by Eternal.Rain » Wed Jun 25, 2014 3:37 am
--Day 1--
As I roll out of bed this morning, I pull on my favorite pair of blue jeans and a button down purple plaid shirt. I roll the sleeves up to my elbows and walk into the bathroom. I look at my hair and do a double take. My brown curly hair, that is usually comprised of sleek curls that reach my mid back, is currently a ball of frizz. Must not have slept well last night.... I sigh and open the cabinet that sits next to my sink that holds all of my hair products. I quickly grab a bottle of leave-in conditioner and squirt some into my hair. As I flip my head upside down and fun my hands through my hair, I begin to wonder what my new mustang will look like. This is my first time training a wild mustang and my heart in beating with anticipation. I stand up and look at my hair again. The frizz is gone, and curls have begun to take the place. I grab a hair-tie and pull my hair back into a bun at the nape of my neck. I apply my make-up and smile at my reflection, feeling confident this morning. I walk down the stairs to my kitchen and sigh. I still haven't gotten used to walking down here and not seeing my parents. Shaking my head at myself, I walk to the refrigerator and grab the egg, sausage and cheese biscuit sandwich that I had prepared the night before. I throw it in the microwave and heat it for 30 seconds. With a bottle of orange juice in one hand and my sandwich in the other, I grab my purse and walk out the door to my Jeep Wrangler 4 x 4. I was never much of a truck person, but I like my jeep. I climb in and start the long drive to the reservation where my horse is waiting for me.
--2 hours later --
As I pull into the driveway to ranch, I see all of the mustangs running around the corrals. It really is a beautiful sight. I drive up to the house and slowly stop. I step down out of my Jeep and check the connections on my trailer. I walk into the house where a woman at a desk greets me. "Hi," I find myself saying. "I'm Bethany, and I'm here to pick up my mustang." I hand her the necessary paperwork that I was required to bring and she smiles as she takes it. After looking it over and motions to one of the ranch hands to lead me to me horse. I'm very nervous at this point, but excited at the same time. The ranch hand leads me over to one of the corrals where an array of mustangs are tied to the fence. "Which one is mine?" I ask, quietly. "That one." The ranch hand says, pointing to a stunning dapple grey gelding. Upon closer examination, I find that he has a white marking on his nose, in the shape of a mustache. "He's so handsome." I say, smiling. The ranch hand opens the gate and starts toward my new horse. I turn away and walk to my Jeep and pull it around, backing it up to the gate. As I jump out I hear someone yell and I see my new mustang rearing and the ranch hand cowering on the ground. I run into the corral, carefully so I don't make much noise as the scare the other mustangs. I run to my horse and grab his halter. He screams but I hang on, talking to him gently and pulling on his halter. As soon as I get him back on all four feet, I unhook the lead from the fence and attempt to lead him to trailer. He seems to want to get away from the male ranch hand, so he breaks into a run. I let go of the lead so he doesn't drag me with him. To my surprise he runs right into the trailer, breathing heavily. I quickly close the trailer door, and start back to the corral where the ranch hand is finally standing up. "Are you alright?" I ask him, noticing that his hand is bleeding. "No!" He said loudly. "Your "horse" bit me!" I scowl at him and pull him out of the corral. He seems to be a couple of years younger than me, probably only 15 or 16 years old. "It might have helped if you had known that he is afraid of men." I say softly as I close the gate to the corral. "How do you know that he is?" He asked, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. "He eyed you warily when you first walked in, his muscles tensed when you grabbed the lead, and when I came back in he didn't bite me." I smile softly, trying to reassure him, but I am really mad because my horse could have been seriously injured. "You'll want to get that hand looked at soon." I say, as I walk with him back to the house to fill out and collect the papers on my new horse. "Thanks!" I say as I walk out of the house and to my car. I peer into the window on the side of the trailer and my horse appears to be calm, a strange sight for a mustang. Hopefully there is nothing wrong with him. I jump in the car and turn my radio off, wanting to be able to hear everything my new horse may do in the trailer.
-- 2 hours later --
I pull back into my driveway, happy to be home. I pull the car around to the gate that leads to the corral next to the barn. I hop out and open the corral gate. I open the trailer door, but my horse doesn't make a move to get out. Hoping to be able to take the lead off of the halter, I reach into the window slowly and unclip the lead. This startles my horse awake and he backs out of the trailer and bolts into the corral. I close the trailer door, but I don't get in my car. Instead, I walk to the corral and, after closing the gate, stand against the fence, watching my horse. As I watch him jumping and bucking, I begin to think of a name. Because he is Dappled Grey, I decide on "My Stirling Silver" as his show name, and "Geronimo" as his barn name. I smile and walk towards my car to move it in front on my house. This is the beginning of a great summer.