Horse Wise (7 page)

“Our agenda for today is as follows,” Max began. “First, each of you will receive your official Pony Club pins. You are entitled to wear them as long as you are a member in good standing of Horse Wise.”

Stevie decided she intended to be a member in good standing for a very long time.

“Next, we will discuss the schedule for future meetings as well as ratings, and then we will play a learning game. This will be followed by a short trail ride and then the meeting will adjourn one half hour before scheduled to allow you all ample time for grooming and horse care. Remember, stable management and horse care are an important part of Horse Wise and will be required of all members.”

That was when all three of The Saddle Club girls looked at Veronica. She didn’t look back.

Max asked the sponsors to distribute the pins. Colonel Hanson was the first one to help. He took the pins from Max and began handing them out, walking behind the Pony Clubbers’ horses as he went. Everyone at the meeting, except Colonel Hanson, knew that whenever it is practical, it makes sense to walk in front of horses, rather than behind them. Horses like to know what is going on and can get skittish if somebody passes too close to them.

“Colonel,” Max said. “It’s better to walk in front of the horses than in back of them.”

“Oh,” the colonel said sheepishly, coming quickly to the front of the group.

“Can anybody tell the colonel the reason for this?” Max asked. Several hands went up. Max called on Stevie, who quickly explained it. She thought she’d done a pretty good job, but after she finished, she noticed that Carole was scowling a little bit. Stevie thought about it for a few seconds and realized that Carole probably wasn’t scowling at her. Maybe she was scowling because her father didn’t know such a simple thing about horses. Carole was usually so patient when people didn’t know things, but of course it was different when it was your own father. Stevie suspected that Colonel Hanson would never make that mistake again.

Once all the riders had their pins on, Max announced his schedule for the next few weeks. As long as the weather was good, they would alternate mounted meetings one Saturday and unmounted meetings the next. The following week, Judy, the vet, would talk to them about horse care, and at the meeting after that, the members would be tested and rated.

Stevie had been reading up on Pony Clubs. And when Phil Marston had called her the other night, she’d asked him about them since he already belonged. In fact, their clubs were in the same district and they’d be seeing each other at rallies. Stevie could hardly wait. In the meantime, though, she’d have to be “rated.” Each member would receive a rating according
to his own skill level. The ratings started at D-1 through 3, which was for beginners, then progressed to C-1 through 3, B, H-A, and A. Very few riders ever achieved H-A and A and only very good riders, with years of experience, got to B. Stevie hoped that one day she’d be able to be a C, but for now, she figured that she and Lisa were both D’s. Carole might make it to C. Stevie wondered what sort of rating they would come up with for Veronica. The important thing about the ratings, and about Pony Clubs in general, was that they weren’t just about riding. Horse care was just as important. Stevie grinned. Veronica wouldn’t be able to find a stableboy to take the horsecare section of the test for her!

“All right, now, our first activity will be a game called Giant Steps.”

Max described the rules. Each rider would be asked a question about horses. If the rider answered correctly, his or her horse could take one step toward a line that Max had Colonel Hanson draw in the dirt. If the rider made a mistake, the horse would have to take a step backward toward another line. Whoever crossed the front line first, won. Whoever crossed the back line was out.

Max began shooting out questions. How many beats were in a walk? Trot? Canter?

Stevie thought they were very easy questions until she noticed that the riders he was giving them to were beginners. They weren’t easy questions for them.

“Stevie, name the parts of a horse’s neck.”

Stevie made a face. Veronica diAngelo laughed. That was the inspiration Stevie needed.

“Poll, crest, and withers,” she answered. She was awarded one giant step.

Carole named ten grooming aids, and Lisa told him five registered breeds of horses.

“Veronica, name three parts of the horse’s foot.”

Veronica shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. Stevie suddenly got the feeling she was going to like this a lot.

“Well, there’s the hoof—”

“One step backward,” Max announced. “Anybody else?”

Stevie raised her hand. Max called on her. “Wall, sole, and frog,” she said. She stepped forward.

“Veronica, I told you to step backward,” Max said.

Veronica glared at him. “Isn’t it time to stop this game now and go for a trail ride?” she said.

“Not yet.” That closed the subject for everybody except Veronica, who was never one to enjoy public humiliation.

Garnet started acting up a little, as if she didn’t want to step backward any more than Veronica did. Stepping backward was an easy command and something every horse learned early in training. The command for it was to simply pull straight back on the reins—not hard, just steadily. Stevie watched closely.
Garnet was doing exactly what Veronica was telling her to do, which was to turn around.

In the next moment, Garnet and Veronica had taken off on a trail ride. The Saddle Club had never seen anything like it. She just plain rode out of the ring in the middle of the meeting! Even Max, usually completely composed when he was in a riding ring, gaped. Then, becoming aware that he was staring, he returned his attention to the riders in the ring. “Polly,” he said. “Tell me three reasons why a horse might need new shoes.”

As it turned out, Max, as usual, had planned everything to be fair. All the riders got some questions they could answer, and by listening carefully, they could learn from the other riders as well. One of the youngest members, Lucy Johnson, was the first over the line when she told Max that a rider always mounted from the left-hand side. Everybody clapped for her because she deserved to win and they had all had fun playing the game.

After that, Max took them on a brief trail ride, across a meadow and into the woods behind Pine Hollow. They met up with Veronica in the meadow, where she had been cantering on Garnet. Max called her over to him and everybody heard what he said.

