Racing Spirit

• Julia Askeland,
• Short Story
• 2008

I opened my eyes for the very first time to see a chubby faced man looking down at me; his soft dark blue eyes gazed at me with a kind smile on his face. He started rubbing me down with a soft white cloth, he rubbed gently down my neck and down along my slender legs. It was a lovely feeling. Then he stood up and walked out of the stable. Looking around the stable, I saw three other horses, one was pure white and the second was shiny black. The third horse I saw was my Mother; she was a beautiful chestnut, just like me. My mothers name was Faith and she had raised five healthy pure breed foals and I was the sixth.

The chubby farmer was very fond of my mother; he used to call me Brownie because I had a shinny brown coat and sparkling brown eyes. I soon learnt that the farmers name was Joe and his wife Mary-Jane, who fed the horses and gave them treats from the orchard, which held a variety of juicy, sweet fruit. My favorite was the juicy peaches. I loved sucking on the pips that held the flavour for hours, that sweet, mouth watering taste.

As I am now three and a half, Joe had to start looking for a good home for me. Mother had told me something about being broken in and being sold at four years. One day as I was galloping around the field with my mother, I saw Joe walking towards the paddock with a seat like thing, a muzzle looking object and a long strip of leather. He swung open the little old wooden gate; it almost fell to pieces, as Joe was a strong man. He walked up to me and rubbed gently down my nose, I could feel his rough hand. He spoke in a soft gentle kind voice and slowly beckoned me out the paddock and into another. Then he carefully put something into my mouth, which I did not like it at first. He also put something on my back. He held onto the leather strap and made me trot around the paddock.

As I am now four and have been broken in Joe sold me to a racing man. I was sad to leave mother and the farm but a new life was waiting.
My new stable was airy and had an inviting smell of hay. There was another horse there called Ginger, she was also a chestnut, and we became best friends. My new owner, John started training me after a week. I worked hard and tried my best. Two years later I found myself in the racing box.
I heard the gun, my gate opened, I ran, I felt the wind in my face, my mane flowing behind me. I ran with all my spirit and I soon found myself at the finish. My master was overjoyed. From then on I was a famous race horse.