The Horse Show

The Horse Show

It was still dark when I went in to wake up my daughter, Tiffany. We needed to get to the show grounds early so we could feed the horses before the show. My daughter rushed to get dressed. Then she grabbed her show clothes and headed out the door. The horses stuck their heads out over the stall doors when we arrived at the show grounds. The knickers and whinnies broke the silence of the quiet morning. After we fed every horse, we began the chores of cleaning, watering, and grooming. The barn area became busier as more people were arriving. Tiffany was in Kelly’s stall, brushing his hair as he ate. Finally, I told her it was time for her to finish getting him ready. I walked into the tack room to get the saddle and bridle. The pungent smell of leather filled the air. While I finished up getting Kelly ready, Tiffany went to change into her show clothes. When she returned, she got up on him and started riding him around the warm-up arena.

The announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker, “First call, for class 101.” I said to Tiffany, “That’s you!” She rode Kelly towards the show arena. I had butterflies. I was hoping that nothing would go wrong. They had trained very hard for this event. The two of them looked stunning as they entered the arena. Tiffany was wearing her dark blue, pinned striped suit, riding atop her shiny black stallion. I was comparing them to the other horses and riders entering the arena. I thought to myself, there was some tough competition in this class. I watched with excitement as they performed each of the required gates. After all of the riders lined up their horses at the end of the horseshow class. As the judge walked down the line of horses, I was unsure how they did. The judge handed the score card to the announcer. I was holding my breath. “First place goes to number 408,” said the announcer.

I proudly watched as the ring steward presented my daughter with the blue ribbon. I watched, astonished, as the ring steward attached the ribbon to Kelly’s bit. Suddenly, Kelly started spinning around, trying to escape the fluttering streamers attached to him. My heart was beating hard as I watched in horror. My daughter was turning around in the arena. All I could think about as I ran to the gate was, “Please don’t fall off.” Finally, Kelly stopped. My daughter was dismounted but landed on her feet. I sighed and then yelled, “Grab the reins,” but it was too late; Kelly took off running. He was frantically trying to get away from the ribbon still attached to his bit.

At last, the ribbon fell to the ground, and my daughter was able to catch her horse. She walked over to the ribbon and picked it up off the ground. Then, turning towards the gate, she proudly walked her stallion out of the arena.