“Veronica, I understand you were excited about riding your new horse for the first time, but leaving the meeting was childish and wrong. Don’t do it again.”
Then he dismissed her, directing her to the end of the line of riders. As she passed by The Saddle Club, Veronica smiled triumphantly. Stevie shook her head. Veronica actually thought she’d gotten away with something!

C
AROLE FINISHED GROOMING
Barq and gave him his feed. She was almost ready to find her father and leave for the day. First, though, out of habit, she walked along the hallway between the stalls, looking to see if anyone needed help with his horse. She didn’t have to go far before she found somebody who needed a
lot
of help. It was her own father.

Colonel Hanson was standing in Garnet’s stall, holding the horse’s reins in one hand and examining the bridle as if it were an interesting specimen under a microscope.

“What are you doing?” Carole asked somewhat impatiently. He did look a little stupid standing there.

“I’m trying to figure out how to take this, thing off,” he cheerfully replied. “Veronica told me she was tired after her ride and asked if I’d take care of her horse for her. I don’t mind, but how do you get this thing off?”

“I’ll do it,” Carole said, speaking more sharply than she meant to. Her father handed her the reins and stood back, watching her.

Carole was upset. Everything seemed wrong to her. How could it be that her very own father, who always knew everything, didn’t even know how to remove a
bridle? How could he be a good sponsor for Horse Wise—Horse Dumb seemed more apt to her. Even worse, how could it be that somebody who didn’t deserve a horse could have one as beautiful and gentle as Garnet?

“Can I help you out there?” Colonel Hanson asked.

“No,” Carole said.

“Then maybe I should see if I can help somebody else.”

“Sure,” she said, although it occurred to her that if she didn’t want everybody to know how ignorant he was, it probably wasn’t a great idea to send him out as a helper. What was foremost in her mind, though, was Veronica’s carelessness. Her carelessness had cost the life of her last horse. What would it do this time?

“N
EED SOME HELP
?”

Stevie looked up and saw Colonel Hanson standing at the stall door. “Sure, come on in. Help me get Topside untacked.”

“Oh, good,” he said. “You can show me how to undo this bridle gadget. It’s sure got a lot of buckles, doesn’t it?”

Stevie laughed. “It’s easy. I’ll show you. First, you put on a halter—”

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

“Well, you just do,” Stevie said, without thinking. She put on the halter first because she always put on a halter first.

“There must be a reason,” Colonel Hanson said mildly.

“I suppose,” Stevie agreed, and stopped to think about it. “I got it,” she said. “You put on a halter and a lead rope so you always have something to control the horse with. A horse like Topside probably doesn’t need it, particularly when you’re untacking him in his stall, but the time you forget to do it will be the time he’s in an open area and he can be out of reach in a second. That’s why you should always do it.”

“Good,” the colonel said, and smiled at Stevie.

Next, she showed him how to remove the saddle. He tried to do it from the horse’s right side. Stevie showed him that it should be done from the left.

“Why?” he asked.

Good question,
she thought to herself. Saddles were removed from the left because they were always removed from the left. “Actually, I think it’s because the horse is used to being approached from the left. It’s also the side where most girth adjustments are made, so the leathers are suppler on that side and easier to buckle and unbuckle.”

“Makes sense,” Colonel Hanson told her.

“Makes sense to me, too,” Stevie said. “I never thought about it before, though. I just always did it.”

She showed the colonel where to stow the saddle in the tack room and explained the system in there. Then they returned to Topside’s stall and began the grooming. It turned out that he didn’t know anything
about that, either. Although Stevie had shown many new riders how to groom and care for a horse, she’d never had one who asked “why” as often as Carole’s father did.

When the last bit of grooming was finished, and Topside had fresh hay and fresh water, Stevie turned to her “instructor” and asked, “Now may I take twenty-five giant steps for all the right answers I’ve given?”

“Why?” he asked, and they both laughed.

C
AROLE CARRIED
G
ARNET
’
S
saddle and bridle into the tack room, where they would probably stay until Veronica got somebody else to put them on her horse. Carole frowned, thinking again about how upside down the world seemed to be. What she saw when she walked into the tack room made her feel the world was even more upside down. There was her father, the Pony Club sponsor, being instructed on tack cleaning by her friend Lisa.

“No, you just moisten the sponge, you don’t wet it,” Lisa was saying. “Okay, now rub in small circles. That works the best.”

“Why?” the colonel asked.

Carole felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. Her father didn’t know
anything!
She hastily put the tack away and returned to the stable area because she
could leave the room that way without being seen by her father or by Lisa. She almost wished that she’d never be seen by anybody ever again. How could she look her friends in the eye after they learned what a dolt her father was when it came to horses?

There were still several Pony Clubbers in the stalls, grooming their horses. Carole needed a place to hide and think a bit. The stalls wouldn’t do. She was too likely to be interrupted, or to overhear her father asking more dumb questions. She noticed that the door to the grain room was closed. That meant nobody was in it. It would give her the privacy she needed.

The grain room was actually quite large, but felt small because of the large sacks and bins of grains it held. Carole was always interested in the variety of grains horses were fed. Sometimes, she’d come in here to work with Max on the recipes, which often varied for each horse depending on his individual needs. Today, she ignored the sacks, except to sit on one in a far corner.

The door flew open. One of the younger riders—Carole couldn’t remember her name—entered, followed by Carole’s father.

“See,” the little girl said. “This is the grain room. We give the horses grain as well as hay.”

“Well, now. Tell me, why is that?” Carole’s father asked.

“I think the grain has more good stuff in it for the horses—like oats, you know. The hay is good, but it’s not enough by itself.”