These are the first three chapters of the book I am currently writing. I hope to get it published some day.
[align=center]Chapter 1[/align]
The beating of her heart totally washed away the beating hooves and the crowd’s applause. Amy Livingston gently asked her tall bay mare to halt and patted her neck, completely thrilled and excited. The nervousness and fear were gone, for good. She looked up, tears in her eyes and smiled, knowing that never again would an audience applaud so enthusiastically, in appreciation of what they had just witnessed. A miracle, no less. Her hard work had finally paid off.
It had been close to a year before, on a bright, clear day. Amy had loaded her beloved show jumper, Leap of Faith, into her trailer and begun to drive northeast, to the small show they were heading to. As they drove along the long, lonely freeway, a small sedan pulled into the lane, right behind Amy’s trailer. It was right on her tail and she couldn’t shake it off. Suddenly, a jolt rocked the truck and a crash was heard from behind. Then everything went black.
Amy awoke to the beeping of her heart monitor. A stinging pain rushed through her body as she tried to move. She lay her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to recall what happened. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she frantically pressed a button on the hospital bed. A nurse came rushing to her side. Amy tried to speak normally but all that came out were gasps and frantic words. “What…happened? My horse. Is she all right?�
The nurse patted her hand gently and said, “Relax, deary. You were in a car accident. You’ve been unconscious for two days. The horse is okay. You are too. The both of you are just badly cut and bruised. You have to stay here a little longer and then you can go home.�
Amy let out a sigh of relief. The next few days drifted by slowly, agonizingly stretching time, willing Amy to stay longer. The doctor came by and checked her over, giving her a clean bill of health, and letting her go home. She rose from her prison of a bed and walked out of the room, with only a little pain and soreness in her body. Amy’s sister, Michelle, parked in front of the hospital and opened the door for her sister, a broad smile on her cheery face. Amy hugged her close; glad to see her sister and best friend again. Then she got in Michelle’s car and sat quietly while they drove slowly toward Amy’s small house.
Once home, Amy was greeted by licks, wiggles and tail wagging from her Collie, Shadow. She gave the dog a hug and a kiss before looking around and smiling, glad to be home. She walked into her bedroom and ran her hand along the show jumping trophies and ribbons that were displayed on the wall across from her bed. Pictures of her and Faith were on very nearly every wall, desk, counter, and table in her home. Amy quickly changed into riding boots and breeches. She grabbed her car keys and walked out of the house, with Shadow close behind her. The two got in Amy’s car and began to drive to the barn.
A loud nicker of welcome sounded from the stall at the very end of the barn aisle. Amy began to walk more briskly and Shadow ran ahead of her, toward the sound. When she reached her destination, she unlocked the stall door and slid it open. A familiar face greeted her and Amy through her arms around her horse’s neck and let the tears fall. Faith seemed a little confused and pulled away from the embrace, moving her head and body as if trying to see Amy better. Amy reached out to Faith, trying to understand. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and whirled around to see who it was. The vet stood there and said, with a hint of sadness in his voice, “They didn’t tell you, did they? Faith was blinded in the accident.�
[align=center]Chapter 2[/align]
“No, it’s not possible. It can’t be true, can it?� Amy whispered miserably and sunk down in the straw. The vet nodded and slowly walked away, leaving Amy to her thoughts. She sobbed quietly, thinking about how nothing would ever be the same again. She would probably never be able to ride Faith again, let alone jump. Her mind flashed back to the night ten years ago, the night Faith was foaled. Amy had been there and fallen completely head over heels for the adorable filly. Faith had had a rocky start but she had made it, earning her show name, Leap of Faith, and become quite a promising jumper. Amy had been with her every step of the way, from birth to weaning and training to her first show. And now, all of their hard work and determination, their ambitions to be the best, were gone, all because of a seemingly harmless car accident.
Her horse’s soft snort brought Amy back to the present and set a stubborn look on her face. She rose softly and thought out loud, “We’re not going to let this stop us, Faith. We’re going to prevail, like we did before. Like when you were a sick and weakly foal, like when you wouldn’t let anyone tack you up or get on your back, like when you were afraid of the bigger jumps and the water jumps. You and I, we’re a team and we always got through the things life through at us. This is just another of those times, when everything and everyone is trying to bring us down. We will not back down! We will not give up! We will fight this!� Faith nickered and bobbed her head. She had always understood Amy; they were partners, after all.
