on a horse who sometimes thought he was an eagle.
She reached for her next piece of paper.
L ISA WASN ’ T CONVINCED that Max’s idea about personal goals was really a good one. Wasn’t that the reason why there were judges at horse shows? The idea seemed to be that a horse show was an opportunity to compete against other riders of approximately the same skill level and let somebody else decide who was actually the best.
It didn’t really matter, though, what Lisa thought about writing down her personal goals. Max wanted them to do it, so it had to be done.
Lisa put on her pajamas, then grabbed pen and paper, and settled comfortably in bed.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to think about everything she’d learned about horseback riding from the first time she had been on a horse. It was all there—in her mind. She remembered when getting into a saddle seemed like an awkward and difficult task. Now it felt like the most natural motion in the world. At first the horses’ gaits had seemed odd, unfamiliar. Now her own body responded automatically to the movements of the horses at every gait. The first time she’d jumped, she had been amazed to find herself still on her horse after the horse landed. Now she always knew she’d be there. She was a rider. She was a good rider. And she had the best horse in the world.
Her mind also filled with recollections of all the riding she’d done, mostly with Stevie and Carole. The recollections were wonderful ones, filled with joy and excitement, peace and contentment. The thoughts carried her into sleep.
Lisa could feel the smooth, supple movement of Prancer beneath her. The mare’s coat gleamed in the bright sunshine. As Prancer shook her head, her inky mane caught the light, and then lay smooth and shiny once again. Her saddle had a rich luster—one that came only from the best and most thorough cleaning.
“Lisa Atwood on Prancer,” the public-address system blared. That was it. It was her signal. She was ready. But for what? Lisa looked about her quickly. The ring was filled with obstacles, about three feethigh. This was the jump competition, and she had no idea what the path was! She was filled with terror and panic. Then, without a signal from her, Prancer entered the ring. The horse looked around the ring, nodded as if to tell Lisa she knew what she was doing and there was nothing for Lisa to worry about. Lisa knew, as certainly as she’d ever known anything in her life, that she was going to be fine. She gave Prancer a little nudge with her legs, and they were off.
Without hesitation Prancer broke into a smooth canter, aimed herself toward the first jump at an even gait, and began the work she’d been born to do so well. Three feet from the first jump, Lisa leaned forward, rose up ever so slightly, gave Prancer the rein she needed to do her job. The pair flew over the jump, landing so smoothly Lisa barely realized they were on the ground. There was scattered applause from the audience. Prancer’s whole body curved to turn gracefully toward the next jump. She changed her lead naturally and approached the next jump with the same confidence she’d used on the first. Lisa prepared for the jump, and again the two of them went over easily. Lisa was aware that Prancer’s tail rose with the jump so that it flowed after them, like the tail of a comet. When they landed this time, there was more applause.
The course had ten jumps in it, and every one was as easy as the first. Prancer navigated the complicated trail as if she’d jumped it a thousand times before. Lisa stayed in the saddle, focusing on her own form, head up, eyes forward, legs in, heels down, hands firm butnot tight, lower arms parallel to the ground, lower legs at right angles to the ground.… The list was endless, and she’d heard it a thousand times. Sometimes it seemed as if she heard it a thousand times each class. For once, however, she didn’t hear it from Max or her friends. She heard
She reached for her next piece of paper.
L ISA WASN ’ T CONVINCED that Max’s idea about personal goals was really a good one. Wasn’t that the reason why there were judges at horse shows? The idea seemed to be that a horse show was an opportunity to compete against other riders of approximately the same skill level and let somebody else decide who was actually the best.
It didn’t really matter, though, what Lisa thought about writing down her personal goals. Max wanted them to do it, so it had to be done.
Lisa put on her pajamas, then grabbed pen and paper, and settled comfortably in bed.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to think about everything she’d learned about horseback riding from the first time she had been on a horse. It was all there—in her mind. She remembered when getting into a saddle seemed like an awkward and difficult task. Now it felt like the most natural motion in the world. At first the horses’ gaits had seemed odd, unfamiliar. Now her own body responded automatically to the movements of the horses at every gait. The first time she’d jumped, she had been amazed to find herself still on her horse after the horse landed. Now she always knew she’d be there. She was a rider. She was a good rider. And she had the best horse in the world.
Her mind also filled with recollections of all the riding she’d done, mostly with Stevie and Carole. The recollections were wonderful ones, filled with joy and excitement, peace and contentment. The thoughts carried her into sleep.
Lisa could feel the smooth, supple movement of Prancer beneath her. The mare’s coat gleamed in the bright sunshine. As Prancer shook her head, her inky mane caught the light, and then lay smooth and shiny once again. Her saddle had a rich luster—one that came only from the best and most thorough cleaning.
“Lisa Atwood on Prancer,” the public-address system blared. That was it. It was her signal. She was ready. But for what? Lisa looked about her quickly. The ring was filled with obstacles, about three feethigh. This was the jump competition, and she had no idea what the path was! She was filled with terror and panic. Then, without a signal from her, Prancer entered the ring. The horse looked around the ring, nodded as if to tell Lisa she knew what she was doing and there was nothing for Lisa to worry about. Lisa knew, as certainly as she’d ever known anything in her life, that she was going to be fine. She gave Prancer a little nudge with her legs, and they were off.
Without hesitation Prancer broke into a smooth canter, aimed herself toward the first jump at an even gait, and began the work she’d been born to do so well. Three feet from the first jump, Lisa leaned forward, rose up ever so slightly, gave Prancer the rein she needed to do her job. The pair flew over the jump, landing so smoothly Lisa barely realized they were on the ground. There was scattered applause from the audience. Prancer’s whole body curved to turn gracefully toward the next jump. She changed her lead naturally and approached the next jump with the same confidence she’d used on the first. Lisa prepared for the jump, and again the two of them went over easily. Lisa was aware that Prancer’s tail rose with the jump so that it flowed after them, like the tail of a comet. When they landed this time, there was more applause.
The course had ten jumps in it, and every one was as easy as the first. Prancer navigated the complicated trail as if she’d jumped it a thousand times before. Lisa stayed in the saddle, focusing on her own form, head up, eyes forward, legs in, heels down, hands firm butnot tight, lower arms parallel to the ground, lower legs at right angles to the ground.… The list was endless, and she’d heard it a thousand times. Sometimes it seemed as if she heard it a thousand times each class. For once, however, she didn’t hear it from Max or her friends. She heard
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