi to a walk and gave the little gray pony a big pat.

Ava was still beating herself up as she retreated back to the barn.

“Oh Didi, what if we can never get over that oxer?” She whispered to her pony as she ran a curry comb across her shiny dapples.

Ava wanted so badly to move up to the medium pony hunter division that summer with Didi. She knew Didi would be able to tackle the harder division with ease, but after today’s spill, she was losing confidence in herself.

“At least I know you will always be perfect.” Ava kissed Didi’s nose and offered the pony a peppermint before leading her back to her stall.

Jealousy & Doubt Creep In

The next day, after a sleepless night of worrying about the oxer, Ava returned to the barn. She was just supposed to hack Didi after the big jumping lesson yesterday, but she wanted to watch her biggest rival Kacie’s lesson. Kacie and her pony, Splash, were also aiming to move up to the medium pony hunter division that summer.

Ava slipped into the viewing room after a smooth and easy hack on Didi. Kacie had just begun jumping in her lesson. Ava watched politely as Kacie and her pony glided over their warm up fences and then settled down for their walk break as Miss Kim began adjusting their course.

Ava slid toward the edge of her stool as Miss Kim headed to the oxer. She propped up the back rail and raised the jump two holes. It was now set exactly as it had been yesterday.

“So the course is as follows…” Ava listened as Miss Kim directed the same course as she had yesterday. She saw Kacie nod, gather up her reins, and then ask her chestnut pony to step forward into a canter.

Kacie’s first quarter line jump was nice. Miss Kim mentioned it was a little bit under pace, so Kacie stepped it up as she headed down the tricky outside line that Ava had mastered yesterday. Ava swallowed as she watched Kacie come around the long approach to the diagonal oxer. Twelve strides away, Kacie held a great pace.

Five, four, three, two, one...Ava counted the strides down in her head as Kacie and Splash rocked back and flew over the jump.

“Beautiful!” Miss Kim called out. Ava buried her head in her hands with a groan, jealousy creeping in.

What if I never make it over that stupid oxer? Ava left the viewing room with a sigh. She went in to Didi’s stall to cuddle her pony until she received a text from her mom saying it was time to go.

Try Again

Ava wasn’t able to go to the stables for the next two days because she had a big math test that took up much of her time, but on Saturday she returned for another jumping lesson. Ava rider felt extra jittery as she tacked up Didi, feeling the anxiety over the oxer creeping back in. The young rider knew confidence conquers fear.

“How did that test go?” Miss Kim called to her with a smile as Ava led Didi into the ring.

“I think I got an A!” Ava exclaimed back excitedly.

“That’s my girl!” Miss Kim smiled back proudly, and Ava mounted up. Despite Ava’s anxiety, she had a lovely flat portion of her lesson and Miss Kim was satisfied enough to begin having her jump.

“You’re going to warm up over this cross-rail a couple times, remembering three key things: rhythm, pace and track,” Miss Kim instructed.

Ava picked up her canter, made a circle to try get those three key things, and then headed to the cross-rail. She cantered over it comfortably twice each way, and Miss Kim called for her to walk.

“Do you remember the course from the other day?” Miss Kim asked. Ava nodded, feeling the familiar pit of worry in her stomach.

“OK, let’s see it! Remember rhythm, pace, and track to EVERY fence!”

Ava trotted a neat circle and then asked Didi to canter. Her first jump was fine. She was still distracted by thoughts of the diagonal oxer, however. She barely made it down the tricky five-stride line with Didi stretching to her limit to make it out of the line. Ava tried to regroup herself in the corner, but she was consumed by nerves as she headed down to the oxer.

Would she be a young rider who conquers her fear?

I can’t do it. Ava circled away and pulled Didi down to a walk.

“Miss Kim, I don’t think I can jump that high,” Ava admitted, a little choked up. Miss Kim remained her usual calm self as she cleared her throat.

“Ava, if I didn’t think you could jump that high, I wouldn’t have asked you to. You and Didi are ready for that height, just like you will be ready for the pony hunters this summer. You just need to believe in yourself, your pony, and your rhythm, pace and track!” Miss Kim encouraged.

Ava trusted Miss Kim more than anyone else in the world, and she realized Miss Kim was right. She wouldn’t ask Ava and Didi to do anything they weren’t ready to do. Ava really just needed to have faith in herself. She and Didi were ready for that oxer, just like they’d be ready to move up to the bigger division come summertime.

“Go ahead and start from the beginning,” Miss Kim called out.

Ava asked Didi to canter with brand new determination. She could do this! Together, they found the perfect distance to the first jump and floated down the five-stride line easily. Ava asked Didi for a lead change in the corner and she responded instantly.

It was time for the long approach diagonal oxer. Didi’s ears pricked forward as they set their sights on it and Ava pushed her heels down and focused on her rhythm.

Ten strides out…

Six strides…

Three strides….

ONE! Ava and Didi soared over the oxer, and Ava’s face exploded into a huge grin.

“We did it!” Ava exclaimed to Didi. “We nailed that no good, very bad oxer!”

Miss Kim was calling her praise as Ava brought Didi down to a walk, smiling away. She realized that with her perfect pony, rhythm, pace and track—and most importantly, self-confidence—there was nothing she and Didi couldn’t do, oxers included!

This short story about a young rider who conquers her fear originally appeared in the March/April 2019 issue of Young Rider magazine. Click here to subscribe!

The post Ava and the No Good, Very Bad Oxer appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

“Ten-minute call for children’s hunters. Ten-minute call!” The announcement over the loudspeaker caught Yancy Clements by surprise. Her first class was only 10 minutes away? Time certainly flew by at horse shows before you got to try for a ribbon.

