Page 16 of Chasing Sunsets

“Sadie.”

“Good to meet you.” He led her to a tack room filled with riding equipment. A woman official trailed them. Although Sadie had never ridden a horse, she knew a little about them by watching The Kentucky Derby, The Belmont Stakes, and The Preakness races once a year.

Ned pointed to the leather horse halters and lead lines on the wall. “Pick one. We need to walk Horatio into the paddock out back before we muck his stall and set out fresh hay.”

She snatched a black set off the wall and followed Ned.

“The Medieval Times Dinner Tournament started in Spain and then came to the United States,” he said.

Knowing she might be asked to answer questions about different challenges at some point, she listened intently.

“Chapel Creek Ranch has the largest PRE breeding facility in the US.”

“PRE?” she asked.

“Pure Raza Espanola. It means of Pure Spanish Descent. Most horses in the show are Andalusians, like the one we will be taking care of today.” He stopped at a stall with a beautiful white horse. The inside was spacious with hay on the dirt floor and a trough for food and one for water on the wall. “Andalusians are known as the horse of royalty. They’re elegant, highly intelligent, and easy to train. We also have Friesians, Thoroughbreds, and Quarter Horses.”

Ned opened the half-door. He made a motion with his arm. “Good morning, Horatio. Let me introduce you to Sadie.”

The animal stretched his front legs out before him and lowered his head in a bow. He actually bowed!

“Sadie, I’m sure you know this, but never walk behind a horse.”

“Right.” She wasn’t scared, more like timid. She’d never been this close to a horse—not to mention such a sizable one.

“If you’ll grab the stool by the door to stand on, I’ll show you how to get the halter on him. He’s a stallion, used for breeding now.” Ned rubbed the horse’s neck.

She picked up the stool and crossed the stall. After setting it down, she lifted her hand and rubbed his neck as Ned was doing. “Hi, boy.”

The steed stilled, perhaps sensing her hesitation.

“You’re a beautiful white horse.”

“He’s technically a gray,” Ned explained. “The skin underneath his hair is gray, not pink. That distinguishes him from a white.”

“Fascinating.”

“Horatio performed for twelve years. His specialty was dressage.”

She’d watched dressage, where horses appeared to be dancing, on the Olympics. She never understood why they didn’t all get the same score. To her, it’d seemed like they’d done identical things.

“He’s a docile fellow. Aren’t you?” Ned motioned with his hand in a different gesture.

Horatio bobbed his head in agreement.

Sadie smiled. Hours ago, she’d believed smiling beyond her.

Once they got Horatio outside, Ned meticulously coached her on what to do while she mucked the stall. Her official approved on her first check. Then they inspected the animal for injuries—none to report, thankfully. Her last duty, to the stallion’s delight, was to give him a shower. His long flowing mane was difficult to wash, and he shook the water off of his body often. She would swear he’d done it to tease her.

By the end she was laughing and completely drenched, having spent the most delightful afternoon being charmed by a horse.

“Be the attitude you want to be around.” ~ Tim DeTellis

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