After my victory gallop, I took mounted off and led Pumpkin over to my barn's horse trailer.
I ride for Willow Creek Riding Center. We aren’t a very fancy barn or anything. I mean we had land, our facilities weren’t bad, we had some nice horses, and our trainers were professionals. But we didn’t have 3,000 acres, or stalls made of marble and silver, our horses weren’t warm bloods worth millions, and our trainers weren’t Olympians. It wasn’t good enough for my sister who now rides for Sara Kingston’s Riding School. But to me my barn was a piece of heaven.
Immediately as I got to the trailer my mom and coach rushed over to me with smiles. After 10 minutes of “Were super proud of you!” and hugs my coach said,” Okay, well why don’t you go Pumpkin ready for the ride home and then we’ll load her in.” She then turned around to my sister and said,” Courtney, why don’t you go get Pumpkins shipping tack and you can help your sister from there?” I wanted to scream but I just gulped and led Pumpkin to the side of the trailer.
I tied her rope to the hook on the side of the trailer ad took of her Dark brown saddle and bridle, woolen saddle pad, black polo wraps, and white bell boots. I than took a wet wash cloth and rubbed Pumpkin down until all the sweat disappeared from her chest. “You were such a good girl.” I said and gave her a pat. That’s when I heard the familiar snobbish voice.” Here’s your trailer stuff dork face.” Said Courtney putting it down, excuse me throwing it on the ground “Oh, you should watch your leg, it slipped back a centimeter over like, seven of the jumps. “ Blurted out Courtney before walking away, I swear I almost threw myself under a passing by truck.
I gritted my teeth and put on Pumpkins navy blue blanket and matching shipping boots, along with her leather halter. The rest of the day was a blur though; I barely had time to sit down. But yet still, I felt the burning to win regionals.