Creative Nonfiction, Creative Writing, horses

Creative Nonfiction: The First Fall

The first fall is an inevitable milestone for any serious rider. It’s something you try not to think about but you always know it is going to happen. It has to happen.

My first fall was off of a flea bitten gray horse named Cotton. Well, technically he was a pony since he fell just under 14.2 hands, but he was taller than me which made him a horse in my book. Now cute “little” Cotton had a secret habit: He would hold in all the air he could when people put his saddle on so it wouldn’t be as tight on his stomach.

Clever not-quite-a-horse-horse.

I didn’t notice Cotton’s scheme until it was too late to do anything about it.

We had made it through the pleasant group trail ride and had managed to make it back to the outdoor ring where we were supposed to cool down before calling it a day. Cotton and I were happily trotting to the far end of the ring to claim our space on the track without a care in the world.

But we never made it.

Read the rest on my horse blog, Beyond the Saddle and share the story of your first fall below!
Creative Nonfiction, horses

Creative Nonfiction: Close the barn door!

There was a lot I was willing to overlook when it came to Maddie, the new ex-racehorse at the barn that I would be helping to train. She was a chestnut Quarter horse/ Thoroughbred mix who needed someone to help her adapt to her new life as a lesson horse, and I was thrilled to get back into the realm of training that I had been somewhat sidetracked from when we switched lesson barns.

I was so excited for this change of pace, that I was willing to overlook the fact that she had bit my instructor in the stall one time (and the fact that my instructor felt that it was okay to hide that information from me), I forgave Maddie for the times her flight instincts kicked in on a trail ride for no apparent reason as she took off at a gallop up a hill while I did everything I could to stay in the saddle (luckily I did not fall), and I pretended to be okay after she took off again on that same trail ride, racing straight for the trees. I was more than willing to overlook all of it. After all, it was part of her training process and I was always up for a challenge. However, there are just some things your mother will not let you overlook.

Close the Barn Door!

My mom didn’t always go to our lessons. Usually our dad took us as he would go to work earlier in the morning (and, therefore get off work earlier) and he didn’t mind being around horses the way my mother did (to this day she remains “not a horse person” …or dog person for that matter, but that’s a story for a different time). So already with my mother tucked into the corner of the ring (in reflection, I don’t know why my instructor thought that this was a good spot for a chair or for my mother), this day was already set up to be special.

That day there were five of us in the ring on horses, plus my instructor who stood in the middle of the ring and my mother seated in the corner with her back against the fence (whyyyy?). In the center of the ring, a small jump had been set up on the diagonal. The five of us formed a line in the corner next to my mother’s corner and took turns heading to the jump, sailing over it, and returning to the line to wait our next task. I was at the end of the line per my instructor’s request. While I had jumped Maddie before, she was still somewhat green when it came to jumping since, you know, racehorses don’t do much jumping.

When it was our turn, we headed towards the jump. I was calm and collected knowing we had done a similar jump before and we hadn’t really had problems in the ring. Sure, she had problems out on the trail and with my instructor in the stall, but in the ring we had been pretty solid. Maddie was always one to keep you on your toes though, and that day was not any different.

Read the rest on my other blog Beyond the Saddle!

horse barn

Creative Nonfiction, horses

Creative Nonfiction: First Impressions

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said to myself, staring at the huge horse in the stall in front of me. Why would I get paired with this horse? This horse was made for giants. Sure, I was tall for a girl but I definitely wasn’t tall enough for this horse. I stared at the big, gray horse against the far wall of the stall. I could hear the clap of his teeth as he crushed the grains in his mouth –an easy task. No way, no how. And Bandit? What kind of name is Bandit anyway? Does he steal things? I shook my head at him from the safety of the barn aisle.

The sound of other stall doors opening and closing died down as the rest of the campers entered their stalls and got to the task of meeting and grooming their horses. I remained where I was, grooming box in hand. It was just fifteen minutes ago that I was learning what all of these brushes were called, how to use them, and, even more importantly, how to interact around a horse. I knew not to go under a horse, but Bandit was tall enough that this looked like a viable option. That idea scared me. I shouldn’t be able to fit under a horse’s belly without playing a challenging game of limbo. I had also learned that if you had to pass behind a horse, you should pass as close to the horse’s back legs as possible so, if they were to kick, you would not get hurt as badly in the process. Something about that just wasn’t encouraging.

horseback riding

Bandit continued to stand there big and gray, eating his breakfast. I stood in the aisle blonde, small, and terrified wondering why my parents let my older sister, Lauren, talk them into this. I remained there, scared of all of the possibilities, until one of the counselors approached me. “What’s wrong?” She asked, peeking her head into Bandit’s stall.

