Post by Emily on Mar 27, 2009 18:46:14 GMT -5
As soon as I walked into the barn I knew that of all the nickers coming my way, the high pitched excitement coming from the third stall would be my first ride today. Sparrow's Flight spun excitedly in circles when I came to her stall, not caring that an early ride meant a late breakfast. I quickly slung a saddle over the petite mare's back and swung up and headed out to the freshly cut turf track.
What'd want to do today gurlie? I asked as we began to trot to warm up. Birdie usually ran the middle distances but she was known to have a sprinting spirit as well. She did a little crow-hop in response and we got lined up at the start line. Her coal black hooves barely touched the ground as she pranced. Then, with a swift motion from me, she leaped into the air and began to fly. I decided to do an short-average length of 7 furlongs for the day and let her keep up the pace. As the third pole passed I let her settle slightly into a smooth gallop. She let herself glide for about a furlong and a half then she threw up her head and bolted, reading my mind before I had time to ask for a longer stride as the fifth pole approached. She kept up the pace and went flying past the seventh pole before I asked her to slow and trot to cool off. She lowered her head and showed off, proud of her successful run.
As we headed back to the barn, Birdie walked with an air of importance and as I put her back in her stall and was leaving to get some grain, I felt a gentle nuzzle on my shoulder, a thank you for the morning fun from my sweet girl.
What'd want to do today gurlie? I asked as we began to trot to warm up. Birdie usually ran the middle distances but she was known to have a sprinting spirit as well. She did a little crow-hop in response and we got lined up at the start line. Her coal black hooves barely touched the ground as she pranced. Then, with a swift motion from me, she leaped into the air and began to fly. I decided to do an short-average length of 7 furlongs for the day and let her keep up the pace. As the third pole passed I let her settle slightly into a smooth gallop. She let herself glide for about a furlong and a half then she threw up her head and bolted, reading my mind before I had time to ask for a longer stride as the fifth pole approached. She kept up the pace and went flying past the seventh pole before I asked her to slow and trot to cool off. She lowered her head and showed off, proud of her successful run.
As we headed back to the barn, Birdie walked with an air of importance and as I put her back in her stall and was leaving to get some grain, I felt a gentle nuzzle on my shoulder, a thank you for the morning fun from my sweet girl.