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Writer Robynn Gabel's Musings
Category:
Pets/Pet Care
Publisher: Richter Indy Publishing
ISBN-10: 1484104277
Type: Non-Fiction
Pages: 162
Copyright: April 7, 2013
ISBN-13: 9781484104279
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Horse-crazy city girl finally gets the horse of her dreams.
As I child, I dreamed of someday riding a spirited Arabian. I had no idea tha a dependable Missouri Fox Trotter (nicknamed Elvis) had other plans.
After the span of fourteen years, Jake's Elvis J would redefine what I thought what it took to become a horseman. Through many humorous trials and errors, we learned together.
From home life, to trail, to training in the arena and finally performing in the show ring, Elvis exhibited the indomitable, adapatable spirit of his breed. During the journey he touched the hearts of many others, developing the collection of stories that are shared in "The Heart of Elvis."
Excerpt
Chapter One – In the Beginning
“You want to do what?” I stared at my husband over my cup of coffee.
“Well, we don’t have much to do today. I thought we could go look at that horse you were talking about last week,” Darrell said, smiling like it was the best idea ever.
Taking a slow sip, I wondered who had actually received the concussion--him or me. I’d just gotten out of the hospital from having the first horse I’d ever owned almost kill me, and looking at another horse was the last thing on my mind.
Two hours later, there I was in dust-filled air heavy with the musty-acrid odor of horses. Tony, the owner of the ugliest horse I’d ever seen, had just finished riding him bareback. He ducked under the horse’s neck, petting him all over to prove the little equine was “bomb proof.” I decided that Tony was definitely in on my husband’s plot, but I didn’t want to look at the chunky gelding. Compared to my sleek, sorrel mare, he was broad chested, knobby kneed and an odd combination of colors. As far as I was concerned, he was like any other horse with the standard issue of four legs, head, mane and tail.
“Now, the reason I’m selling him is he can be slow. He’s the horse I let people ride when they come to visit, and he’s only five. He would be perfect for you--nice and easy. I have to tell you: he doesn’t back up, and can be pretty heavy on the bit. He’s not ever going to be a show horse because he can’t fox-trot. He likes the pace too much. The only thing I don’t like about him is he can be stubborn. I’ve had to ride him with spurs sometimes to get him going. But unlike that ornery mare you got, he’s just a good ole boy,” Tony announced with pride.
He left me with his wife in the corral while he showed Darrell his other horses. I headed for the gate, trying to figure out how to politely tell his wife I wasn’t interested. I heard the soft plop of the horse’s hooves as he walked up behind me. His breath fanned my neck, and I froze, waiting for a bite or a shove, as my mare was prone to do. Instead, I felt him gently drop his head over my shoulder and pull me back against his chest in a semblance of a horse hug. He snuffled at my pockets, looking for goodies.
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