ROSIE’S GIFT
BY SHARON EAREY
THE little chestnut mare watched her breath swirl in the cold, frosty air. She was elderly now, living a quiet life, well, if you could call it that. She was nanny to two dressage horses, all long legs and big ideas, always banging on about half-passes. Still, it had its advantages – deep straw bed, warm stable, nice rug, plenty of food.
Something was different today; she could smell it in the air. Her coat had been brushed until it gleamed, her feet carefully oiled and her mane and tail meticulously combed. Just like the old days when she was a show pony. Apparently, she was going on a journey. There had been lots of journeys in her old life. Show rings, rosettes, adventures but not now, unless one of her charges needed a babysitter on the lorry, which happened sometimes.
The lorry was waiting. No sign of the dressage divas today, this was clearly a journey just for her. This was travelling in style mind you, not like the old times with the ancient red Land Rover and battered trailer. Sometimes she missed her other life, missed the old field and the muddy, wet winters. Missed her owner.
Up the ramp she went, always ready for a new adventure. She must be going to a show, fancy that after all these years. Ramp secured, the lorry began to move; swaying gently, she balanced herself and picked at her hay. She was too little to see where she was going. The journey continued for a while until gradually the swaying slowed and the lorry came to a stop. They had arrived.
Denne historien er fra December 17, 2020-utgaven av Horse & Hound.
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Denne historien er fra December 17, 2020-utgaven av Horse & Hound.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
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