LITMIR.BIZ

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in a led event but we decided I’d had enough excitement for one day so we unplaited him, packed up and headed home. Besides, Tori needed to rest and recover.

      Once back at the stables, I helped Mrs Livingstone feed Zed and Colby while Tori disappeared inside.

      Finally it was time to go home.

      “Thank you so much for letting me ride Zed,” I told her. “And for having faith I could do it.”

      “My pleasure,” she replied with a smile. “You did a great job, tell your mum I’m really proud of you. Oh, I’ll email those photos through after tea.”

      It was almost surreal going back to my mundane life…although Jordan seemed impressed when I showed him the ribbon.

      I strolled out to visit Solo and Annie after dinner. Solo actually looked up and nickered when he saw me (okay, so he knew I always good for treats!) and they both wandered over to munch the apples I’d brought.

      I was suddenly exhausted…the riding, the roller coaster of emotions…what an amazing day! It confirmed that I really, really want to pursue a show career, hopefully with Solo. One day he and I would be winning our own ribbons…….

      Mystery horse

      The weeks following the show seemed flat and I kept glancing at the white satin ribbon to remind myself it all really did happen! And as for school…blah, it was so hard to concentrate. I doodled endless ponies on my schoolbooks and kept getting into trouble for not paying attention in class. Homework was something to be endured. Mum nagged me keep on top of it but how could I when there was so much fun horsey stuff happening?

      Mrs Livingstone treated Solo’s ringworm by washing him with anti-fungal solution a few times, and she made me scrub all my grooming tools with the same stuff.

      The horse dentist confirmed Solo was indeed around 10 years old. He also said Solo’s teeth were in terrible shape with sharp edges, then proceeded to rasp them, much to Jordan’s amazement (who then made a dill of himself by asking if Solo also needed any fillings…go figure).

      Mrs Livingstone also had an equine chiropractor examine Solo, and he found several sore spots along Solo’s back, made some adjustments and said he’d be fine to ride after a couple of weeks’ rest. Poor Solo copped the full makeover as he was also wormed and had his feet done. This used up every bit of money I had saved but luckily my dad had just produced a single for singer Zac Adams. It was racing up the music charts, so he chipped in.

      Solo started to bloom…he fattened up and his coat developed a gorgeous coppery glow. Even I could start to see he had potential as a show horse and Jordan stopped referring to him as ‘that nag’.

      I spent every spare second I could with him…gooming, bonding, scratching his itches (it always cracks me up that when you scratch them a horse’s lips go all rubbery!) He even started turning his head showing where me wanted me to scratch and of course, I obliged. My fingernails were always disgusting but I had bona fide ‘horse hands’ now.

      The day finally came when Mrs Livingstone said we could start working Solo. While I was busting to ride my horse, I understood he needed someone with way more experience. Besides, they were being more than generous by letting me ride Colby and with Tori offering instruction, I was learning a lot.

      The Livingstones had constructed a round yard using old car tyres…it was ingenious really, and perfect for free-working horses. Mrs Livingstone left Solo’s headstall on and using a lunge whip, sent him away from her to work on a circle. I noticed she was wearing a safety helmet and proper riding boots, I guess she wasn’t taking any chances! Tori and I hovered around the outside of the yard, curious to see what would happen. Nothing did. Solo trotted obediently around as though he had been doing it all his life.

      “CAANNTTER!” trilled Mrs Livingstone. And he did…just like that!

      “I reckon Solo has done this before,” Mrs Livingstone called out, without taking her eyes off him. I had to admit, he did look blasé about this lunging stuff…he was cantering on the right leg, nice and balanced.

      “…and wwooaahh,” Mrs Livingstone said, using a low, drawn-out tone.

      Solo obeyed instantly, then turned to face her, puffing from the unaccustomed exertion.

      “Goodness!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but it wasn’t that!”

      She worked him on the other rein for a while, then called him to halt again, rubbed his neck and fed him carrots. He’d broken into a light sweat by now.

      “Good boy!” she exclaimed, clipping the lead rope onto the headstall as Solo dribbled chewed carrot over her boots. She gazed thoughtfully at him.

      “Do you know, I think someone has put a lot of work into this horse,” she commented.

      So why had Solo ended up at a stock market and in the hands of Jim McCormick? I had a horrible thought…what if the doggers had bought him?!

      “Oh well,” continued Mrs Livingstone. “Nothing like a mystery horse! We’ll just have to figure out how much he really knows.”

      How exciting!

      After hosing Solo down and leaving him munching hay in one of the stables, we went inside for a cool drink.

      Now I have to pause here and explain some stuff about the Livingstones. Don’t get me wrong…they are the nicest people you could ever hope to meet, but their house! My goodness, where do I start? It’s…umm…a little messy. Okay, a LOT messy. I mean, they only moved in a few months ago but the place looks like a bomb’s hit it! There is stuff everywhere…saddles resting on armchairs; bridles on door handles. I always empty and re-stack their dishwasher when I’m visiting, but no-one really notices. I like a cup of Milo as much as the next person but I do prefer it without dog and cat hair floating on top.

      Oh, the dogs…they have three. A Jack Russell, a whippet and a three-legged bitza. Then there’s the cats. I don’t know exactly how many as there are house cats and stable cats, which they feed on the kitchen bench so the dogs don’t get it. Blerk.

      They’re all gorgeous animals but they shed like crazy and it mixes with horse hair brought in from the stables. I once saw Mrs Livingstone pull some wet saddle blankets out of the SAME machine as the one they use to wash their clothes!

      If you could see how neat and tidy their stables were you wouldn’t believe me.

      Anyway, as I was saying…we went inside for a drink (rinsing my cup first) and got to talking.

      “I wonder if Solo’s ever been registered with Equestrian Australia,” Mrs Livingstone said. “Although I guess he would have had a different name.”

      I was flicking through the latest copy of Horse Trader and only half-listening.

      “I might do some detective work and see what I can find out.”

      Tori was looking sideways at my magazine.

      “It’s really weird,” she said. “I mean, to go from a horse that someone obviously loved into the hands of a dodgy dealer. If only Solo could talk!”

      Then Mrs Livingstone had a light-bulb moment.

      “Sarah, I’ve got a pile of old Horse Traders…you’re welcome to go through them on the off-chance Solo was once advertised in there.”

      I looked at her dubiously. Was she crazy? Horse Trader might be the ‘bible’ of the horse world but each issue is about as thick as one too. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack!

      “Umm, I guess,” I replied.

      “How about I take a pile magazines at a time,” I offered, thinking I could accidentally-on-purpose forget about getting more.

      And so it was I found myself staggering home with an armload of magazines, which I promptly dumped on my bedroom floor. Solo was staying put so Mrs

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