New Strides || Canterwood Crest || Book 19

2 ↬ the slug stunt

Exactly 29 minutes later, Dad drove towards a familiar driveway, with our two-horse trailer in tow. Yes, I timed the drive. No, I did not regret it.

"Are you excited, honey?" Mom turned in her seat and smiled at me.

"Very!" I beamed. Our car meandered along the gravel path which led to the Safe Haven complex. The trees lining the driveway were coated in leaves of different colours, making the already gorgeous property picture-perfect for fall. Dad pulled into a parking spot, which was trailer-friendly, of course. Before he even turned off the transmission, I jumped out of the back seat. Safe Haven looked amazing. The spacious grass paddocks were manicured, and surrounded by newly painted black fences. It looked as if they had made improvements to the facility since I had last been here; I noticed a new wing of the stable, different footing on the outdoor track, and what looked like an indoor arena in the distance.

"Sasha! Long time no see!" I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from the picturesque surroundings to look at a familiar face.

"Lyssa!" I walked towards the petite brunette who had emerged from the stable. Last year, she had coordinated to Holiday Adopt-a-Thon event. We briefly hugged, and she warmly welcomed my parents.

"I'm very excited to have you here," she smiled at us. "Any horse you choose to adopt will be very lucky!"

The four of us walked, through the entrance of the stable, and were immediately enveloped by warmth and the sweet smell of hay. Horses of all colours and sizes poked their heads over the stall doors to see who had entered their surroundings.

"I noticed some changes when I was outside. Are those new?" I asked. Lyssa grinned.

"Yes. We had some very generous donations, thanks to your help at the Adopt-a-Thon, and were able to make many improvements!"

"That's great!" I exclaimed. I thought back to my experience with Mr. Orson at the Holiday Adopt-a-Thon. After telling me the story about his wife's tragic death, he left an incredible donation of one hundred thousand dollars. There was no doubt in my mind that his generosity made those improvements possible.

Lyssa produced a sheet of paper on a clip board from a nearby table. "Here," she explained, "is where I have made a list of the horses for you to try. We've run the options by your instructor, Mr. Connor, and he says that any of them are suitable for you, depending on how you like the rides."

I was thankful for Mr. Connor's support. There was no way I'd be here right now if it wasn't for him.

"Let's get started with Dunlop," Lyssa stated. My parents and I followed her down the main aisle towards a row of cross ties. In one of the tack-up stalls stood a light bay gelding with three socks and a crooked stripe along his face. He was relatively short for a thoroughbred (probably around 15.2 hands high), and of a stockier build. None the less, he was adorable.

"I had some volunteers tack him up for you, just to save time. If you'd like, you can untack him to see how you like his ground manners," Lyssa continued. "He's been with us for about six months, and he is a great guy. He's eight years old, and was raced up until he was six or seven, but as far as we know, he had little success."

I listened über carefully. I didn't want to risk missing any important information. I was so not getting distracted today!

"When he was around seven, he had a minor injury in his front left tendon. With time and special attention, it would heal fine, however, his owners clearly didn't want to have anything to do with it. We rescued him from a meat auction this past April."

My stomach lurched. The thought of anyone being able to send any horse to the certain, cruel, fate of a slaughter houses was sickening.

After bridling Dunlop, I fastened on my new Samshield helmet (thanks Mom and Dad!) and led him towards the brand new indoor arena. Lyssa suggested I ride there since a light rain had started outside (Score! I couldn't wait to see it!). Dunlop walked attentively at my side as we strode through a chute that lead to the arena. Lyssa and my parents trailed behind, deep in conversation about how another mount would benefit my riding career. Eventually, we reached the arena, which was beautiful! It was airy and spacious, but not excessively huge. It was absolutely perfect for Safe Haven!

I adjusted the stirrups on Dunlop's saddle, and slowly eased myself onto his back. He stood steadily as I shortened my reins and prepared to start riding.

"Just take your time and get a feel for him on the flat. Then, if you like him, you can try some jumping!" Lyssa called from the centre, where she stood with my parents. I silently willed my dad to put away his video camera, using ESP. Listening to Lyssa's instructions, I walked Dunlop a few laps around the arena. I later moved into a trot, then canter. After ten minutes of flatwork, I was ready to jump. Lyssa set some small verticals for me to try. Dunlop moved slowly off my leg into a steady canter, and I positioned him at the first jump. A few strides away, Dunlop began to suck back. I tightened my legs against his barrel, but he wasn't listening.

Come on, Dunlop! I thought. This. Is. Too. Slow! I nudged him with my heels in a desperate attempt to get him going forward; however, it was too late. Dunlop hobbled over the jump, taking all the black the rails down. Determined not to let him pull the slug-stunt over the next jumps, I pushed him into a slow gallop along the wide turn to the next jump. This way, it would be easier to maintain a steady jumping canter. As we approached the solid white poles, I clucked and pushed Dunlop forward. This time, he listened to my leg, and put some semi-decent effort into lifting his legs over the small jumps. The remaining three jumps went without a problem.

"What do you think?" asked Lyssa as I moseyed towards her. Mom and Dad looked at me, curious to hear how I liked him.

"He was really nice to flat, but..." I paused.

"But what?"

I sighed. "I just don't feel that he's athletic enough for the level that I'm working at." I felt bad saying anything negative about Dunlop, but I knew it was true. There was no reason to lead Lyssa and my parents to believe that he was a true possibility for me as a rider. "He's a great horse," I continued, "but I think that he's a better fit for lower levels."

Lyssa nodded. "Fair enough. And Sasha, thank you for telling me this. Feedback really helps."

I smiled. "No problem." I took my feet out of the stirrups and swung my leg over the saddle to dismount. "Who's next?"