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rattling around my brain.

      After a few weeks, Mrs Livingstone decided to try riding Solo. Again she was kitted up with a helmet and had also added a back protector and gloves. She led him into the round yard and mounted. Aside from walking a few paces and swishing his tail, Solo wasn’t bothered. At first she left his mouth alone and walked and trotted sedately around the yard. Then she gradually shortened the reins and Solo responded by arching his neck, rounding his outline and bringing his hocks beneath him. He looked just like a show horse! Tori and I gasped.

      “Look how collected he is!” Tori exclaimed. I was gawping wide-eyed, mouth open. Could the ugly duckling I had so recklessly bought have turned into this beautiful swan? MY swan?

      Confident Solo wasn’t going to do anything terrible, Mrs Livingstone rode him into the arena and proceeded to put him through his paces. She did all kinds of amazing things, such as a stunning extended trot, simple change of canter leads, a rein back…and Solo did it all. He still wasn’t very fit though so she kept the session short, finishing on a loose rein. I was struck dumb.

      “Wow,” gushed Mrs Livingstone. “Just…wow! I haven’t ridden like that in years. The ponies, sure, but this is an educated horse who might have been used for show or even dressage. Who knows?” she finished, stroking Solo’s neck.

      I marvelled at my luck finding Solo, a ‘diamond in the rough’. But just how had he fallen so low?

      That night I started flicking through the pile of Horse Traders I had so reluctantly lugged home. As I suspected, there were just too many pages to wade through so I didn’t hold much hope of finding Solo. It was SO frustrating!

      Meantime, I continued going to shows with the Livingstones, which was fun. I tried to make myself useful as much as possible and even got pretty good at applying makeup on the ponies. I held them, fetched water, stood ringside clutching towels and brushes, provided a one-person cheer squad and took lots of photos when I got a chance.

      Eventually the show season wound up for the year and it was time to concentrate on Solo. Mrs Livingstone gave me a couple of lessons about how to tack up properly. I was using an old work saddle of hers since I didn’t have one of my own yet.

      “It’s important to put the saddle on over slightly over the withers and shoulders and slide it into the hollow of the back,” she told me.

      “This helps keep the hair nice and flat. If a horse is in any way uncomfortable or in pain, he will play up.

      “Now…do the girth up gently, a few holes at a time, running your fingers beneath it to make sure the hair there is also flat. Oh, and make sure the saddle blanket is pulled up away from the withers and isn’t bunched up.”

      I was absorbing all this like a sponge…who knew saddling a horse could be so technical? It all made perfect sense the way she explained it.

      I should explain here that Solo is what’s known as ‘girthy’, meaning he doesn’t like it being done up and will flatten his ears and nip whoever has the misfortune to be standing close by. Or if no one is around, he will try to nip my butt! Mrs Livingstone switched to using a soft neoprene girth on him and told me to make sure it was always kept spotlessly clean.

      I learned how to put the bridle on gently so the bit didn’t bang Solo’s teeth, and also how to make sure everything fitted properly.

      Finally the day arrived when Mrs Livingstone uttered the words I’d been waiting to hear.

      “Want to try riding your horse Sarah?”

      Oh. My. Goodness.

      “Really?” (I think I may have squeaked that a little).

      “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Mrs Livingstone reassured me.

      I was nervous but focused on saddling Solo up like I’d been taught. I asked Mrs Livingstone to check everything before I even thought about getting on. For that matter…would I be able to get on? He seemed so tall after the ponies. I’d used a rusty feed bin to mount at the dealer’s.

      I needn’t have worried…with Tori holding Solo’s head (he had a habit of walking forwards when anyone tried to mount), Mrs Livingstone legged me up. And there I finally was…only my mouth was dry and my legs felt like jelly.

      Mrs Livingstone led Solo for a few minutes until I gathered my wits, and my anxiety was soon replaced by euphoria. Everything seemed to be coming together at long last.

      “Just leave his mouth alone as much as possible,” Mrs Livingstone told me. I kept the lightest of contact, gliding my hands forwards and backwards as his head moved, just as Tori had taught me. He felt so high and springy! I hadn’t realised how much I’d become accustomed to Colby’s shorter strides.

      I walked Solo in a circle around Mrs Livingstone.

      “Sit up…you’re slouching a little…that’s better. Keep your hands soft, slightly rounded at the wrists. Good!”

      Walking was easy and I was relishing the view of Solo’s gleaming chestnut neck and mane stretching before me,.

      “TROT!” Mrs Livingstone called. Gathering up the reins, I pushed with my seat while squeezing my legs and off we went. I sat a few strides before rising on the outside diagonal.

      “Great work Sarah!” called Mrs Livingstone.

      Gosh he was bouncy! He felt totally different to the neglected, drugged horse I’d ridden at the dealer’s all those months ago.

      “Push him on….” She said, clicking her tongue at Solo, who by now had twigged I was a novice rider and decided he could get away with slacking off. He coughed, much to my alarm. I hope he wasn’t coming down with something!

      “Gently take up contact, that’s good, and push with your legs. Sit softly in the saddle at the rising trot…you’re not a sack of spuds! That’s better…..”

      I was working really hard but enjoying every moment of it. We changed rein a few times and tried a brief canter.

      “Swing your seat in rhythm to his stride Sarah…yes…sit up, you’re slouching again. Good riding takes effort!”

      She wasn’t wrong! I was soon puffed and brought Solo back to a walk.

      “That was really good Sarah,” she told me. “How did it feel?”

      “AWESOME!” I exclaimed, leaning forward and flinging my arms around Solo’s neck. No other word would have done really.

      Mum was rapt, she’d been coming to watch us working with Solo and was impressed with how he was looking.

      “I would never have believed it was the same horse,” she commented, shaking her head in wonder. She and Mrs Livingstone (or Jane as she calls her of course!) had really hit it off. Mum even got over her initial shock regarding the state of their house–to which the Livingstones seemed to be completely oblivious–to have coffee there.

      Meantime, I continued going through back issues Horse Trader whenever I had a chance. If nothing else, I was looking at beautiful horses which is always nice.

      My education continues

      I rode Solo regularly after that and Mrs Livingstone also lunged me on Colby, without reins or stirrups, which she said would develop my balance. My legs sure ached after each session! I tried to be helpful in return by mucking out, feeding up, rugging and unrugging, cleaning the kitchen……

      All was well with my world. Mum had lots of work and dad was recording an album with Zac. Jordon was being…well, Jordan (and just let me remind whoever is reading this to NEVER leave your Facebook page logged in and unattended. And that’s all I have to say about that).

      Around mid-June, I jogged across to the Livingstone’s, greeted the dogs and wandered into the kitchen. It was empty but I could hear someone in the shower. I automatically started unloading the dishwasher.

      “Annndd

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