She stopped brushing the horse in front of her and admired her grooming job. Her hard work had paid off. The stout little gelding’s name was Frito, and his coloring really did resemble a corn chip. He’d started out a dull tan, but now when the sun hit him just right, he shimmered. It wasn’t the shiny luster of a golden palomino, but the creamy glow of a summer moon.

“You don’t look like a lesson horse anymore,” Yancy said with pride.

Next it was time to get herself ready. Her show apparel was hardly fancy. It was more like a patchwork quilt of borrowed items and hand-me-downs. Such things didn’t matter to Yancy, though. She was too excited about competing at the barn’s annual show. What she wore on the outside couldn’t ruin her dream of winning a blue ribbon.

It’s Show Time

Once she’d saddled and bridled Frito, she mounted and headed to the warm-up ring. As she rode to meet Beth, her trainer, she was amazed at what she saw. Fairfield Farm had been transformed from a quiet riding stable into a circus of activity. Flowers decorated the jumps and banners hung from the fences. A food truck was parked next to the pony pasture.

She hardly recognized Fairfield’s riders and horses now that they were fashionably dressed and beautifully groomed. Yancy did, however, notice Beth, her trainer. She was easy to spot in her straw hat rimmed with a wide red ribbon.

“Come on, Yancy,” Beth called.

“Let’s get Frito over some warm-up jumps!”

Fortunately, Frito had years of show experience. He wasn’t fazed by the traffic jam of horses in the warm-up ring. But Yancy was.

“I’m trying to get in line,” Yancy called to Beth. “But I don’t want to get run over.”

Beth put her hands on her hips.

“Be brave, Yancy. Yell ‘heads up’ and ride forward. Frito’s not a youngster. He has to loosen up and get over some jumps before you go in the show ring.”

Beth’s encouragement made Yancy braver. She shortened her reins, stepped down in her heels and cantered once, twice, then three times over the practice jump. Despite his pudgy frame and chunky legs, Frito soared over each jump like a yellow Pegasus. Beth smiled at Yancy and pointed to the back gate of the show ring. Frito was ready to go.

The announcer’s microphone clicked on.

“Next on course is number 345, Frito, owned by Fairfield Farm and ridden by Yancy Clements.”

Just as she had practiced in her lessons, Yancy made an opening circle and headed to the first jump. Frito’s ears pricked as he locked onto the target. Yancy held her two-point position and Frito kept a steady canter. They both floated over the jump.

The entire course went the same way, with the tubby tan horse cruising over the jumps. And then it happened. At the very last jump, Yancy thought Frito would take one more stride before leaving the ground, but he didn’t. His take-off surprised her, and she nearly came out of the saddle.

It was both rough and awkward, and Yancy knew she wouldn’t get a ribbon. Yet she patted Frito’s neck as they left the show ring. It was her mistake, not his. He had jumped bravely.

Learning from Mistakes

As the show continued, something went wrong in every class that kept Yancy out of the ribbons. While cantering in English pleasure, she stopped squeezing with her legs and Frito broke to a trot. During equitation, she let her foot slip and she lost her stirrup. In jumpers, Frito had a clear round, then Yancy went off course in the jump-off.

By the end of the day, she was discouraged. Not even a jelly donut from the food truck, which she shared with Frito, could make her feel better. Fortunately, Beth appeared just then.

“Hey, don’t be gloomy,” she said. She placed one hand on Yancy’s shoulder. “This is just your first show. There will be plenty more. But win or lose, it’s important to learn something at every show that makes you a better rider.”

Yancy took a deep breath and said, “I guess I’ve learned that showing is harder
than I thought. But I’m not giving up.”

Beth smiled. “I like that determination,” she said.

“I also learned something else,” Yancy added. “Frito likes jelly doughnuts.”

Beth laughed at that. “Yes, he does! Snacking at horse shows is his favorite hobby.”

Feeling more upbeat, Yancy led Frito toward the barn. Her classes were over and the show was winding down. Fairfield’s best riders were headed in the opposite direction. They were going back to the show ring because it was time to hand out the day’s top awards.

A Surprising Rising Star

Just as Yancy reached the cross-ties, the PA system clicked on. “Yancy Clements,” the booming voice said, “please come to the show ring with Frito.”

More than a little bit puzzled, Yancy turned Frito around and led him back up the dusty path. She was told to line up in the center of the show ring alongside several other competitors.

Yancy in her mismatched wardrobe, holding the reins of little Frito, stood alongside elegant riders astride fancy Thoroughbreds and impressive warmbloods. Each of those riders had earned a championship trophy or an equitation medal, and they accepted their prizes graciously.

“And now for our special award,” the announcer stated. “The winner is chosen by the judge, and goes to the young rider who has displayed excellent horsemanship and a great attitude throughout the day. It’s called the Rising Star Award, and today’s winner is Yancy Clements.”

Suddenly everyone was clapping and cheering, including Fairfield’s finest riders. Beth, in her straw hat, was leaning over the rail, giving Yancy a thumbs up. Then the horse show judge stepped out into the show ring and handed Yancy a huge ribbon. It wasn’t one solid color, but a rainbow of blue and red and yellow.

“I’ve been very impressed with your riding and your sportsmanship today,” the judge said. “You have a bright future ahead of you. Keep riding!”

“Oh, I will,” Yancy replied, and she meant it with all her heart. She clipped the ribbon onto Frito’s bridle and he flipped his nose up as the streamers tickled his muzzle. It wasn’t the blue ribbon Yancy had dreamed of, but it was the most glorious one she could have ever imagined.

This short story called “A Ribbon for Yancy” originally appeared in the July/August 2019 issue of Young Rider magazine. Click here to subscribe!

The post A Ribbon for Yancy appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.