Paramount

My mom and my little sister and I got out of the car and walked down to the stable. The owner, Lisa, was busy finishing up a lesson in the outdoor arena to the right of the stable, so we stood and watched. While we waited, I took in my surroundings. 

From left to right there was the owner's house, a back yard with a chicken coop, the stable, and the arena. Behind me was the dirt driveway and then the road. 

A wide path ran between the small stable and the outdoor arena, stretching down a slope of fenced pastures and out of sight. I imagined the view was nice in the daytime, but it was close to sunset now. Horses grazed in the distant pastures, tails flicking, ears twitching. It wasn't a luxury stable and its size was smaller than I expected, but that made me smile. God knew I would have been overwhelmed if the place was any bigger or had the air of a grand wealthy stable. It was just right.

A while later, the lesson was over and a girl on a dun horse approached the arena gate with Lisa. The older woman unlatched the gate, and the girl rode up inside the stable with her mom close behind. Lisa approached us.

I was a bit nervous to officially meet the woman I'd been e-mailing for the past few months, but I stuffed that feeling deep down.

Lisa was a tall, sturdy built woman, probably in her late forties or early fifties. She had the air of a capable, firm, horse owner - a similar sense I'd had around a few others like her.

We four introduced ourselves, and then Lisa led us a bit down the sloping path to the first paddock. Three horses jumped to the metal gate, each pushing for Lisa's attention. One horse was a dark brown with white markings on his fetlocks and face. The second was a gray with a pink muzzle. And the third was the horse I'd been told about - the reason I hoped to be a volunteer at this stable: Paramount. He was a beautiful chestnut - solid copper all over except for the long white blaze on his face. Lisa opened the gate and shoved the two other horses away while she led Paramount out of the paddock.

My eyes grew big. Paramount was enormous. Possibly the biggest horse I had ever seen up close. His legs were so thick and long, and his body was huge in comparison to his thin neck. Was I really going to ride him one day?

Lisa led Paramount up to the stable and through the back doors. She cross-tied him in the stable hall for me to groom him. His winter coat was coming off big time - I don't think I've ever seen so much of it at once. But I love grooming dirty horses, or horses that are shedding. It's more satisfying to see the stuff coming off.

Afterward, I put him back in his stall and we stood there talking for a while about Lisa's terms and conditions for my possible volunteering position. I don't remember most of what we said...I was too busy watching Paramount munch his hay.

Kinda funny how horses are totally oblivious to your admiration and excitement when you're around them.

I sneezed and sniffled the whole ride home from the stable, and my eyes were bloodshot and itchy. Yes, I seem to be allergic to horses, but I didn't used to be. I just haven't spent enough of time around them lately. So I figure, the more time I spend with Daisy down the road, or at the stable, the better my allergies will be. And hopefully, they'll go away altogether one day, 'cause they're really starting to annoy me!

(this all really happened, but i decided to use a fake name for the stable owner as i will do with any other people who aren't related to me. also, i'll be writing more 'non-fiction' stories of my experiences at the stable. i have many already, but i decided to start at the beginning.)

At The Horses

The early spring wind caught my hair and whipped it around into tangles. I walked down the narrow strip of road, nearing the long driveway with the 'No Trespassing' sign posted above the mailbox. I prayed silently that no cars would zoom by before I was able to get off the road.

To my right, a stone wall was set just behind a line of crab-apple trees, marking the property's boundary. And beyond that, large field split into two sections by white, plastic fences.

I turned down the long driveway. Before you go accusing me of trespassing, let me continue. I turned again onto a small strip of grass between the stone wall and fences. This property is home to my favorite animal in all the world - Daisy the Haflinger pony.

I leaned on the fence watching the twelve-year-old mare ripping up bits of soggy grass from the muddy earth. I stuck my hand through the fence.

"Daisy!" I called, clicking my tongue. She lifted her head with a jerk, ears pricked forward. I called to her again. She swiveled one ear back as if checking something, then started toward me. From frontwards, I could see her round belly sticking out on the sides. I smiled and shook my head. She wasn't that fat. Besides, I'd only known her as 'plump Daisy', so it'd be strange to see her thinner. This was her normal weight to me, and I bet I'm the only one who really loves her as is - just slightly-over-weight.

My smile faded as another shape began meandering its way toward me. It was Riley - the big black quarter horse. He and Daisy had been in the same pasture since the owners moved onto my road, and Riley had always been the bully.

I rolled my eyes. I know he wants attention, but I also know that he has a bad habit of nipping my hands when I try touching him. It's never a friendly nip either.

I've grown more and more wary about slipping through the fence when Riley is near by. He chases me, knowing I'm vulnerable. I must appear like such a skittish filly to him - just another creature he can boss.

As Riley came up behind Daisy, he stretched out his neck toward her. Daisy's ears flattened and she trotted away from him - and me. And Riley continued on his way to me. I frowned at him and marched away. No way was I giving him the time of day. I peered back over my shoulder and saw him watching me leave. I almost felt bad. But then, why does he have to be so mean? His bad habits seem to get worse with the lack of attention he gets. The owner is too busy to spend much time with him. Just three years ago, I wasn't afraid of him at all. Things have changed. I feel separated from Daisy. I can never get very close to her before Riley chases her away.

But maybe it isn't Riley's fault. He has nothing to do all day. No exercise, no attention... If I could just train him, make him work off some of that energy, maybe he would respect me more. But he's the owner's personal horse. They wouldn't let me do anything with him. On the other hand, Daisy's just a paddock pal for Riley...a pet, really. Poor Daisy.

~ This is a non-fiction story ~