LITMIR.BIZ

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lot but there’s no way I was game enough to ride him. He spooked every time he heard a strange noise.

      He filled out quite a bit though and was starting to transform from an ugly duckling into a nice looking thoroughbred, if I do say so myself!

      Mum and dad were pretty decent about the whole thing, I mean…everyone makes mistakes. They even offered to buy me another horse but that would mean selling Solo and flighty though he may be, I’d kind of grown attached to him. Even though I couldn’t ride him, I still hung out with him in the paddock. There was a huge gum tree in the top right hand corner near the dam and I would sit in the shade just watching him graze. Someone had carved ‘BEN’ into the trunk, and I often wondered who this was.

      I could at least tie him up and groom him, I guess he was used to all that from his…well, whatever it was he did before I got him.

      One wet Saturday afternoon, Jordan was watching football on TV while I was browsing through the latest issue of Horse Trader, pretending I had unlimited money to buy whatever took my fancy, when he glanced out the window during a commercial.

      “There’s a horse float going up next door’s driveway,” he said.

      “Whatever!” I replied rudely, not bothering to look up.

      He just shrugged and left me to my dreaming.

      I suddenly heard Solo whinny repeatedly…nothing unusual about that but a different, higher-pitched neigh quickly grabbed my attention!

      I couldn’t get to the window fast enough, fogging it in my haste to check out what I hoped were new neighbours. HORSEY neighbours at that!

      And yes, there they were! I watched from behind the curtains as two gorgeous ponies decked out in rugs, hoods and padded travel boots were unloaded. An older lady and what I presumed was her daughter removed everything except the ponies’ rugs and led them towards the small stable area. The ponies and Solo were exchanging verbal greetings (or maybe insults, who knew with horses?) I couldn’t see much through the raindrops and fog on the window, so ran to get dad’s binoculars.

      “What’s the hurry, nosey?” Jordan asked, without taking his eyes off the TV.

      I quickly checked the scores and his team were losing. HA!

      “Nothing, I just want to get a closer look is all,” I replied.

      I focused the binoculars. The ponies had their heads over the stable doors while our new neighbours made feeds and filled water buckets. The younger one had longish brown hair in a ponytail and was wearing jeans and an awesome jacket (I must find out where she got that!)

      I wondered if I could get away with strolling casually past their place and hope they noticed me. Or maybe I could just do the neighbourly thing and march over to introduce myself?

      Meantime Solo stood at his paddock fence neighing forlornly and pawing the ground, his eyes glued to the newcomers.

      To heck with it, I’m going over NOW!

      Pulling on my oilskin and gumboots (yes, I know…not the nicest of outfits to be greeting people in but it was starting to rain really heavily by now) I walked/slid next door.

      My heart was thumping as I went down their driveway, I think more from nerves than exertion.

      “Hello!” I called out to the girl, who had emerged from a shed with two hay bags.

      “Hi,” she replied. “Great weather, huh?”

      “Well we need the rain I guess. I’m Sarah, I live next door.”

      “I’m Tori and as you can see, we’re just moving in here.”

      We stood there checking each other out (it’s a girl thing).

      Her brown hair wasn’t as long as mine and had these cool gold glints through it. She had the most peachy complexion I’d ever seen, and huge brown eyes. She was about the same height as me and her jacket looked even nicer up close. She was wearing some kind of embroidered polo shirt beneath it.

      I was so busy registering all this, I jumped when the older lady approached from behind. She was tall with wavy brown hair.

      “Hello,” she said. “Can I help you?”

      “Actually I’m the welcoming committee,” I said, laughing. “I live next door and have a horse too. I was dying to see your ponies.”

      Her eyes lit up. “That’s great!” she said. “I was hoping Tori would be able to make some friends here.

      “My name is Jane…Jane Livingstone.”

      We shook hands.

      “I’m Sarah Ryder and I live just over there,” I said, pointing to our house.

      “Ryder, hey?” she replied with a smile.

      I rolled my eyes… “R-Y-D-E-R,” I spelled. “I know, corny surname for a horse-lover!”

      “No, I love it,” Tori exclaimed. “Why couldn’t we be ‘Ryders’ mum?”

      “You need to ask your dad that question,” Mrs Livingstone said.

      “My husband, Paul will be along soon,” she told me. “He’s bringing our dogs and cats.”

      Before I could ask any more questions, one of the ponies began banging on the stable door.

      “Oops, better get going!” Tori said. “Come and meet the gang.”

      Huh…try and stop me!

      Tori opened the door and I was confronted by one of the most gorgeous equines ever to walk this earth. He or she (I couldn’t tell yet) was grey with a hint of dappling, and had a short, well-pulled mane. I could tell instantly it was a quality show horse.

      “This is Zed,” Tori told me. “He goes by the show name of Penvale Acrobat. We call him Zed as he was the last foal from our Stud’s foundation mare; we lost her to colic just after he was born so we had to hand-raise him.”

      I stroked Zed’s spotless, soft neck and he whuffled my hands looking for treats.

      “We’ve stopped breeding ponies now and are concentrating on showing. He made the large pony final at the last Horse of the Year show.”

      “I was there!” I exclaimed. “But they were all so beautiful I didn’t really notice you.”

      Duh…that didn’t sound very tactful! But to my relief, Tori knew exactly what I meant.

      “I know, competition is so strong isn’t it? Zed’s only seven years old and I’m sure his time will come!”

      “You said something about a stud?” I asked her.

      “Sure, we used to breed Australian Ponies under the name of Penvale Stud and lived up near the NSW border. Dad’s an IT specialist and just got transferred to work in Melbourne, so we moved here.”

      Tori hung up Zed’s hay bag and walked to the next stable, where an equally dazzling pony was eyeing us over the door. He was a bay with a huge star and three white socks.

      “And this is Colby,” Tory said, laughing as the pony grabbed the zip tag on her jacket and tugged it up and down.

      “He does that all the time, he’s a real dag.”

      I stroked Colby’s forehead and he checked me over with kind, wise eyes.

      “His show name is Penvale I’m A Star, and he is too. He’s mine. You should have a ride some day!”

      I gulped. There’s no WAY I would be good enough to ride these ponies. And I just had a horrible thought…please don’t let them ask about Solo!

      “So you mentioned you had a horse, Sarah?” Mrs Livingstone asked. Did she just read my mind?

      “Well, it’s a long story. I do have one but……..”

      Solo

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