With a sense of determination and destiny about her, Amy set to work getting Faith used to her new, sightless world. The mare knew where her haynet, feed bucket, automatic waterer were by memory; she had lived in the same stall since the day she was weaned. Amy removed Faith’s halter and lead rope from the bar on her stall door. She walked over to the mare, talking to her the entire time. Faith’s ears were pricked up, alert, as she listened to Amy. She backed up slightly when she felt the familiar leather on her muzzle but quickly relaxed when Amy encouraged her to be brave. Amy swiftly slipped the halter on and buckled in behind Faith’s ears. The mare tossed her head and stamped her hoof but calmed down and pricked her ears up, ready for whatever would come next.
Amy rested her left hand on Faith’s shoulder and held the lead rope tightly in her other hand. She began to walk forward, pulling slightly on the lead rope. Faith resisted the pulling and pulled back, throwing her head back and half-rearing. Amy waited for Faith to calm down before trying again. After a few tries, Amy finally got her horse to follow her out of the stall.
Everyday, the procedure was much the same. Amy simply slipped Faith’s halter on and led her out of the stall. The two would walk together for hours on end on the forest trails leading through the rolling hills, the same trails they used to trek through on rides. Soon, Amy began to cross-tie and gently try to groom her. At first Faith freaked, unsure of what to think as her owner attempted to curry her. Amy worked slowly, letting the mare have her space and give her time to cast away her fear. Once again, Amy’s reassurance and gentle guidance helped Faith restore her courage and learn to function in her new world. Now, Amy could not only halter and walk her horse, but groom her as well. Progress was undoubtfully being made and they were well on their way to success.
[align=center]Chapter 3[/align]
Progress. That was all, no real triumphs, no success. On the outside, Amy was calm and patient, guiding Faith along but inside, she was impatient, and desperately waiting it out, hoping a breakthrough would come soon. She was slowly becoming more and more frustrated, wondering why the mare was so afraid of each step in the process. She had been haltered and groomed hundreds of times before. Why was this any different?
Casting her doubts aside, Amy continued to work with her horse. One day she cross-tied Faith in the aisle and groomed her, as usual. But instead of going on their walk, Amy brought Faith’s tack out and set it on a saddle rack in the barn aisle. She picked up the soft, white saddle pad and gently placed it on Faith’s back. The mare tossed her head but remained still. Amy then did the same thing with her saddle. Faith half-reared but Amy managed to keep the saddle on her back. Once the mare was quiet again, Amy continued tacking up by first putting the girth on the first hole on both sides. Faith pawed the ground and snorted but stayed calm. Amy slowly did the girth up on both sides until it fit snugly around Faith’s barrel. Normally, the bridle would some next. However, Amy wanted Faith to get used to walking around with just the saddle on first.
This continued for a few days until Faith was completely calm while being tacked up. A week after the initial saddling, Amy repeated the same routine with her horse. This day was different however. On this day, Amy planned to bridle Faith and ride her for the first time in months. When it came to bridling, Faith took it all quite well. She willing took the bit in her mouth and allowed her owner to buckle the noseband and throatlatch. Amy felt butterflies in her stomach as she led Faith into the arena and over to the mounting block. She quietly pulled her stirrups down and put her reins over Faith’s head. She took a firm hold on the reins and climbed up the mounting block. Slowly, Amy stuck her left foot in the left stirrup and swung onto Faith’s back, quickly shoving her other foot in the right stirrup. Faith reared and Amy sat up, talking to the mare softly, trying to calm her down.
As soon as Faith returned her front hooves to the ground, and let them stay there for longer than a few seconds, Amy gave the mare a loose rein and just sat there, talking to her and petting her. Faith stopped prancing and pricked her ears up, positioning them toward Amy so she could listen better. Soon, Amy picked up her reins, squeezed Faith’s sides gently, and said, “Walk on, girl.� Faith hesitated for a minute and started walking. The two walked around the ring a few times before Amy decided to do some more work with her horse. They did some circles and figure eights as well as reversing directions and backing up. Amy dismounted that day with a radiant smile on her face and a sense of accomplishment in her heart.
Oh well. I’ll get it done some day.