I was never one to say I was afraid. I was the girl who would put on a brave face and just do it, but this was something different. “He’s just so big,” I said, continuing to stare at him.

“Yeah, he is,” the counselor nodded in agreement as she pulled her dark hair into a ponytail. “But he’s a gentle giant. Trust me. He’s literally the sweetest horse in here.”

I looked at her and back to Bandit. How was that possible?

Read the rest on my horsey blog, Beyond the Saddle! (Psssttt! Share your horse story with me here to have a chance at being featured on Beyond the Saddle)

Facing the Tide, Fiction, horses

Facing the Tide (Chapter One)

Chapter One

The beach that Lanie and I had ridden across when we were eight years old spread out in front of me. Streaks of pink, purple, and orange joined the rising sun while the salty waves lapped at the receding shoreline, dampening the sand in foamy groups. I could practically see the hoof prints of the ponies we had ridden those many years ago. We had met at our lesson barn, Longbarak Stables, that morning and our instructor told me that Lanie would be joining us today, adding that we were going to the beach because we could both use a break. I hadn’t seen her around before, not even at competitions, but Lanie turned out to be a talented rider. She had given me several pointers over the years, even when she was just that little girl with the big blue eyes and long black hair that never seemed to be brushed.

I stared out at the water wondering why things had to change. Why couldn’t we be those two little girls galloping along, covering ourselves in saltwater and seaweed? Up until about a week ago, it seemed like things really wouldn’t change: Lanie and I had been best friends since that first ride together and had only grown closer over the years. Yes, our interests changed from playing make-believe to obsessing over boys but I had always seen us as those two little girls on the beach who, at that moment, didn’t have a care in the world.

People say that caring about something real is part of growing up, but I never would have thought that this was what was in store for me. Had I known this was coming I would have found a way to be that little girl at the beach, with her newfound friend, forever. If Lanie knew this was going to happen, I’m sure she would have wanted that too.

I thought back to the events of the past week wondering how I had even made it this long. I was so excited on Sunday because Lanie was coming back from her grandmother’s house where she had been for two weeks. Those weeks were tough without her around but nothing compares to what I’ve gone through this week.

I had rushed over to her house when I saw her mother’s minivan pull onto our street that afternoon, knowing that she had been the one to go and get Lanie and her older brother, Garret, from the airport. I ran up to Lanie, engulfing her in a hug when she was only halfway out of the car. “I have so much to tell you!” Lanie squealed, returning my embrace. We grabbed her things and followed her family into the house, dropping her stuff in the living room. “I can’t sit still anymore! First the plane, and then the car…” I sympathized with her knowing that her flight had taken off at 6:30 this morning and that the ride back from the airport was a solid hour at least. “Let’s go riding!” Lanie didn’t wait for an answer before switching into her paddock boots and racing out to my truck. She knew me well enough to know that I would never turn down another chance to horseback ride just like I knew her well enough to know this was exactly what she would want to do when she got back, which is why I had changed into my riding boots and old jeans before coming over.

We had only been out in the field at Longbarak Stables for about thirty minutes when overcast clouds appeared in the distance, telling Lanie and I to go in. “Just one more try!” Lanie said, looping back around to try the jump again. She had been helping train one of the new horses before she had left for Maine and Lanie had wanted to see if any progress had been made, or that’s what she said she was doing. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was really more interested in ensuring that none of her progress with King had been undone while she was gone. King was Lanie’s favorite horse at the moment because he provided Lanie with a challenge, something she never could refuse.

I wasn’t as daring as Lanie; I never had any desire to train a horse –it seemed so scary. In fact, I usually stuck to riding well-trained ponies. I’m 5’2’’ so the smaller the pony the better control I have. Lanie wasn’t as vertically challenged as me, so she was always willing to ride the biggest horses in the barn. I remained convinced that if I could possibly walk under their belly without bending over, it wasn’t a good idea for me to ride them.

I watched as Lanie approached the small jump with King fighting to have his way. They were at the perfect angle, but he kept thrashing his head about. I saw Lanie’s lips move; she was probably trying to coax King to jump. King’s ears twitched back and he calmed down considerably. Maybe they would get it this time, I thought, as the clouds grew darker. The pair took off over the jump, leaping unnecessarily high, something that wasn’t uncommon with untrained horses. I smiled at Lanie’s success but I had smiled too soon; a bolt of lighting shot across the sky followed by a loud rumble of thunder. Everything happened so quickly: King spooked causing Lanie to fly right over his head and under his feet. I screamed but there was no reply. King just kept going, dragging Lanie, whose foot had gotten caught in the stirrup. Everything else was a blur. People rushed out of the barn, hearing my scream and the general commotion. Lanie’s foot got untangled and her lower half fell to the ground with a thud. She didn’t move.

