By Anna Sterrett age 11.
Blue was never mine, in fact he belonged to a
gypsy girl who hardly had much to amuse her. Her caravan had to travel
everywhere and her parents had hardly much money so they could not afford to
give their daughter riding lessons. It was when the little girl moved to
Kingshead that I soon became friends with her.
Most of the people in Kingshead are rich
snobs who live in highly expensive mansions and send all their children to
expensive boarding schools. There was a rumour that anyone owning a horse was
a 'snob' which I felt really offended by because I owned a 16hh Trakhener
dressage horse at the time.
When the gypsies moved to Kingshead I was
pretty cheesed off as they covered most of the route in which I hacked out
my horse, Storm.
I had to make do with the school when the
gypsies were there but they stayed there for so long I took the hack route
anyway. Storm blew through his nostrils and tossed his head high as soon as
the white caravans came into view. Some children were playing 'stuck'
outside and one kid booted a football in my direction. Storm tried to career
round but I forced him past the caravans. The kid with the football yelled
"snob" at me but I didn't care. Out in the field were more
caravans and a space to where a hairy, 13hh grey cob stood grazing. I had
always felt sorry fo gypsy ponies as they had to move from place to place
and must be very confused.
The gypsy pony was very pretty and a dirty,
skinny girl stood by his side, letting him eat the grass on the end of a
frayed piece of rope. As I tried to edge Storm past her andher pony I
thought I heard her say something.
"sorry?" I asked her inquisitively.
"I only said hello," she mumbled
quietly, playing with a buttercup as she held the pony's rope.
"Oh, hello," I replied gently. Then
I said, "Whats your pony's name?"
She looked at me dumbly at first and started
to answer.
"Oh, he's called Blue. I rescued him
from a horse auction a year ago. I can't afford riding lessons but I let him
eat grass and I can get hay from local farmers for him."
"Oh, so do you ride him often?" I
asked her.
"Yes," she answered, "I learn
to ride from books."
"I ride all the time," I said,
"this is Storm. I use him in dressage.
From that day forward I let the little girl
(or Rachael as she was better known) come round to my house to ride Blue.
Because she had learned to ride from books, she was not a good rider and had
pushed herself forwartds too mch. Her parents soon bought a house in the
area and Rachael managed to come round to mine every day so I could give her
lessons with Blue for free.
But, one day I took Blue and Rachael with
myself and Storm out on a hack. We came to an overflowing river and,
presuming it wasn't too deep I rode Storm into it. Storm, being 16hh managed
to go through the river with his head and neck above the water.
Blue drove into the water at a fast canter
and Rachael let out a petryfiing scream and toppled head first under the
water. Blue, frightened, ducked his hairy head under the water and lifted
out an exhausted and gasping Rachael. Blue let Rachael cling onto his reins
and swam her to safety. I walked Storm alongside the pair, shocked. I had
just stood there in amazement and realised that Blue had just proven to be a
hero. If it hadn't been for Blue Rachael could have died.
Later that year, Rachael attended pony club
and Blue got awarded the bravest pony of the year with an award of
100pounds!!!!!!
Because Rachael loved \blue so much, she
bought him a brand new rug and a leather headcollar with the money!!!!
A true story by Anna Sterrett