I jumped off of my pony and raced over to Lanie’s side. “Lanie?”

There was no reply. Tears were streaming down my cheek. Someone shouted that the ambulance was on its way. I sat with her until they came while two people went and got the horses. I could barely breathe.

Lanie don’t leave me.” That was the last thing I said before I fainted, falling alongside my best friend just as the ambulance pulled up.

She’s going to be okay,” an unknown voice said from a place that sounded far away but, from the cold hand on my forehead, I knew it wasn’t that far at all. I struggled to open my eyes as the afternoon’s event came over me: Lanie’s return, going to Longbarak Stables, riding in the field, the thunderstorm, Lanie’s fall…

My eyes finally opened and I bolted up screaming Lanie’s name. The only reply I got was a hand on my shoulder keeping me on the ground. “Not too fast.” I now knew that this unfamiliar voice belonged to an EMT.

I looked around the field as best I could from my seat in the dirt, but I couldn’t find Lanie. “Lanie!” I cried out again just as my parents crouched down beside me. My mother’s usually obnoxiously white sneakers were coated with a film of dirt.

Mom?” She just shook her head, her eyes not daring to meet mine.

Dad?”

He took a deep breath, which the EMT took as her cue to leave. “I’m sorry, Becca; she didn’t make it.”

I shook my head profusely. How was that possible? She had just gotten back this afternoon. How could she not be here anymore? No, it just couldn’t be true. My best friend wouldn’t just leave me like that. She just wouldn’t. She wouldn’t leave me alone.

***

The sound of a seagull’s cry brought me back to the present. The sun was now up and morning joggers were beginning to take over the beach. I wiped away the tears that had formed in my eyes. It hurt to think about Lanie but it hurt even more not to. It was just one of the many things I had to grapple with now. I grabbed my worn flip-flops off of the sand next to me and walked back to my old pick up truck. I had to be strong today. I had to be strong for Lanie.

Want more? Facing the Tide is available NOW! Get your hands on an ebook or paperback version by going to http://kylefreelander.wix.com/author#!books/cnec

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Creative Writing, Fiction, horses, short short story

Fiction: Thud

I knew from the way her breathing was heavy and forceful that she wouldn’t make it if the ambulance didn’t get here soon. Every inhale was a loud wheeze and every exhale was a thud onto the cold dirt. “It’s going to be okay,” I said even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. I would have better luck talking to the horses across the field then I would communicating with her in this state. Then again, I didn’t want to talk to the horses. Or at least one of them. He had caused this. He had trampled her. He had tried to kill my best friend.

A tear made its way down my cheek and I could feel the winter air try and turn the trail it had made into ice. I wiped it away as quick as I could. I didn’t want her to see me cry, even if her eyes were closed. I wanted her to think it was all going to be okay. It all was going to be okay. It had to be. I couldn’t lose my best friend. The ambulance would get here any minute and everything would be better again. It was the waiting that was killing her, that was killing us both.

A scratchy moan came from her lips. It was like metal being scraped across the pavement, being dragged by a car the way her body had been dragged by a horse. It was the worst sound I had ever heard. “It’s going to be okay,” I repeated, trying to sound certain. She groaned again. I looked at the way her legs were turned the wrong way, how her chest appeared almost caved in, and listened to the way each breath sounded like it would be her last. She must be in so much pain. I just wanted to pull her into a hug and let her know we were going to get through this. We got through everything together, but I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t supposed to move her and I didn’t know that it was going to be okay. I didn’t know anything anymore, certainly not how to deal with death.

“Hey, remember that time we skipped class to see Twilight?” I asked in an attempt to distract her. Her body rose and fell in reply. “I was so afraid we would get caught and you told me to suck it up…that we only live once, that we had to make the best of these sorts of opportunities while we still could. Do you remember that?” I knew better than to expect a reply. Water formed in my eyes again and this time when the tears spilled down my cheeks, I just let them. She knew I wasn’t as strong as she was. She would understand that I was even more terrified than I had been when the school called my parents to tell them that I hadn’t been in class that day.

Her body rose and fell with such a thud that some dirt flew up around her. I stared at her through my tears, waiting to see some sign of life but she just lay there on the dirt. There was no more wheezing, no more rising and falling, no more anything. Now my tears were uncontrollable. I buried my face in the sleeve of her jacket and sobbed for what felt like hours but I knew must have only been a few moments. “Why did you have to leave me?” I asked, sitting up again. I shook her lifeless body, and demanded that she return at once –that she come back to life. I needed her but there was no way to bring her back. Her body fell to the ground one last time.

By: Kyle Freelander